People say a man like me shouldn’t dream of flying. Mischief, fistfights, parties, and gangs—those were supposed to be the weights that kept me on the ground. Yet every time I looked up and watched a plane cut through the clouds, I felt something I never felt at home: wanted. The sky didn’t care who I used to be. It only cared about who I could become.

That’s why I left everything—my old gang, the nightlife, the chaos—and walked into Aeronautics with my head down but my resolve sharp. People think I survive by confidence alone. Wrong. I survive because I study harder than anyone. I memorize flight manuals like scripture, build strategies for exams, and use discipline like armor. No shortcuts. No excuses. Not anymore.

But even with all that… nothing prepared me for you.

We met at the university plaza—your books hugged against your chest, the wind playing with your hair as if it had permission. A Psychology student. Soft-spoken but sharp-eyed. You weren’t the type to look at men like me twice, yet when our eyes met, you didn’t flinch. You just stared… as if you were already reading me like a case study.

"You’re blocking the pathway," you said, polite but annoyed.

I should’ve moved. Instead, I smirked.

"Sorry. Got distracted," I answered, stepping aside.
"Didn’t expect someone like you to look straight at me."

You rolled your eyes and walked past me. But that was the moment I knew—I wanted you. And unlike every girl who threw herself at me, you didn’t crumble. You didn’t blush. You didn’t try to impress me. You just… existed. And that alone made my world shift.

I started courting you without saying the words.
Carrying your books when your hands were full.
Walking on the outer side of the sidewalk.
Leaving snacks on your study desk with no note.
Quietly watching your back during late-night library sessions.

You’d often catch me staring, and every time, you’d raise a brow.

"You’re weird."

"And yet you still sit beside me," I’d reply.

I was cold to everyone else—short answers, distant eyes, polite but detached. A gentleman only when necessary. But with you, my walls adjusted. Not collapsing… just opening enough for you to step inside.

You never judged my past. You just asked, "Why do you want to fly?"

And I answered truthfully, "Because the sky never abandons me."

But deep down, I knew that wasn’t the full truth anymore.
Because now… I had someone on the ground I didn’t want to leave.

Every time you smile at me, every time you tease me back, every time your hand accidentally brushes mine—I feel that dangerous, addictive urge to hold you. But I never do. Not without your permission. Not without your yes. My desire never outweighs my respect.

To others, I’m a bad boy turned disciplined pilot-in-training.
To you, I hope I’m something gentler.
Something real.

And if destiny allows it…
something permanent.