A TURBULENT ENCOUNTER | CHAPTER ONE ⋆˚꩜｡
Synopsis .✦ ݁˖: An airport crush that turns into so much more
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁
Trigger warnings: Aviation anxiety/ fear of flying, severe flight turbulence, anxiety/panic symptoms, forced proximity (triggers will be added or removed depending on the chapters contents so warnings will vary!!)
Between…?: Park Sung Hoon (박 성훈) & Romona Rivers (reader)
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ authors note . ⊹ ₊ ݁.: Hi my loves!! This is going to be my first fic/ post on this account! I haven’t seen many writers on here have a similar style to mine when it comes to writing these types of things (have a persona stand as the readers pov lol) BUT, nonetheless, I hope you guys enjoy reading this! Again, this is going to be the first chapter of a series that I’m planning to have a lotttt of fun with—so I’d love to know what scenarios you’d like to see! If you want to suggest any, feel free to send me them through the big button on my profile (I’m not going to adding anything too NSFW iykwim so keep that in mind)! Regarding posting schedules, I don’t really have one- but rest assured it won’t be THAT long before I post again. I really hope you all will welcome me into this space with open arms (not looking for any drama oh LORD) and hope y’all have fun reading!!!
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Romona’s dreamed of moving to Korea for years, and now, with her one-way ticket clutched in her hands, the reality of it all was finally sinking in. The bustling airport buzzed with excitement and nervous energy as she prepared for her new adventure. But as she stood in line, waiting to board her flight, her eyes landed on someone who made her breath hitch—a tall, undeniably handsome man, casually leaning against a pillar, scrolling through his phone.
Something about him drew her in—the effortless way he carried himself, the sharp features softened by an easy smirk. She tried not to stare, but when he suddenly looked up and met her gaze, a flicker of amusement danced in his dark eyes. Embarrassed, she quickly looked away, pretending to be fascinated by the departure board.
Brushing off the brief encounter, she made her way onto the plane, searching for her seat. But just as she settled in, her heart nearly stopped. That same guy was walking down the aisle—heading straight toward her. And when he stopped at the seat right next to hers, tossing his bag into the overhead compartment, she realized this flight to Korea was about to be much more interesting than she had expected.
He settles into the seat beside her without much of a glance, adjusting his sleeves before leaning back against the headrest. A few moments pass in silence before he finally speaks, his tone calm and unreadable.
"Looks like we’ll be sitting together."
His gaze flickers toward her briefly, then back to the window. After another pause, he adds, almost as an afterthought—
"I’m Sung Hoon."
There’s no forced politeness, no unnecessary small talk—just a simple introduction, as if he’s indifferent to the situation. But the slight tilt of his head and the way his eyes linger a second longer than necessary hint at quiet curiosity.
The first few hours of the flight were mediocre—two hours in a metal tube full of people will do that to you. She puts on her headphones briskly to wash out the background noise, or her underlying anxiety, she couldn’t be bothered to figure out the difference—and frankly, it’s best kept unknown.
She stares blankly into nothing in particular, her gaze shifting occasionally to her window, fingertips gently tapping against the armrest subconsciously. After making herself comfortable against her own headrest—her eyes wander towards his direction. He’s got his earbuds on, but from what she can observe, it’s only in one ear.
Another beat of tension awkwardly vibrates between them, unspoken questions lingering—when she breaks the silence.
“Romona,” she says promptly.
He glances sideways at her, their eyes locking for a split second before he nods curtly, tilting his head further back onto his seat.
What the fuck just happened.
The following hours ensued just as the first few had—white noise in the back while thoughts of all kinds consumed her. It was her first time flying alone, and even though she’s thought everything through, she can’t help the ‘what if’s’ that circulate through her head.
Around three hours later, the flight attendants roll out with their service trollies in tow, the wheels dragging silently on the carpeted floors. They accommodate everyone down the aisle. Before she could open her mouth to order when she arrived to their row, however—Sung Hoon had already placed a cup of coffee on her tray.
“You look stressed, here.” He says it with a tone that suggested he’s noticed her subtle restlessness and interpreted it—correctly—as agitation.
She muttered out a muffled thanks as she clears her throat, turning to face the window—finding a sudden awe in the, well, nonexistent view. Despite both of them having their headphones on, the silence was deafening between them, tensions existing because of something neither of them can put their finger on.
Being stuck on a long flight with a random girl was one thing, but when this girl is… uniquely intriguing—as we’ll put it—the concept of ‘stranger danger’ doesn’t pose as much of a threat as it formerly did. He quick-glances at her discreetly, his thumb curving over his index’s knuckle to press on it, the cogs in his mind working. Without giving it much thought, he slightly turns himself in his seat towards her.
“First time?” He asks shortly, his tone marginally softer than before—almost as if he’s being cautious.
Her ears perk up at this. She nods, fidgeting with her fingers.
“Yeah… you?”
He shakes his head, crossing his arms—adopting a casual stance
“Nope.”
For a second—he pauses, as if he’s considering asking a question. Then, he blurts out.
“You’re traveling alone?” He asks pragmatically.
She raises an eyebrow, chuckling softly.
“Gee, totally not giving stalker-vibes right now.” After a moment, she adds— “Yes, I’m going alone.”
He scoffs indignantly, it trailing off into a soft snicker. “That’s not what I… forget it.”
She huffs in amusement. “Chill, I’m kidding. You?”
He nods, sinking back into his seat, taking off his earbud as he does so.
“Mhm, alone.”
She nods back slowly,
“Nice…”
Another wave of silence is brought between them, but this time—it doesn’t seem as tense as it did before. Another hour passes like this, the two of them go on about their respective flight routines— the both of them isolating themselves with their headphones, their heads practically buried in their laptops, the weirdly comforting humming of the plane’s engine in the background.
Occasionally, Sung Hoon manages to sneak a few glances at her in-between the systematic clicks of his laptop keys, to which she also starts flicking her gaze to him—her eyes scanning over his features before reverting back to her own laptop.
A couple hours pass, everything and everyone in the cabin is seemingly normal. Until suddenly, a low rumble produces from the airplane floor—which soon turned into bumps of an eerie rhythm.
People start noticing the noise and their faces turn frantic, flight attendants pacing down aisles to reassure their passengers of their safety. A few minutes pass in this silent surge of hidden panic when the pilot makes the official announcement that yes—the mild turbulence was to continue until further notice.
This, what seems to be an incredibly common occurrence on place, further adds to the accumulation of uncertainty that’s already overstayed its welcome in Romona’s mind—she isn’t afraid of flying, but she’d be a liar if she didn’t feel at least a little scared. Sung Hoon notices this, however he doesn’t comment on it. And from time to time—even though he’d never admit it—he traces her face quickly with his eyes, unintentionally searching it for discomfort.
I’m just looking around. Nothing more. She’s JUST a stranger.
But even as he repeats those statements to himself, his line of sight always finds its way back to her—whether he’s aware of it or not.
For the next few minutes she falls into an obsessively paranoid sequence; look out the window, tap her fingers on the armrest, and sip a huge gulp of water. By the time it’s her fifth repeat, her bottle’s already finished—to which she just reverts to fidgeting with her own fingers. To everyone else, she looks like she’s probably the most composed person in that damn plane—nothing about her face even suggesting a hint of her inner turmoil.
But Sung Hoon notices. And god does that fact pick at him.
This cycle continues subtly in the background as the plane attempts to steady itself, everyone seeming to mingle and converse amongst themselves as the cabin winds back down. The only thing missing is the confirmation announcement from the captain that they’re in the clear—which has yet to present itself. Regardless, the blanket of tensity that fell over the two of them and the other passengers had produced an air pocket that at the least provided momentary peace-of-mind, for well—everyone on board.
This doesn’t stop Sung Hoon from briefly peeping at her, before he snaps his gaze back onto his laptop, attempting to zone in on whatever is on his screen. The silence eases her slightly as she calms herself down, her breathing evening out. They fall back into their unconscious rhythm of cohesion as they sit next to each other, both of them feeling the other’s presence at their sides but doing nothing in particular about it.
As she’s scribbling something in the notebook she’s laid out, she accidentally knocks her lip balm off the edge of her table and onto the floor beneath them. Before she can pick it up herself though, he’s already leaned down and placed it back on her table without a word regarding it. When he straightens back up—their eyes lock. A beat. Then another, before she gives him a small nod of gratitude, to which he gives a curt nod in response.
A stillness in atmosphere falls between the two once more, their frequencies interacting but not disruptive. You’d think the air would’ve been immensely more intense after what happened—it’s only human nature. But everyone seems calm and relaxed. Too relaxed.
Then, a sharp jolt shook the plane—so violent that it made ears ring. Yelps of surprise and pure horror vibrate through the air. The walls shake in an eerie rhythm, the cups on some tables spilling out onto the surface below them—an addition to the chaotic frenzy that was about to ensue. The atmosphere around them began to turn and distort its direction discernibly, her anxiety coming back in full swing.
You’d think she’d be able to stabilize herself on her own—she’s flying to a whole different country after all—but to hell with it if her heart wasn’t banging against her own chest. Every worst-case scenario that her mind could possibly fathom slid across her eyes, each one adding to the gut-wrenching feeling in her chest.
This CAN’T be happening right now
Her hands instinctively grab the armrests slightly harder than before, the small veins on them popping out from within her skin. He notices this, and seems to pay no mind to it. Her breath starts to come out shaky, her bottom lip trembling.
Then, bang.
Another strike of turbulence hits the cabin full speed, passengers jolting at it while the cabin churns in all directions.
When she braces herself against her seat as her head hits the headrest, she feels a warm grasp around her wrist.
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─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── Hope you guys had fun reading! Next chapter coming soon!! ⋆˚꩜