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A flight attendant and a CEO meet by chance, then keep finding each other in moments that feel a little too charged to ignore. No rush, no promises, just curiosity, restraint and something slowly unfolding.
Sometimes, it sounds like this:
Orm:
So...
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Lingling stood by the entrance of the bar like a cat at the edge of a bathtub, arms crossed, denim jacket zipped halfway, expression unamused.
"This is a terrible idea," she said flatly, eyes scanning the noisy crowd inside.
Junji dressed to kill and grinning like the devil, ignored her. "You said that about yoga, karaoke, and that tofu hotpot place, and guess who loved all three?"
"I tolerated all three," Lingling corrected. "and I only went to yoga because I thought the instructor was cute."
Junji laughed, grabbing her hand and tugging her forward. "Exactly. You have instincts. Terrible taste in dates, but solid instincts."
Lingling sighed through her nose. Maybe she did need a night off, if only to shut her brain up after a week of work emails, fittings, and supplier drama.
Lingling muttered something under her breath, letting herself be pulled into the bar despite everything in her soul screaming that her couch missed her. She wore her favorite tee and trusty black jeans, topping it off with a worn denim jacket. Comfortable, plain, and wildly off-brand for someone who ran a fashion company. But she wasn't here to impress anyone. Tonight, survival took priority over style.
Inside, the lights blinked like a dying traffic signal. The bass vibrated in her ribs. Someone elbowed past her with a laugh and a tray of neon drinks. Lingling squinted. "I already hate it here," she said.
Junji waved a dismissive hand. "That's just your social anxiety talking."
"No, that's my entire being talking."
Junji plopped onto a barstool, patting the one next to her like she was offering a dog a treat. "Sit. Drink. Judge people with me."
Lingling gave Junji a flat look but sat down anyway. "Let's get one thing straight. I'm not here to dance, flirt, or fake-laugh at anyone's bad pickup lines."
Junji was already flagging down the bartender. "You say that like it's a threat."
"It is," Lingling said, deadpan. "To my own sanity."
Junji handed her a glass. "Just sip. Be mysterious. Maybe brood a little. Introverts are hot now."
Lingling smirked. "I'm not brooding. I'm processing my regrets."
Junji snorted. "Drink faster, so that you'll regret less."
They clinked glasses. Lingling took a sip. It was stronger than she liked but tolerable. Like this entire situation. She slouched a bit, letting her eyes wander across the room, not really looking, just killing time.
And then something or someone caught her eye. She blinked. Sat up straighter. Tilted her head, ever so slightly.
