“Have you given it any thought?” Orm's voice broke the silence as they walked down the corridor, their footsteps echoing softly in the quiet space. She reached out, her fingers brushing against Lingling’s hand, almost as if testing the waters. Lingling hesitated for a moment before letting her hand settle into Orm’s, their fingers intertwining naturally as they continued walking, preparing for another long, busy day ahead.
Lingling glanced at Orm, her expression unreadable. “Just give me time, Orm,” she said quietly, her voice carrying a mix of patience and uncertainty. Orm nodded, her gaze steady but soft, as though she understood more than she let on.
“Well, can I still hold your hand while I wait?” Orm asked, her voice low, a teasing edge hidden beneath the words. She squeezed Lingling's hand gently, the touch warm, almost comforting in its familiarity. Lingling’s lips twitched in the faintest of smiles, her fingers tightening around Orm's hand in response, a subtle acknowledgment of the bond that had been quietly growing between them.
It had been a few months since they’d been paired up for the project, their days filled with back-to-back interviews, rehearsals, and endless preparations. Being in such close proximity for so long had forged a bond between them, one that was undeniable but complicated. Lingling knew it—could feel it in the way her heart seemed to beat just a little faster whenever Orm was near—but she wasn’t the type to easily change the status quo. Especially not when the consequences of such a shift might ripple through every part of their lives.
When they first started working together, Orm had been playful, her presence like a spark that ignited curiosity in Lingling. She tested the limits of Lingling’s patience with flirtatious glances, teasing touches, and moments that had crossed the line during filming. But that had been months ago. In the last month, something had shifted. Orm’s playful demeanor had turned into something more—something Lingling couldn’t ignore, even if she tried.
Lingling didn’t want to admit it, but it was getting harder to deny that her feelings were changing. It wasn’t just the hand-holding, or the way Orm’s gaze lingered a little longer than necessary. It was everything. The quiet moments between them. The way Orm had a way of making her feel seen in a way no one else did. Lingling couldn’t tell if it was the slow burn of their growing connection, or the fear that it might complicate everything, but something inside her was beginning to shift.
“I’m not saying no, Orm,” Lingling murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. She glanced at Orm, her expression unreadable but her eyes betraying a flicker of something deeper. Orm, always perceptive, caught it.
“Just say when,” Orm replied softly, her hand squeezing Lingling’s again, this time with an intensity that spoke volumes. Lingling wasn’t sure whether it was Orm’s growing affection or the pull of something she couldn’t yet define, but it made her heart ache in a way she wasn’t prepared for.
The car hummed softly along the road, the familiar rhythm of tires on asphalt accompanying their comfortable silence. Lingling gazed out of the window, her mind still tangled in the chaos of the morning shoot. It had been another one of those days—rushed, full of moving parts and fleeting moments. She barely noticed when Orm pulled up to the side of the road, parking with a practiced ease.
Orm’s voice cut through the quiet, casual and unwavering, like she’d been holding onto this thought for far longer than she let on.
“I’ve decided.”
Lingling blinked, her attention snapping to Orm, who was staring ahead, her fingers loosely gripping the steering wheel. Her tone was light, but something in it felt serious—like a weight Lingling hadn’t fully noticed yet. Orm’s eyes remained forward, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of her lips as if this moment was something that belonged in her day-to-day routine.
“Decided about what?” Lingling asked, the curiosity tinged with confusion. Orm’s words hadn’t sunk in yet.
Orm’s gaze flicked to Lingling briefly, eyes sharp and filled with determination. She shrugged, almost too casually, as if the statement she was about to make wasn’t earth-shattering. "I’ll spend the rest of my life with you."
The words hung in the air like they’d just been dropped from the sky. Lingling’s heart skipped, her breath catching in her chest as she turned to face Orm, trying to gauge whether she was serious or if this was another one of Orm’s usual playful remarks.
“What?” Lingling’s voice cracked slightly as the weight of the words settled. Her mind raced to catch up with the casualness Orm had wrapped around something so significant.
Orm didn’t falter. In fact, she leaned back into the seat, a faint glimmer of mischief dancing in her eyes. “I’m going to wife you up, Lingling Kwong.”
She threw a wink in Lingling’s direction, as though it were the most natural thing in the world—like she’d just casually asked if Lingling wanted a coffee or if she preferred the window open. But Lingling felt a shiver run through her. It was not the teasing she was used to. No, this was different. Orm’s voice was confident, sure of herself in a way Lingling hadn’t heard before.
Lingling laughed, though it was nervous, unsure how to react to this bold declaration. “Don’t I get a say in this?”
Orm’s smile grew, unshaken. “You have. ‘Yes’ would be the only one.”
Lingling froze for a moment, a strange mix of disbelief and something else—something she couldn’t quite identify—bubbling up within her. She took a deep breath, forcing herself to focus, to rationalize this sudden wave of emotions. “Orm, you’re only 22 years old—”
“Yes, and your point is?” Orm’s eyebrow arched playfully, her gaze turning sideways to meet Lingling’s. “If you’re going to tell me I’m too young, let me just point out that you’ve been saying I’m wise beyond my years.”
There it was again—the casual confidence, the ease with which Orm wove humor into such a serious declaration. But Lingling wasn’t sure if she was ready for this. Was this real? Or was Orm just teasing again, pushing boundaries as she had done from the start?
Lingling’s voice faltered as she tried to grasp at logic, something to steady the growing panic inside her. “You could experience so much more—”
Orm’s eyes softened for just a second before she responded, her tone now serious, but still unwavering. “I want to experience them with you.” The words were quiet, but they resonated deep within Lingling’s chest. “I want to experience everything with you, Lingling Kwong.”
There was a moment of silence, just the hum of the engine and the sound of Lingling’s own heartbeat in her ears. Orm turned slightly toward her, locking eyes with Lingling as she let her words sink in.
And then Orm smiled again, that same teasing, persistent grin that always seemed to cut through the layers of Lingling’s resistance. “I’ll wear you down, Lingling Kwong.”
Lingling didn’t respond right away. She wasn’t sure what to say. There was something undeniably magnetic about Orm’s certainty, her unwavering pursuit that somehow made Lingling’s doubts feel small and distant. How could anyone resist someone who believed so completely in what they wanted?
But still, Lingling couldn’t shake the confusion, the uncertainty swirling inside her. This was no longer just a passing joke. Orm was serious.
Lingling took a breath, trying to steady her racing thoughts, her emotions too jumbled to make sense of. And as she sat there, staring at Orm, a slow realization began to settle in—maybe, just maybe, Orm wasn’t just playing around anymore.
As the months went by, Lingling couldn’t ignore the quiet shift between them. It started slowly, imperceptibly at first—just little changes in the way they interacted, in the small gestures that started to feel more intimate than casual. If Orm had been beautiful before, there was something undeniably radiant about her now. It was as if she had taken on a light of her own, glowing with an energy that seemed to infuse everything around her. She had become more than just a presence in Lingling’s life; she had become the sun that lit up the spaces between them, making everything feel warmer, closer, more alive.
Lingling noticed it in the way Orm moved, in how she always seemed to be attuned to Lingling's needs—both the obvious and the unspoken ones. Orm had always been caring in her own way, but now there was a deeper level of attentiveness, a quiet desire to take care of Lingling in ways Lingling hadn’t realized she needed.
It used to be that Lingling was the one who kept an eye on Orm, making sure she ate at the right times or reminding her to get some sleep, but now, the roles were subtly shifting. Orm had started to look after Lingling in her own way—small, thoughtful gestures that spoke volumes about her growing affection.
Lingling began to notice these moments more and more, like the way her favorite coffee would always be waiting for her on the makeup table, the steam rising from the cup just enough to carry the comforting aroma that made Lingling feel grounded and cared for. Or the peeled orange that Orm would hand her when Lingling was in the middle of a hectic workday, too busy to think about food but always too hungry to ignore the craving. Orm would simply offer it, a quiet smile on her face, her eyes soft with an unspoken understanding that Lingling was always running on fumes but never took the time to care for herself.
It wasn’t just the coffee or the orange. It was the way Orm would check in when Lingling’s exhaustion was too evident, the way she made sure Lingling was tucked in for the night when the long days left her too drained to do it herself. Lingling had always been the caretaker, the one who made sure everyone around her was okay, but Orm’s new attention to her well-being was starting to shift something deep within her.
Orm had a way of making Lingling feel seen—truly seen. Not as the CH3 artist everyone else knew her as, but as Lingling, the person who sometimes forgot to breathe in the rush of everything. And that was when it hit Lingling—the subtle but undeniable truth that Orm wasn’t just in this with her. She was in it for her, every little moment of it. Lingling’s walls had always been high, built to protect her from anyone who could get too close. But with Orm’s quiet, unwavering affection, the walls were starting to crack.
Orm wasn’t asking for anything in return. She simply gave, in her own way—her love wrapped up in actions, not words. And slowly, Lingling felt herself softening, her heart opening to the person who had been so steady beside her, without ever pushing her to change.
---
It was late, the kind of late where the world outside had quieted, leaving Lingling’s apartment in a peaceful hush. Lingling sat curled up on the couch, a script in her hands, but her focus was scattered, her mind wandering between the pages. She hadn’t even noticed Orm entering the room until she felt the warmth of her presence beside her.
Orm lowered herself onto the couch next to Lingling, the soft rustle of her clothes breaking the silence. For a moment, neither of them said anything, the quiet comfortable in its own way. Orm stretched out, her arm casually resting behind Lingling on the back of the couch. The subtle proximity sent a quiet spark through Lingling’s chest, but she pretended not to notice, her attention fixed on the material in her hands.
Then Orm’s voice broke the quiet, soft and teasing. “You know, if you keep staring at those words like that, they’re never going to make sense.”
Lingling looked up, her brow furrowing in mock frustration. “I’m trying to read, Orm,” she said, her tone light, but there was something in her voice that felt soft, almost tender.
Orm’s gaze lingered on her, unreadable for a moment, before she leaned in closer, just enough to make Lingling feel the closeness between them. She didn’t say anything right away, just watched Lingling as though studying her, trying to catch a glimpse of whatever thought was running through her mind.
Then, without any more warning, Orm gently nudged the script from Lingling’s hands, her fingers brushing against Lingling’s in a way that felt electric, a spark that traveled straight to Lingling’s heart.
Lingling blinked, caught off guard by the sudden action. “Hey,” she started, but Orm only smiled at her, a quiet, knowing smile that made Lingling’s pulse quicken.
“You’ve been working so hard,” Orm said softly, her voice steady, but carrying a warmth that made Lingling’s heart swell. “You deserve a moment to just… be. With me. No distractions.”
Before Lingling could respond, Orm reached forward, her hand lightly cupping Lingling’s cheek, her thumb brushing the curve of her jaw. The touch was so gentle, so sincere, that Lingling felt herself leaning into it without thinking, her eyes fluttering closed for a brief second.
Orm’s voice, barely above a whisper, brought her back. “I’m here, Lingling. You don’t have to do anything for me. Just be here. With me.”
Lingling’s breath caught, the simplicity of the moment making her feel exposed, but in a way that was soothing, not scary. She opened her eyes to meet Orm’s gaze, and for a second, everything else faded away. It wasn’t about the world, or the work, or the chaos of their lives—it was just them, sitting together, existing in a moment that felt so perfectly right.
Orm’s hand stayed on her cheek for just a beat longer, before slowly pulling away, though she didn’t move too far. The quiet between them deepened, but this time, it was a comfortable silence, filled with understanding.
Lingling finally spoke, her voice soft, a hint of vulnerability in it. “I don’t know how you do it. Make everything feel like it’s just… us.”
Orm’s smile widened, her eyes sparkling with something tender, something real. “I think it’s because I don’t need anything else. Just you.”
Lingling felt her heart swell with something indescribable. Maybe it was love, maybe it was something more. Either way, it was something she was starting to believe in.
---
Their dynamic had been flowing smoothly, the kind of rhythm they had both grown comfortable with over time. Orm had always been open with her about her life outside of work—Lingling knew about the little things Orm enjoyed, like playing badminton in her free time. Orm had invited her to join more than once, though Lingling had always politely declined.
Lingling was well aware of how stunning Orm was—who wouldn’t be? Everywhere Orm went, she seemed to turn heads effortlessly, a magnetic presence that drew attention without even trying. And while Lingling trusted Orm, there was always this unspoken tension between them that lingered in the background. It wasn’t about trust, not at all. It was more about her own hesitation, the uncertainty of what might happen if they blurred the lines. She wasn’t sure yet how to navigate the space between being just friends and something deeper, something that might change everything.
But despite the doubt swirling in her mind, Lingling couldn’t deny that Orm’s heart wasn’t interested in casual flings. Orm had always been there for her in the quiet moments that mattered the most, showing up when it counted, without hesitation. It was in those moments—when Orm stood by her side, offering quiet support or a wordless understanding—that Lingling found herself anchored. And though she may have been uncertain about what the future held, she knew one thing for sure: Orm’s loyalty was something she could rely on, no matter what.
But everything shifted the moment Lingling encountered the news about Orm and Popor. It wasn’t just a casual mention; it felt like a weight on her chest, something she wasn’t ready for. The news brought with it a torrent of doubt. Orm had been reassuring, but Lingling couldn’t stop the questions swirling in her mind.
Ormmormm: Even if we’re not yet together, I’m yours Ling. Always.
Ormmormm: I’ll handle it.
But now, seeing the news, the reassurance that Orm had given felt distant, the weight of her uncertainty bearing down on her chest. Had she waited too long? Was Orm tired of her? How serious had Orm’s involvement with Popor been? Lingling had started to spiral, but her pride and confusion kept her from reaching out. She didn’t realize how much she was avoiding Orm until she was cornered.
“What's the problem, Ling?” Orm’s voice was calm, yet persistent, her eyes steady with concern as she met Lingling’s gaze. Lingling shook her head, not knowing how to explain the mess in her heart. She tried to walk away, the emotions too overwhelming, but Orm's hand shot out and gently grasped her wrist.
“Use your words, please,” Orm said, her voice low but firm. “I can’t stand this silence. I can’t fix it if I don’t know what’s going on.”
Lingling’s throat tightened, a feeling of vulnerability rising in her chest. It all came tumbling out in an unexpected burst of emotion. “Why don’t you just go back to Popor?” she blurted, the words escaping before she could stop them. The shock of her own voice caught her off guard, but it wasn’t the real question. The real question was buried beneath the surface, one she hadn’t known how to ask.
Orm didn’t pull away. Instead, she stepped forward, pulling Lingling into her arms, the warmth of her embrace enveloping Lingling like a shield against the uncertainty.
“I’m not interested in her, Ling,” Orm murmured, her voice steady and full of conviction. “I can’t even see anyone past you, Jiejie.” Her words were soft but laced with an intensity that made Lingling’s heart ache.
Lingling didn’t know why she was reacting this way. She was confused, hurt, and filled with a mix of emotions she couldn’t fully articulate. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I don’t know why I’m like this.”
Orm’s grip tightened around her, pulling her closer, the weight of Orm’s presence grounding her. “I like it,” Orm said, her words tender as she pressed a gentle kiss to Lingling’s cheek. Her thumb stroked her skin as if trying to soothe the storm Lingling couldn’t calm on her own.
“You don’t have to worry when it comes to me, hmm?” Orm said, her eyes locking with Lingling’s, filled with warmth and quiet certainty. Lingling found herself unable to look away, something in Orm’s gaze cutting through the fog of doubt. She nodded before she could stop herself, a silent agreement to trust Orm’s words, even if she wasn’t fully sure of herself.
In that moment, Lingling realized it wasn’t just about what Orm said—it was how Orm made her feel. Every word, every touch, spoke volumes. Orm had always been reassuring, but now, in the quiet aftermath of her insecurities, Lingling felt more certain than ever that Orm’s heart was with her, and only her.
Later that evening, Orm went live on TikTok to dispel the rumors, her usual energy and charisma filling the screen, but this time, there was something different. She didn’t just talk to her followers; she looked into the camera with a calm assurance, as if everything was okay, because, in her heart, she knew it was. She knew Lingling was watching, maybe even listening, and she wanted to send the message loud and clear—No one else but you, Ling.
---
It all came to a head when Mae Koy called Lingling with a sense of urgency, her voice barely calm as she mentioned they were at the hospital because Orm’s stomach had been acting up. Lingling didn’t hear much past the word hospital. Her heart skipped a beat, and without thinking, she immediately instructed the driver to turn around, urgency rising within her chest as she headed in that direction.
When she arrived, her eyes locked onto Orm, who was hooked up to an IV, her eyes closed, looking far too pale and exhausted. The sight of her like that, vulnerable and worn down, made Lingling’s stomach twist with worry. It hit her harder than she expected—the reality of Orm being in a fragile state, needing care. Lingling was so focused on Orm that she jumped when Mae Koy gently held her arm and whispered, “Be gentle,” before quietly stepping out of the room.
Lingling, still in shock, quietly sat down by Orm’s bedside, her throat tight. She cleared it softly, the sound cutting through the quiet room. The sound startled Orm, who slowly opened her eyes and gave Lingling a small, guilty smile. But Lingling didn’t smile back—she couldn’t. The worry in her chest was too heavy, too raw.
“You can’t keep doing this, Orm,” Lingling started, her voice softer than she intended, though it carried a weight of concern. “My heart was racing when Mama Koy called me and said you were here. Please… please take better care of yourself.”
Orm opened her mouth to respond, but Lingling cut her off before she could say a word.
“I am—” Orm started, but Lingling’s voice sharpened, a mix of frustration and fear creeping into her words.
“Don’t even try!” Lingling’s voice rose as she stood up, pacing the small room with her hands clenched at her sides. “You can’t keep doing this, Orm! You can’t just go off and do all those things, then leave me, without a warning, without thinking of what it does to me! You can’t just let me get used to the feeling of being loved by you, and then rip it away, leaving me here to wonder if you’re alright. You can’t do that, because I…” Lingling’s breath hitched, and for a moment, her voice faltered. “I can’t…”
The pacing stopped abruptly when Orm’s hand gently caught her wrist, pulling her back. Lingling stood still, heart racing, not sure how to feel, but Orm’s calm touch grounded her, slowing the storm inside.
“Hey, I’m okay. I’ll be better,” Orm said softly, her voice steady as she pulled Lingling toward her. Lingling hovered over Orm’s bedside, her hands instinctively reaching up to gently cradle Orm’s face, her touch almost trembling as it traced the contours of Orm’s skin.
“You just can’t, okay?” Lingling whispered, her voice quieter now, filled with a mixture of tenderness and fear. She needed Orm to understand, to hear the depth of her concern, of her heart that couldn’t handle the uncertainty of it all.
Orm gave a teasing smile, trying to lighten the mood, but Lingling wasn’t having it this time. Her eyes were filled with sincerity as she spoke with resolve. “What are you going to do about it?” Orm asked with a playful glint, trying to ease the tension.
Without skipping a beat, Lingling answered firmly, her heart raw and her feelings more exposed than ever. “I’ll wife you up.”
The words hung in the air for a heartbeat before Lingling leaned down, her lips meeting Orm’s in a kiss that was soft, yet laden with every unspoken emotion they both carried. It wasn’t just a kiss—it was a promise, a vow that went deeper than any words could convey. And in that moment, Lingling knew there was no turning back from how she felt about Orm.