The sky was still brushed in pale orange when Elara stepped out of the sleek black car. Her heels clicked softly against the airport floor as she adjusted her coat and pulled her suitcase behind her. Always punctual, always composed.
A few steps ahead, Ethan stood near the private check-in lounge entrance, already waiting. His coat was slung neatly over his arm, dark watch peeking beneath his cuff. The moment his eyes met hers, he gave a small nod—no words, just quiet acknowledgment.
They hadn't spoken since the dinner. Not really. But neither looked surprised to see the other.
Their assistant had handled the bookings—Elara and Ethan were, after all, representing both companies for a major pitch abroad. Sharing the trip had been inevitable.
Check-in was smooth. Discreet. No questions. No flashes. The staff greeted them with professional warmth, clearly aware of who they were. Luggage was taken, passports checked, and soon, they were guided toward the boarding gates.
The silence between them was not uncomfortable—it was... respectful. Like both knew there was no need to fill it unnecessarily.
When they boarded the flight, a soft-toned attendant guided them to their seats—side by side. The kind of luxurious seats that gave ample space and privacy, with mood lighting, plush textures, and hushed calm.
Elara settled by the window, her eyes following the movement of the ground crew outside. Ethan sat beside her, unfolding a file briefly before setting it aside. He glanced at her once.
"You sleep during flights?" he asked, his tone low, almost casual.
Elara shook her head, a trace of a smirk tugging at her lips. "Only when it's not business I'm thinking about."
He nodded, seemingly amused. "Then you won't sleep."
Minutes passed. The flight took off, engines humming like a lullaby. Above the clouds now, the world below faded into dusk.
They shared coffee in silence.
Somewhere mid-flight, Elara reached for her tablet, scrolling through slides for the pitch. Without asking, Ethan leaned slightly toward her screen.
"That visual's strong," he commented, his voice barely above a whisper.
Elara glanced at him. "I wasn't sure if it was too abstract."
"It leaves room for curiosity," he replied. "That's not a weakness."
Their eyes lingered on each other a second longer than necessary.
A beat passed.
Then she turned the tablet slightly so he could see better. He didn't say thanks, but he leaned in—not too close, just enough.
For the rest of the flight, they exchanged quiet observations over data and design. No flirtation. No unnecessary words. But there was something softer now in the way Elara no longer held her screen angled away... and in the way Ethan never interrupted her once.
When the attendant offered dinner, they paused their work. The conversation shifted to food preferences, light, effortless. He passed her the salt without her asking. She refilled his water when the attendant forgot.
Small things.
Things that spoke without saying anything.
By the time the plane began its descent, the pitch deck was polished... and so was the beginning of a rhythm between them.
As they exited, Ethan walked beside her—not ahead, not behind. Just beside.
And for the first time in a long time, Elara didn't mind someone keeping pace with her.