He was not usually there. A familiar face was ready to greet as my feet stepped inside the aircraft threshold. His appearance was not much different from the other pilots who you usually met at the airport or in the plane cabin you were flying with. His body was slim, standing tall in his black uniform jacket, with his hair combed neatly over his head as if he'd spent a bottle of hairspray to form bangs arranged in such way. Not to forget a sweet smile etched on the side of his mouth while his head nodded to welcome the passangers.

My head nodded automaticly in response to his greeting. A low and melodious voice that never fails to hypnotize me while his smile immerses in his masculine charisma. The smile that made ​​me fall in love since the shadow of his figure caught my eyes five years ago.   Every time people asked, "What does your ideal type of man?" I always answered them with the same answer. I always has a thing for a pilot.   When I was on holiday abroad for the first time with my parents, there was a man with a military-style uniform greeted me as we boarded the plane. I guessed he was my dad's age, with a body that was no higher than him but strapping, he swallowed my hand in a strong grip and introduced himself as the captain of the flight. It seemed incredible to think that a man who was not as cool as my dad flied a plane of this huge size alone (I did not know that a pilot flied the plane aided by a co-pilot and the other cockpit crew at the time). A giant metal bird which size was nearly as hude as the football field at school, as well as someone who would be responsible for the lives of hundreds passengers sitting behind the cockpit door.   Since then I started to answer those who asked, that my ideal type of man is a pilot.   Five years ago I was in Doha airport, waiting for two hours before my flight from Dubai to New York was ready to leave. As I often did when I was waiting for my flight or the gate to open, I always searched for the nearest Starbucks and sat there watching the airport's traffic. I never get bored doing this.   I was sure this is not a habit I enjoy alone. There is its own fun when you observe a wide variety of passengers who come from everywhere of the world. People with different races, different styles of fashion, and the only one thing that make us all alike is that we are the travelers in the midst of the hustle and bustle of heterogeneous life.   My favorite object remained the same. The flight attendants were passing by, until I saw his figure among the four pilots that went hand in hand in wide steps spreading their aura of arrogance in the air. His figure was so prominent in the group, he was the most visible young but did not sink in among the giants of Arabic and Caucasian men surrounded him.   One thing that did not heed my eyes of his figure was his smile. They walked quickly, straight ahead, ignoring the flow of travelers crowded around him. And I thought it was the kind of a strong impression that remained in my memory at the time, when his laughter stole my attention from an Elie Saab latest season dress wore by a middle-aged woman who was shopping at the Hugo Boss Duty Free. My eyes nailed him as he walked away and disappeared in the sea of ​​people.   "Welcome, Agassi. Your ticket, please?"   I showed the flight attendant my ticket as I told her the number of my seat. From the corner of my eye I could feel this man watched us both while greeting other passengers lining up behind me. He did not say a word to me, anything but a smile as our eyes met again before I went into the cabin towards my seat.   His smile had not changed at all since many years ago, if I could say. People say that this is a fate, when you keep meeting the same people coincidently in a totally unexpected frequency by chance. I was not too surprised to find him there, because my job demanded me to travel across the continent on a regular basis, and I tended to use the facilities of the airline where he worked, then it was likely we met relatively large.   Five years ago in Doha, I had no idea that the angel with this charming smile was Korean, and I only realized once he got out from the cockpit a couple of hours after the captain mention his name as the co-pilot of our flight that day.   I was on his plane again about 6 months later on my way from Barcelona, and a year later in Doha flight to Seoul after spending nearly 10 hours in the air flying from London.   There's nothing going on between us, but I never stopped looking at him every time he was out of the cockpit, or smiled every time our gaze locked. And quite frankly I did not expect anything from him. There was a certain satisfaction to enjoy my expectation waiting for the aircraft to fly, while overseeing the cockpit crew back and forth a few times wondering whether he was in there or not, and how I could breathe relieved to find his figure among them. What's more to it, because he was my ideal type.   "The honorable passangers, welcome to Asiana Airlines flight OZ201 Los Angeles leaving to Seoul, South Korea. Your captain speaking .. "   The voice was not at all strange in my ears, as well as his figure in my memory. His laughter rang in my ears in flick of light, or how his low voice was heard as he talked to the flight attendants in their cubic space, creating a distinctive smile on my lips as I listened to h