New York City, a clear summer day. In a café by the street, Luna and Daisy sat by the window with their coffees, chatting back and forth.
“Luna, did you hear? Today we’re flying with Captain Victor’s flight!”
“Oh, are we.” Luna answered evenly.
“Aren’t you excited?”
“It’s fine.”
Daisy studied her face—there was no excitement there at all, only a faint shadow of sadness. Curiosity got the better of her, and she leaned in, lowering her voice:
“Luna… do you have some kind of history with Victor?”
Luna lifted her eyes to her, held silent for two seconds, then gave a light smile, raised her coffee cup, took a sip, and said: “You’re overthinking it, dear.”
“Am I?” Daisy muttered, and sat back upright.
Luna glanced down at her watch. “It’s about time. Let’s go get ready.”
Daisy nodded, downed the rest of her coffee, picked up her bag, and stood.
Together they left the café.
At six in the evening, the flight from New York to London lifted off from JFK International right on schedule.
As the plane climbed to eleven thousand meters and settled into its cruise over the North Atlantic, Daisy was standing at the front of the cabin, about to head to the lavatory, when the call panel suddenly began flashing pink.
A call from the cockpit. She walked over and carefully pulled the door open.
In the right seat, Keane heard the movement and glanced back, saying quietly:
“Two coffees, please. Thank you.”
Daisy nodded, closed the door, and turned toward the coffee station, her brow knitting as her hand slowly pressed against her stomach.
Just then Luna, the purser, was coming the other way. One look at the change in Daisy’s face and she hurried over, steadying her by the shoulders, asking anxiously:
“What’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell?”
Daisy pressed a hand to her stomach, looked up at Luna, and gripped her arm:
“Luna, I think my period came early.”
“Also—the cockpit wants two coffees. Could you take them in for me?”
Luna nodded at once and walked her to the lavatory. “Don’t worry, I’ll take them in.”
When the door closed behind Daisy, Luna glanced sideways at the cockpit door, let out a slow breath, then gathered herself and walked to the coffee station.
Two minutes later she stood before the cockpit door with two cups in hand, drew a deep breath, pushed the door open, and stepped inside.
“Ah—coffee’s here.”
Keane turned to take the cups, looked up—and froze solid.
“S-sister-in-law? No—wait. Luna?”
In the captain’s seat, Victor heard his voice and went very still, then slowly turned his head to look behind him.
By then Luna had already pressed both cups into Keane’s hands, wearing her official smile.
“Captain. Your coffee.”
The moment the words were out, she stepped back out of the cockpit.
The two men hadn’t recovered before the door swung shut.
Outside it, Luna leaned against the wall, a thin sheen of sweat in her palms. She pressed her lips together and shook her head.
Inside, Keane hissed through his teeth, straightened up, blinked, and handed one of the cups to Victor.
“So. You requested the roster for this New York–London rotation… just to run into Luna?”
It all seemed to click for him; his eyes went wide and he spun toward Victor.
Victor took the coffee and looked down at it. He didn’t drink, and he didn’t answer.
“Ow—why is this so bitter?!” Keane grimaced at his first sip.
At that, Victor’s gaze slid to the cup in Keane’s hand, something complicated flickering through his eyes.
…So she still remembers how I take it. Less sugar.
He murmured it only in his heart.
“Bro, what are you spacing out for?”
“Here, let’s trade—maybe yours is the sweet one!”
Keane reached over to snatch Victor’s cup; Victor lifted it out of reach, eyes narrowing at him, and said in a low voice:
“You drink what you’re given.”
Keane pressed his lips together and shrugged. “Fine, fine.”
The plane cruised steady at ten thousand meters, and Keane could no longer hold back his questions about the whole tangled history between Victor and Luna.
Meanwhile Daisy had come out of the lavatory, color returning to her face, and Luna had brewed her some warm ginger water.
The two of them settled in the galley, one sitting, one leaning against the counter. Daisy sipped her drink and looked up:
“Luna, did you see Captain Victor just now?”
“I mean—we both transferred in this month, and neither of us has even laid eyes on the legendary ace captain. I’m honestly so curious.”
Luna crossed her arms and looked down at the floor, somewhere far away…
Three years ago, Victor’s mother had come to see her behind his back and asked her to leave Victor.
At the time, she and Victor had been married a little over half a year.
And that marriage had never been a simple thing…
Four years ago, at her college graduation ball, Victor appeared as the outstanding student representative of his year—admired by everyone, the most talked-about person in the room.
She, as an outstanding graduate of her own class, drew plenty of attention too.
That night a few boys tried to use the occasion to confess to her, but she had no interest in romance and politely turned them down.
They had no gentleman’s grace about them, and kept pestering her anyway.
Luna was caught, awkward and helpless—until the boy they all called the chosen one appeared.
Victor said nothing extra. One hand in his pocket, he planted himself firmly at her side, eyes cold and challenging on the boys in front of him.
His presence was so frigid, so overwhelming, that none of them dared provoke him. They slunk away.
Luna was just turning to thank him when he was already walking off, leaving her nothing but his back.
…
Past eleven that night, Luna had drunk quite a bit with her classmates. After the ball wound down, she made her bleary-eyed, swaying way toward the room she’d booked in advance.
But no matter how she tapped the key card, the door wouldn’t open. She slumped against it and tapped the sensor again.
Suddenly the door was pulled open from inside. Caught off guard, she toppled forward.
“Ah—!” The pain of hitting the floor never came. In her daze she reached up, groping at whatever had caught her.
It felt smooth and hard, and warm.
Confused, she slowly tried to widen her eyes and looked up—into a pair of deep, dark eyes fixed on her.
The feeling was like a wolf locking onto its prey…
“Huh? The door opened?” She blinked drowsily back toward the doorway, entirely unaware of the “danger” she was in.
Luna’s hand was still resting on Victor’s bare abs—and, finding it rather fun, she gave them an idle stroke…
Victor’s eyes darkened by degrees. His Adam’s apple bobbed. He stepped forward and kicked the door shut behind her.
Then he reached out and helped the drowsy girl in his arms stand upright, and under the warm lamplight he finally saw her face.
“It’s you?” he murmured.
Luna’s lashes were heavy, as if she’d fall asleep the next second.
At the sound of his voice, the corner of her mouth curved into a smile. “…What a nice voice. I like it.”
At that, something flashed in Victor’s eyes. He dipped his head closer. “You like what? Say it again.”
His voice was low, deliberately soft, impossibly seductive.
And sure enough, drunk and fuzzy, Luna followed his lead and said the truest thing in her heart one more time…
“I like… I like your voice. It’s beautiful.”
The words had barely fallen when a low, magnetic laugh sounded at her ear.
The next second she was scooped up off her feet, and ten seconds later she felt soft bedding beneath her.
Victor’s hand was still caught in her unconscious grip. Just as he turned to leave, she pulled with sudden strength—and Victor tumbled down onto the bed with her.
Lips brushed lips. Breath tangled with breath. It all happened in an instant.
His cool lips hovered a few centimeters from hers, his breathing growing heavy—while the culprit had no idea what she’d just done…
Luna’s lips pressed together, her pretty face flushing, tears welling at the corners of her eyes. “It hurts…” she murmured.
Her hand crept down to feel her lower lip. It had indeed been knocked—split just slightly.
“Remember this—you started it.”
“And I will take responsibility…”
Victor’s chest rose and fell, his eyes locked on hers, his voice low and slightly rough.
With that, he caught her hand, pressed it into the pillow, and pinned it there—and the hot kiss came down.
A night of tenderness, tangled and world-ending.
——