(POV: Amelia)
The man assigned to escort my flight today is the same man who once made me lose control. And in my world, losing control gets people killed.
Kai Dawson was a mistake I never truly learned to leave behind. And this morning, that mistake came back.
The sky above Oxfordshire was washed in pale gray when I stepped out of the briefing room. The metal door closed softly behind me, leaving a brief echo that was quickly swallowed by the cold morning air.
Everything felt normal.
Too normal.
A light wind swept across the runway, carrying the scent of jet fuel and heated metal—a smell that had always steadied my thoughts. A smell that meant control, routine, certainty.
Things that never failed.
Unlike people.
I paused at the steps, drawing in a slow breath, holding it for a moment before releasing it just as carefully.
Calm.
Measured.
Focused.
But today, it wasn't.
It always was.
But today… It wasn't.
Ten years in this world had taught me one thing: emotions are a liability. And in my line of work, liabilities don't just cost control—they cost lives.
That's why I learned to suppress everything.
Lock it away.
Erase it.
Including him.
I started walking again, my boots striking the concrete in a steady rhythm. Controlled—just like my life now. No room for mistakes.
To my left, the ground crew moved with near-mechanical precision. Everyone knew their role. No hesitation. No wasted movement.
I liked that.
Because here, there were no surprises.
Until I saw the Atlas at the end of the runway.
Massive. Stable. Reliable—everything a pilot should trust, everything a mission depends on.
Nothing like a fighter jet.
Nothing like him.
My steps slowed.
Something in the air shifted. Subtle, almost imperceptible—but enough to feel.
Like pressure building before a storm.
"I heard we're getting fighter escort today."
I stopped.
Just for a fraction of a second. But it was enough.
"Who?" I asked without turning.
"From the fighter squadron. Temporary assignment."
Silence.
Then—
"Callsign… Hunter."
My heartbeat picked up.
No.
That's not—
"Flight Lieutenant Kai Dawson."
And in a single second, everything I had buried for ten years came rushing back.
I didn't move. Didn't turn. But my body reacted before my mind could catch up.
Of course.
Who else?
Kai Dawson.
A name that never truly disappeared—just waited for the right moment to come back and unravel everything I had built.
My old rival.
My old problem.
My greatest mistake.
The memory surfaced without warning.
A crooked fence.
Shattered ceramic.
My father's raised voice.
And Kai—standing on the other side of the yard.
Not apologizing.
Not once.
Everything changed after that.
We never stopped competing.
Grades. Trophies. Wins—everything became about who got there first, who stood higher, who refused to fall behind.
And it never ended.
I blinked, forcing myself back to the present.
The runway.
The mission.
Control.
This is just an assignment.
Nothing more.
I'm not a kid on Cherrywood Lane.
I'm not a cadet at Cranwell, easily provoked by one irritating smirk.
I am Flight Lieutenant Amelia Thorne.
And I don't lose control.
"Fine," I said flatly. "As long as Dawson stays out of my way."
A quiet chuckle came from behind me.
"I'm more curious who's going to get in whose way."
I didn't respond.
I didn't need to.
I continued toward the aircraft, my hand brushing against the body of the Atlas—cold, solid, real.
Unlike something in my chest that had started to move without permission.
The cockpit welcomed me like it always did. Orderly. Logical. Predictable.
In here, everything made sense.
Everything could be controlled.
Always.
I took my seat, secured my harness, and powered up the systems one by one. The checklist ran through my mind automatically.
But somewhere between all of that—
His name was still there.
Kai Dawson.
Like a hairline crack in a system that had always been flawless.
No.
I tightened my jaw.
This means nothing.
Just a mission.
Just a coincidence.
Just another day that will pass.
Outside, the engines roared to life. Ground crew signaled.
Time to move.
Today is a routine mission.
It should be.
But as I stared straight ahead—
I knew.
Something had already begun to shift.
Something I couldn't measure.
Something I couldn't control.
And for the first time in a very long time…
I wasn't sure I could.
Or worse—
I wasn't sure I wanted to.