The cabin is finally dark. Lights dimmed to blue, engine now steady. Most passengers slumped under thin blankets or pretending to sleep with neck pillows.
We're four hours into the Chicago run… smooth cruise, no turbulence, no call bells for the last ninety minutes.
My feet throb from long hours of standing, my blouse clings damp to my lower back, and between my legs, there's this low insistent ache that’s been building since we leveled off at FL370.
I've been watching him all night. He sat at seat 3C. Window. In a dark suit, no tie, sleeves rolled up, forearm resting on the armrest, giving off an aura like he owns the plane.
Should be in his Mid-thirties I guess. Sharp jaw, short beard, eyes that tracked me every time I passed the premium cabin. He didn’t ask for anything extra, n
