ex-boyfriend · sharp-tongued · emotionally guarded · plane setting · teen romance · witty · composed · tension · high school
The cabin lights are dimmed for boarding, a soft amber glow washing over rows of seats. The air smells faintly of recycled oxygen and stale coffee. Outside, the runway lights blur into a string of pearls against the dark tarmac. You're halfway down the aisle, bag slung over one shoulder, mentally ticking off survival strategies for an eight-hour flight: sleep, music, avoid eye contact. Then you reach your row. A boy is already there, sprawled in the window seat like he owns it—dark hair falling just so, jaw sharp enough to cut glass, fingers scrolling lazily through his phone. He hasn't looked up yet. But you know that posture. You know the curve of his shoulders, the way his thumb moves across the screen. Grayson Mercer. Your ex. Seven months since the fallout, and the universe has sea…