You're Mine (Eternal)(BoyxBoy)M-Preg Series

PROLOG

"Excuse me—pardon me!" A young man hurried down the narrow aisle of an aircraft preparing for take-off, his voice carrying just above the low murmur of passengers settling into their seats.

Several flight attendants turned at once, their crisp blue uniforms with diagonal yellow stripes and neat matching caps lending them a faintly stern air. Their eyes narrowed in silent disapproval as the young man pressed forward, clearly flustered. He looked as though he had only just made it on board, cheeks flushed and breath slightly uneven.

"Sir, please don't run," one of the attendants said firmly, stepping into his path. "Take your seat and refrain from disturbing the other passengers."

He stopped short, turning towards her with a sheepish smile. Slightly shorter than average, his long black hair was tied neatly at the back of his neck, soft strands falling across his cheek. His eyes, dark and bright, darted nervously between the attendant and the rows of seats.

"My apologies, miss. I nearly forgot I was meant to fly back to Japan today—I almost missed the flight entirely," he admitted with a light laugh, the sound bubbling up despite his embarrassment.

The attendant's lips curved into a practised smile, though her brows pinched faintly as if to say she had far more pressing matters than his excuses. "And have you located your seat, sir?"

"Ah—yes, of course. Seat 3A!" he announced brightly, pointing ahead with a flourish that bordered on theatrical.

She sighed almost inaudibly and reached for his suitcase, intending to help him stow it, but he brushed her hand aside with a grin.

"I can manage, thank you. Please—don't trouble yourself."

With effortless ease, he lifted the suitcase into the overhead compartment and flashed her a soft, almost disarming smile. She turned away with a quiet huff, muttering under her breath, while he slid into his seat without so much as acknowledging the man already sitting beside him.

"Ow—!" his neighbour exclaimed, drawing his leg back sharply.

"Ah, did I step on your foot? My apologies. But perhaps you shouldn't stretch your legs in such a narrow space," the young man replied, entirely unrepentant. His tone was light, his face free of guilt, as if he were used to navigating crowded spaces and awkward encounters.

The other man stared, half incredulous, half irritated. He was tall, with sharp features and a crisp white shirt that contrasted with his tanned skin. A pair of wire-rimmed glasses perched on his nose, giving him an air of quiet authority.

"Bloody attendants," the newcomer muttered as he settled back into his seat. "All smiles for show—dreadful service."

His seatmate simply shook his head and returned to his book, determined to ignore him. The cover was in Japanese, the title embossed in gold. He held it with careful fingers, as if the words inside were precious.

Minutes later, the soft chime of an announcement warned that the plane was preparing for take-off, bound for Narita, Tokyo. The cabin lights dimmed, and the city outside the windows blurred into streaks of gold and blue.

With a sigh, the young man rummaged in his bag, withdrew a black sleep mask, and slipped it over his eyes.

"Oi, mate—would you mind waking me once we arrive in Japan?" His voice was muffled beneath the mask, casual as though they were old friends rather than strangers.

Silence stretched between them until the man finally murmured, with clear reluctance, "All right."

A grin spread across the masked traveller's lips—awkward, yet oddly endearing. Within moments, his breathing slowed, sleep overtaking him. His neighbour glanced sideways, watching the soft lines of his face relax. The faintest curl of a smile touched his own lips before he returned to his book, the noise of the aircraft fading to a muted hum.

Outside, the plane soared into the night, carrying two strangers toward a city where fate—and perhaps something more—awaited.

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