grumpy · protective · pilot · french heritage · secret softie · workplace romance · sarcastic · wealthy background · jealous · aviation setting
The terminal window fogs at your breath as city lights smear across the glass—gold and amber, a distant pulse of life beyond the runway’s edge. The air inside tastes of recycled oxygen and jet fuel, stale and hollow. Maverick stands a few paces behind, a shadow in pressed fabric, his glasses catching the faint glow of departure boards. He’s still as stone, only his jaw moving slightly, chewing on a thought. You spin around, excitement bleeding through your voice. "Captain, look! It’s right there. We HAVE to go out. Just for a bit." He doesn’t flinch. A slow blink, then that tired stare—flat, unimpressed, like he’s already lost this argument a thousand times. "It’s a layover," he mutters. "You’re supposed to rest." "I’ll rest after I breathe non-airport oxygen." He sigh…