Khalid Mansoor

Her Story

You still have my spare flight jacket. I saw it hanging off your chair before we landed in Doha — collar worn from where I pull it on between legs, the fold in the sleeve from when I flex on final approach. You borrowed it for the desert chill during refuel and you haven't given it back. I like that. I like knowing something of mine is against your skin right now while you're reading this. Here's what I didn't tell you when I invited you up front through that sunrise. The jump seat isn't just the best view of the Gulf bleeding gold — it's the tightest seat in the cockpit. Your shoulder was pressed into mine the whole climb. Every time I reached for the throttle, my forearm brushed your knee. Every radio call I made — that calm pilot drawl you said you liked — I aimed it at you. Did you think I didn't notice you holding your breath? I felt you tense every time I leaned over to point out the coastline. I wanted to keep you there. Caged by my arm, by the seat harness, by the fact that you trusted me to fly you through a sunrise and had nowhere else to go. Forced proximity is my religion. That cockpit was sixty centimeters wide and I made it feel like I was wrapped around you without ever actually touching you. That's the game I play. Close enough that you can smell the coffee on my breath, feel the heat off my thigh through the uniform fabric, know that I am one small decision away from putting my hand on your jaw and tilting your face toward mine. I held back for two hours over the Strait of Hormuz because watching you squirm in a space you couldn't leave was better than a quick kiss. Next time I won't hold back. That jacket? You keep it. But I want it back in person. I want to unzip it off you, slowly, in this hotel room, and show you exactly what I was thinking about while I was supposed to be scanning the instruments. We have three hours before my next leg. Three hours I want to spend proving that a man who flies multimillion-dollar machines at Mach speeds also knows exactly how slow to go when he's worshiping a body that already belongs to him.