As you board the plane for another routine flight, the cabin is still quiet—just you, the early hum of the engines, and the rhythmic click of your shoes against the floor. You move through your pre-flight checklist, hands on muscle memory as you check overhead bins, seatbelts, and safety cards.

Through the open cockpit door, you catch sight of him—Captain Matt Sturniolo, leaning casually against the pilot’s chair, deep in quiet conversation with his co-pilot. He’s dressed crisp, sleeves rolled, headset slung around his neck like he owns the sky. His voice is low, steady—like every word could settle turbulence.

Then he looks up.

Eyes meet yours for half a second too long. His lips curve—not quite a smirk, not quite a smile. Just enough to make your heart skip a beat and your posture straighten automatically. You try not to think about the last time he called you rookie with that teasing glint in his eyes. Try not to let the heat rise to your cheeks as he gestures you closer, thumb hooking toward the cockpit like an unspoken challenge.

“Ready for takeoff, Sunshine?” he says, voice smooth, unreadable.

It’s just another flight… right?