Orbit

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Her fingers trembled as she dialed the number she knew by heart, the rhythm of the ring in her ear matching the unsteady beats of her chest. Each second felt like it stretched into eternity until the line finally clicked.

“Hello?”

Namtan’s voice on the other end was warm and familiar, but there was a tension to it now, a quiet waiting, as though she, too, was unsure what to expect next.

Film paused, biting her lip. She had so many questions, so many things she wanted to say, but she needed to hear one thing, first.

“Phi, do you really mean it?” she asked softly, the weight of the question more than just curiosity. It was a plea, an opening for the truth, for Namtan to confirm everything that had just been laid bare over the airwaves.

The silence on the other end felt endless. Film held her breath, the space between the question and the answer stretching as she waited, her heart in her throat. Then, Namtan spoke, her voice quieter now, but unmistakably sincere.

“I mean it, Film. Every single word.”

Film’s chest tightened, a rush of emotion she wasn’t prepared for flooding through her. She had always doubted that Namtan could feel the same way. But now, Namtan’s words hung in the air like a lifeline, offering her something she’d been afraid to hope for.

There was a pause before Namtan continued, a small sigh escaping her lips. “I’m not asking for instant forgiveness. But I’m asking for a chance. A chance to show you, to prove to you that I’m serious. That I’m here, not just in the good times, but in all of it. I want us to try. If you’ll let me.”

Film felt her heart swell at the sincerity in Namtan’s voice. It wasn’t perfect, and it wasn’t easy, but Namtan wasn’t asking for it to be. She was simply asking for a chance.

She closed her eyes, a smile tugging at her lips despite herself. “One step at a time, Phi,” she said, her voice steady now. “But I’m willing to try, too.”

The relief in Namtan’s laugh was audible, and for the first time in a long while, Film felt her heart open up to the possibility of what could be. They had a long road ahead of them.

Later that night, Film lay in bed with her phone pressed to her ear, the soft hum of wind chimes in the background. Namtan was still on the line, their call stretching past midnight like old times. The heaviness from earlier had eased into something lighter, easier.

“I still can’t believe you actually sang it,” Film said softly, her voice full of wonder, like the thought was still settling in.

Namtan groaned on the other end. “Ugh, don’t remind me.”

Film was giggling so hard she could barely catch her breath. “You were brave. And emotional. And... honestly, a little bit pitchy on the second verse.”

Namtan let out a dramatic gasp. “I knew I cracked a note! I felt it happen and I just powered through like a wounded cat.”

“But it was… heartfelt,” Film replied, her voice warm, her words gently wrapped in a smile. “Phi, did you know my hands were sweaty and trembling the whole time I was listening, and I felt like my heart rate was off the roof”

“You were nervous?” Namtan asked, sounding surprised and a little soft now.

“Terrified,” Film confessed. “I thought maybe I imagined everything between us. But then you sang, and suddenly it was like, everything made sense. Like I wasn’t crazy after all.”

“You were never crazy,” Namtan said gently. “Just patient. And way too good for me.”

Film gave a quiet laugh. “Don’t say that. I was just scared.”

“Well, I was too” Namtan said with a small huff, “I was the one sobbing into a studio microphone like a broken karaoke machine.”

Film giggled. “Just with a slightly wobbly high note.”

“Oh my gosh,” Namtan whined, but her laughter bubbled up anyway. “I’m never singing again.”

“You are,” Film said sweetly. “But I have to be the first to hear it. Not the whole city.”

Namtan’s cheeks flustered, “I wanted to make sure you had to listen”

There was a beat of quiet, the kind that felt full of smiles you could hear even without seeing.

“Well,” Film said, her voice glowing with something bright and fluttery, “I’m listening now. To all of it.”

Namtan was quiet for a second. Then, with a soft, flustered kind of laugh, she said, “You’re gonna make me cry again.”

“Please don’t,” Film said. “Your poor eyes have been through enough today.”

“Kiss them then,” Namtan mumbled, biting her cheeks from the inside. “My poor eyes deserve  it; they’ve cried a puddle of feelings today.”

“You’re my puddle of feelings,” Film said without even thinking.

And the silence that followed was soft, golden, breathless.

“…Did you just call me yours?” Namtan whispered, teasing but touched.

Film’s voice dipped shyly. “Maybe.”

“Well,” Namtan said, grinning into the phone, “this puddle of feelings can’t wait to see you tomorrow”

“…and get those kisses”

Film felt her cheeks warm, her voice barely above a whisper now. “You’ll get them,” she murmured. “Tomorrow. One for each tear you shed... maybe more, if you ask nicely.”

Namtan let out the softest laugh, the kind that made Film’s chest flutter. “That’s a dangerous promise.”

“I’m feeling brave tonight,” Film said, her smile audible. “Must be the effect of a certain late-night singer serenading me.”

“Oh, I’ve never seen this side of you before, I like it, maybe I could inspire more things out of you?” Namtan teased.

Film hummed, sleepy and happy. “Mm-hmm. And maybe a little bit of butterflies, too.”

A quiet settled over them again. The comfortable kind, where neither needed to speak to feel the closeness.

Then Namtan’s voice came through, tender and low. “Good night… babi.”

“Good night, babi.”

“Dream of me, okay?”

Film smiled, her eyes slipping closed. “Only if you dream of me back.”

“I have been, many nights before” Namtan confesses, eyes closing, lips curled into a smile.

And with that, the call faded to silence but the warmth stayed, lingering in their hearts like a lullaby.

The next morning, Film wasn’t expecting much. A text, maybe. A sticker on LINE. A sleepy “good morning” at most. But when she turned the corner toward her usual bus stop, her steps slowed.

There, waiting with two steaming cups of coffee in her hands and a hopeful little smile on her face, was Namtan.

Film blinked. “Phi?”

“I figured I’d catch you before the day tried to,” Namtan said, holding out one of the cups. “You said you like it with two sugars, right?”

Film took it, still a little stunned, the warmth of the cup soaking into her fingers. “You remembered.”

“Of course I did.” Namtan’s voice was soft, steady. “I remember a lot of things about you.”

For a moment, they just stood there, holding her coffee, heart quietly racing, and Namtan looking at her like she was exactly where she wanted to be.

“You didn’t have to wait for me,” Film said, though her smile betrayed how much she liked that she did.

“I know,” Namtan said, and there was no hesitation in her voice. “But I wanted to.”

They walked together toward campus, falling into step like it had always been natural. The city was already busy. Horns, chatter, the buzz of motorbikes but in the bubble between them, things felt calm. Soft.

They talked about silly things. Group assignments, the theater play’s progress, the overpriced toast at the cafe near the library. But underneath it all was a quiet understanding: things were shifting, and they were letting it happen, together.

And then, just as they reached the quiet stretch before the university gates, Film shifted a little closer. Without saying a word, she slipped her arm through Namtan’s and gently linked them together.

Namtan stiffened ever so slightly in surprise, almost choking on her coffee before her shoulders relaxed.

Film couldn’t resist the smile forming on her face but choosing to look straight ahead instead, cheeks pink, pretending to admire a nearby billboard.

Namtan coughs comically, “I’m not normally a morning person but if my mornings will be like this with you then I won’t mind. Do you want me to get up at 5am next time?” Namtan jokes.

“Why bother when you can just…I don’t know, maybe sleep over?” Film suggests, matter-of-factly.

Namtan’s jaw drops and her eyes widen like that of an owl’s.

Film didn’t look at her. She sipped her coffee very innocently. Arm still linked around Namtan.

“You—” Namtan sputtered. “Did you just—?”

Film blinked, all sugar-sweet and unfazed. “Hmm?”

Namtan pointed at her. “Ma’am. That was illegal.”

Film finally turned to her, trying and failing to look serious. “What? It’s just a practical suggestion. Saves time. Cuts down commute. Environmentally friendly” she smiles mischievously.

Namtan squinted, lips twitching as she tried to suppress her smile. “You’re dangerous in the mornings.”

“Which means…” Film said, taking a smug little sip, “you better get used to it, fast.”

Their arms stayed entwined the rest of the way to campus, swinging slightly with every step. And by the time they reached the university gates, both their hearts were too full to speak.

“See you later at rehearsals?” Namtan asked, trying to sound casual but failing adorably.

Film nodded, finally meeting her eyes with a soft smile. “See you.”

And just like that, they parted. One step closer, one touch warmer, and both a whole lot happier than yesterday.

- 🐥See you on the next chapter 🐼-