The photographer adjusts their camera settings, fingers swift and practiced, their focus unwavering.
“You fly often?” they ask, their voice casual, more out of obligation than genuine curiosity. A low chuckle.
“Well, it’d be concerning if I didn’t,” he replies, eyes flicking between the controls and the view beyond the windshield. There’s silence for a moment. The click of the shutter breaks it. “You nervous?” Jackson asks, glancing over.
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