Chapter 3: Turbulence
947 Words
(POV: Amelia)
Kai Dawson has always been the one thing I could never truly predict.
And now—
He’s too close.
The sky outside the cockpit looked exactly the same as it had minutes ago. Calm. Steady. Measured. The kind of sky I had always relied on to remain unchanged—the one thing I should have been able to control completely.
But this morning, something felt… off.
“Atlas-1, maintain altitude.”
“Copy.”
My voice sounded normal in my own ears—flat, professional, as if nothing had changed, as if I was still fully in control.
But I knew that wasn’t entirely true.
Ever since Kai Dawson’s voice returned to the radio frequency, the rhythm I usually held so effortlessly had begun to shift. Not much—barely noticeable—but enough for me to feel it.
And that awareness alone was already a problem.
His name was no longer something I could keep tucked away in the past.
He was here now. Real. Close.
Too close.
I fixed my gaze on the instrument panel, checking every number, every indicator. Speed stable. Altitude aligned. Systems are running perfectly.
Everything was under control.
Except one thing—
me.
I’m just making sure you don’t get lost again.
The words surfaced again, uninvited, looping in my mind like a quiet disturbance I couldn’t shut off. My jaw tightened without me realizing it.
Too familiar.
Too easy to pull something back from where I had buried it.
Cranwell.
One small mistake. One deviation that should have meant nothing. But it was enough to make people notice. Enough to make them look.
And of course—enough for Kai Dawson to smile in that way that somehow felt worse than open mockery.
And he never let it go.
Lost.
The word lingered between us. Not just a joke—but a reminder. That I had been wrong. That he had seen it.
And that he never forgot.
I took a slow breath, holding it for a moment before letting it go.
Focus.
That was the past. It should have been over.
“Atlas-1, adjust two degrees. Northwest wind.”
His voice again. Calm. Easy. As if nothing stood between us.
“I see it, Dawson.”
Too fast.
The moment the words left my mouth, I knew. Too sharp. Too reactive. A small mistake that shouldn’t have happened.
Silence followed, just long enough to make me aware of it.
“Copy. Just making sure.”
Light. Too light.
As if none of this mattered.
And somehow, that bothered me more.
I forced my focus back to the instruments. This wasn’t about him. This was about control.
And I don’t lose control.
I glanced out the cockpit window. Nothing but open sky. Empty. Endless.
But I knew he was out there.
Following. Watching.
Like he always had been. Close enough to disrupt, never close enough to ignore.
“Shadow-1.”
I hadn’t even fully decided to call him. The word just slipped out.
“Yes, Atlas-1?”
Too quick.
As if he had been waiting.
I paused. Just for a second.
I didn’t know what to say—and that alone unsettled me. I always knew what to say.
“Keep your distance,” I said finally. “Formation is too close.”
A safe reason. Professional.
It shouldn’t have been arguable.
“Negative. Optimal position for protection.”
Immediate. Certain.
Of course.
Kai had always been like that—too sure, too close, too impossible to ignore.
I held my breath.
“You don’t need to be that close, Dawson.”
My voice was lower now. Controlled.
But something underneath it slipped through—something I didn’t like hearing in my own tone.
Silence. Longer this time.
Then—
“I know.”
Two words.
Simple.
Enough to make me pause.
His tone had changed. No teasing. No edge.
Something more serious.
More honest.
“I’m not here to get in your way, Thorne.”
My grip tightened slightly on the controls. Just enough for me to notice.
“This is my job.”
Silence filled the cockpit.
The space that usually felt wide suddenly felt smaller. The air… denser somehow.
And for the first time—
I had no response.
Kai wasn’t the same.
And that made everything harder.
Because if he had stayed the same, I would have known how to deal with him.
But this—
I didn’t.
I took a slow breath, forcing everything back into place.
“Maintain position.”
My voice returned to normal. Steady. Professional.
As if nothing had happened.
But I knew—
nothing had returned to how it was before.
I stared straight ahead. The sky stretched endlessly in front of me. Vast. Unshaken. It should have been calming.
But not today.
Because for the first time in a long time, my mind wasn’t just on the mission. Not just the flight path. Not just control.
It was on him.
And that was a problem.
Not something small. Not something I could fix with a breath.
Something that had already begun to press against the foundation I had built for years.
I clenched my jaw, forcing everything back down.
No.
This wouldn’t become anything.
It wouldn’t.
I had come too far. Built too much.
I wasn’t going to let someone—
someone I had never even allowed into my thoughts—
undo all of it.
No.
But somewhere deeper—
somewhere I refused to reach—
I knew.
Something had already begun to change.
And like turbulence you can’t see on the radar—
You don’t feel the full impact.
until it’s already too late to avoid.
---
- Writer
