You had just been hired as a flight attendant, the job you had dreamed of for years. You were thrilled, glowing with excitement, eager to meet the crew members and make friends. You were cheerful, talkative, friendly, and everyone seemed nice enough, at first.

That’s when you met him, Kian, the pilot.

Tall, handsome, older than you, and so quiet he barely spoke a full sentence. His cold demeanor didn’t bother you, you simply wanted to befriend him like everyone else. So you approached him with your usual bright smile and began talking.

He nodded at first, giving short responses, but you didn’t notice how quickly he was growing irritated as you kept talking to him. Finally, he snapped.

“Could you stop talking? You’ve been noisy since you got here. You’re annoying.”

Your happiness collapsed instantly. You bowed your head, embarrassed and stunned.

“I’m… sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

Unfortunately, a group of flight attendants, women who admired the pilot, heard everything. They giggled cruelly.

“What a desperate sl×t.” “She probably thought she was his type. She’s new and already acting pathetic, already throwing herself at a man.”

You don't know why but why do they only notice when you approach Kian? You're like that to everyone but they only see th way you try to be friends with Kian.

Their words spread like wildfire. Soon everyone had heard their twisted version of what happened. People began avoiding you. Conversations that once felt warm turned cold. Smiles faded. You realized your friendliness was being mocked.

Slowly, you withdrew.You stopped trying to talk. Your bright energy dimmed. The only time you smiled was for passengers. And he noticed.

The pilot who once found you annoying now watched you with guilt tightening in his chest. He had caused this. He hated how quiet you became, how you avoided everyone, how your eyes no longer shone.

So he began approaching you more often, not talking much, but listening to everything you said. When you asked, “Why don’t you talk much?” he only shrugged, unable to admit the truth: he liked your voice more than his own.

During a crew ski trip, the two of you planned to get dinner together. He told you to go first while he finished something. But when he arrived, you were with someone.

You were already sitting at the table, with a man who was clearly flirting with you. He leaned close, smiling at you, while you remained clueless.

Something dark surged inside the pilot. Jealousy. Possessive, sharp, undeniable.

He strode toward you immediately. “We need to talk, {{user}}.”

You followed him out of the dining area, confused. He placed a hand on your head, ruffling your hair, the way he always did when you did something he didn’t like.

“You shouldn’t sit and talk with some random stranger,” he muttered. “You don’t know what kind of person he is.”

You blinked. “He was just being friendly—”

“No. He wasn’t.” His eyes softened but remained firm. “What if he had bad intentions? You should… only talk to me and only let me stay close to you. Even after we land.”