For Hearts Event
Ling point of view
Lingling arrived at the For Hearts event early, the bustling energy of the venue already palpable. The sprawling grounds were alive with activity—event staff scurrying around, celebrities mingling, and fans gathering at designated areas. Despite the lively atmosphere, Ling’s focus was elsewhere.
She scanned the artist section, her heart skipping a beat as she searched for Orm. Ling had convinced herself that Orm would arrive early, and they’d have a chance to speak before the day’s chaos began. But Orm wasn’t there.
“Where is she?” Ling murmured to herself, her anxiety bubbling beneath the surface.
She spotted P’Mam chatting with a coordinator and made her way over.
P’Mam greeted her with a warm smile. “Good morning, N’Ling. Everything alright?”
Ling hesitated, then asked, “Has Orm arrived yet?”
P’Mam’s smile faltered slightly, her eyes scanning Ling’s face. “Not yet. She’s probably on her way. Don’t worry about her, N’Ling. Focus on your part for now, okay?”
Ling frowned but nodded reluctantly. “Okay, P’Mam. I’ll try.”
As Ling returned to her section, she was greeted by Nadech and Yaya, who approached with their usual friendly charm.
“Ling! Ready to dominate today?” Nadech teased, offering her a high-five.
Ling forced a smile, her mind still preoccupied. “We’ll see, P’Nadech. I just hope we don’t embarrass ourselves.”
Yaya chuckled, nudging Nadech aside. “N’Ling, can I borrow you for a second? I need to talk to you privately.”
Ling blinked in surprise but nodded. “Of course, P’Yaya.”
The two stepped away from the crowd, finding a quieter spot near one of the tents. Yaya’s expression softened as she turned to Ling. “I wanted to give you a heads-up, Ling. There’s been... talk.”
Ling’s stomach tightened. “What kind of talk?”
Yaya hesitated, clearly trying to choose her words carefully. “About Orm and Popor. After the Dior event and... everything else. The industry’s buzzing with rumors. People are starting to put pieces together.”
Ling’s fists clenched at her sides, her jaw tightening. “What are they saying?”
“That Popor’s story doesn’t add up. That what happened between her and Orm wasn’t what people originally thought. It’s not concrete, but enough people are talking that it’s becoming a thing,” Yaya said gently. “I thought you should know.”
Ling exhaled sharply, her emotions threatening to spiral. “Thank you, P’Yaya. I appreciate you telling me.”
Yaya placed a comforting hand on Ling’s arm. “Be careful today, Ling. Don’t let your emotions get the better of you. Whatever happens, keep your cool.”
Ling nodded, her mind racing. She couldn’t shake the feeling that today was going to test her in ways she wasn’t ready for. Lingling paced along the edge of the artist section, her eyes scanning the crowd for any sign of Orm.
The noise was deafening—the cheers of fans, the chatter of participants, and the occasional burst of music from the event speakers. Despite the excitement, her mind remained preoccupied.
Where was she?
The place was packed, a sea of faces and colors making it nearly impossible to distinguish who was here and who wasn’t. Ling felt her heart twist, torn between frustration and worry. The anticipation of seeing Orm again, mixed with her unresolved feelings, made the wait unbearable.
Suddenly, a booming voice came through the speakers, drawing everyone’s attention.
“Ladies and gentlemen, to kick off the For Hearts tournament, please welcome a special performance by one of our own—Orm Kornnaphat Sethratanapong!”
Lingling froze, her breath catching in her throat. She turned toward the stage as the crowd erupted in cheers.
There she was.
Orm stepped onto the stage, dressed in a simple yet striking outfit—a fitted black jacket and sleek pants that highlighted her understated elegance. Her hair was loosely tied back, strands framing her face. But it wasn’t her appearance that struck Ling the most—it was how tired she looked.
Even under the stage lights, Ling could see the faint shadows under her eyes, the weight she seemed to carry in her posture. Yet, despite it all, Orm smiled at the crowd, her voice steady as she greeted them.
“Thank you, everyone, for being here today,” Orm said, her voice warm but tinged with a subtle weariness. “This song is special to me. I hope you’ll enjoy it as much as I’ve loved performing it.”
As the music began to play, Lingling’s heart ached. The song Orm chose was from the Only You tour—a ballad that had once been their shared memory, a piece of the bond they’d formed during those days.
The lyrics spoke of longing, of missed chances and unspoken words. Lingling watched as Orm poured her heart into every note, her voice clear and hauntingly beautiful. It warmed her heart to see Orm’s talent shining so brightly, but it also twisted something deep inside her.
She’s been carrying this alone for so long.
Ling’s gaze didn’t waver, her emotions swirling as the performance reached its crescendo. The crowd roared with applause as Orm finished, bowing graciously before stepping off the stage.
Lingling wanted to run to her, to say something—anything—but the crowd around her surged forward, fans cheering and clapping. She lost sight of Orm in the chaos, her heart pounding.
Where are you now, Orm?
Lingling stood frozen, the cheers around her fading into the background as her thoughts consumed her. But before she could go back looking for her, a hand grabbed her arm, stopping her in her tracks.
“Yo Kwong” says a woman, a voice she knows
Engfa, who was going the opposite way, who was accompanied Charlotte. Ling was still in her thoughts that she didn’t realize they were greeting her.
“Hey Engfa, Hey Char” she says
“It’s this way, teams are going to be announced” Engfa says
“You will find her later” interjects Charlotte, referring to Orm
Ling resigned to her idea to go fetch Orm and decided to follow them, they were right, she couldn’t miss on which team she will end up on.
Orm point of view
Orm stepped off the stage, the applause still ringing in her ears. The adrenaline that had carried her through the performance was already fading, replaced by the familiar weight of exhaustion. She smiled politely at a few event coordinators who congratulated her, but her focus was elsewhere.
As she made her way toward the dressing rooms, her thoughts lingered on a single moment: catching Ling’s gaze in the crowd.
She had spotted Ling almost immediately—her unmistakable silhouette standing still amidst the chaotic movement of the crowd. For a brief moment, their eyes had met, and Orm swore she saw something there. Something raw, vulnerable, and achingly familiar.
It was as if the song had spoken directly to Ling, just as Orm had hoped it would.
Orm shook her head, her footsteps quickening as she neared the dressing room. “Focus,” she muttered to herself. “There’s still the tournament to get through.”
Taking a deep breath, she grabbed her water bottle and headed for the exit. She had a team to meet, a game to play, and a world of emotions to keep at bay.
As she stepped out into the bright sunlight of the tournament grounds, her heart skipped a beat. In the distance, she saw Ling standing near the field, her focus elsewhere, she was with Engfa and Charlotte.
Orm clenched her jaw, forcing herself to look away. She had to stay grounded, but deep down, she knew that the battle she was about to face on the field was nothing compared to the one raging in her heart.
__________________________________________________________________
The loudspeaker crackled to life, and the excited buzz of the crowd settled as the event’s presenter, a charismatic TV host, stepped onto the stage at the center of the field. Dressed in a bold red blazer with the For Hearts logo emblazoned on the back, he flashed a wide smile and waved to the audience.
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the For Hearts Bangkok Tournament!” his voice boomed, earning an enthusiastic roar from the crowd. “Today, we’re not just playing for victory—we’re playing for unity, for fun, and for a cause that’s close to all our hearts. Are you ready to meet the teams?”
The crowd erupted in cheers, their excitement palpable.
The presenter held up a clipboard, theatrically adjusting his glasses for dramatic effect. “Alright, let’s get this show on the road! We’ve got three amazing teams today, each one filled with star power and athletic skill. Let’s see who’s playing where!”
Orm was scanning the entire group, she couldn’t believe how crowded it was, until her gaze stops on the presenter, the teams are out.
“Everyone! You may now come closer to see in which team you are. The first game will start in 20 minutes” announces the presenter, before everyone start rushing to the boards, while the presenter was calling out each name per team for those in the back.
Team 1: Blue Jerseys
- Lingling (Channel 3)
- Popor ( Sports Player)
- Sonya (Change 2561)
- Milk (GMMTV)
Team 2: Red Jerseys
- Orm (Channel 3)
- Kim (Change 2561)
- Panipak ( Sports Player)
- Love (GMMTV)
Team 3: Green Jerseys
- Nadech (Channel 3)
- Yaya (Channel 3)
- Sopita ( Sports Player)
- Tay (GMMTV)
Team 4: Yellow Jerseys
- Film (GMMTV)
- Namtan (GMMTV)
- Preem (Channel 3)
- Puripol ( Sports Player)
Referees: Engfa & Charlotte (Sangravee Entertainment)
Orm listened carefully, her name coming up in the second group. Team Red. That’s me.
“Orm Kornnaphat Sethratanapong!” the presenter called out enthusiastically. The crowd erupted again, and Orm raised a hand in acknowledgment, keeping her expression composed. She glanced at her teammates as their names were called: Kim, Panipak, Love, and Love. A solid mix of talent and charisma.
Her gaze naturally drifted toward the Blue Team announcement. Ling’s name was the first called. Orm felt a pang in her chest, quickly followed by unease when Popor’s name was announced next.
Ling and Popor on the same team? Are you kidding me?
Orm’s jaw tightened involuntarily. Even though she had no right to feel this way anymore, she couldn’t shake the protective instinct surging through her. Ling’s fiery temper was well-known, and given everything that had happened, this team pairing felt like a disaster waiting to happen.
Her thoughts spiraled until a sudden hand on her arm made her turn abruptly, fear flickering in her chest—until she saw Film standing there.
“Are you okay?” Film asked, her concern evident as she glanced between Orm and the field. She had noticed the same pairing and rushed over.
Orm’s voice was barely above a whisper, trembling with urgency. “Are they kidding me right now? I need to find her, Film. This is going to end badly.” Her chest tightened as the thought of Popor pushing Ling over the edge consumed her.
“I know,” Film said, scanning the crowd as well. “I can’t believe, after everything that’s happened with Popor these past few days, they’d actually put her on Ling’s team.”
Film stopped mid-search when she caught the sharp look Orm shot her way—an unmistakable flash of anger.
“What do you mean, ‘everything with Popor these past few days’?” Orm demanded, her tone low and dangerous. “Are you telling me people know? Why didn’t you tell me?” Her body tensed, and she could feel panic bubbling beneath her skin.
Film hesitated, guilt flickering across her face. “Because you already have enough on your plate, Orm. Namtan and I said we’d handle it—”
But Orm cut her off, raising a hand in frustration. “Stop! We’ll talk about this later,” she said firmly, pointing a finger in a gesture that Film knew all too well—it was Orm’s signal that her patience was hanging by a thread. “Help me find Ling. Now.”
Film nodded quickly, knowing better than to argue when Orm was like this. Together, they scanned the bustling grounds, their urgency growing by the second. But before they could take another step, the presenter’s voice boomed through the speakers, commanding everyone’s attention.
“Alright, teams, it’s time for the first game!” the presenter announced, his tone infectious as the crowd erupted into cheers. “Let’s welcome the first match-up: Team Red and Team Yellow!”
The crowd’s excitement was deafening, but Orm’s reaction cut through it like a knife.
“You have to be kidding me!” she shouted, her frustration spilling over in a dramatic outburst that startled those around her. The universe seemed determined to work against her today.
Film grabbed her arm, her voice calm but firm. “Come on, Orm. Let’s just play the game and get it over with. We’ll find Ling after, I promise.”
Reluctantly, Orm let Film drag her toward the field to join their respective teams. She didn’t have much of a choice. For now, all she could do was focus on the game—and pray that Ling and Popor wouldn’t clash before she could intervene.
Ling point of view
Lingling stood with Milk and Sonya, nodding absently as they talked strategy for the next game. But her attention was elsewhere, her mind spinning with everything Yaya had told her earlier about the rumors swirling in the industry.
And then she saw her.
Popor.
The mere sight of her was enough to send a wave of fury surging through Ling’s body. Popor stood at the edge of the field, laughing casually with another athlete as if nothing had happened—as if she hadn’t caused years of pain and confusion for Orm, for Ling herself.
Ling’s chest tightened, her fists clenching at her sides. Her vision narrowed, locking onto Popor like a predator to prey. Every memory of what Orm had confessed, of the lies Popor had spun, came crashing down on her all at once.
Before she realized it, she was moving.
Her steps quickened, her body surging forward as anger fueled her every motion. She didn’t care about the crowd, the cameras, or the event. The only thing that mattered was confronting the person who had hurt Orm so deeply—and by extension, hurt her too.
“Ling, where are you going?” Milk’s voice called after her, but it barely registered.
Her breath came in sharp bursts as she closed the distance between herself and Popor. The athlete turned just as Ling reached her, her smile faltering at the sight of Ling’s fury.
“What’s your problem?” Popor asked, her voice laced with feigned innocence, though her posture stiffened slightly.
Ling didn’t bother with pretense. “You know exactly what my problem is,” she snapped, her voice low but trembling with anger.
Popor’s smirk returned, though it lacked its usual confidence. “Oh, so this is about Orm, isn’t it? Still hung up on her, are we?”
The taunt sent Ling over the edge. She stepped closer, her voice rising. “Don’t you dare say her name like you didn’t destroy her life. Like you didn’t lie about everything for your own gain!”
Popor’s expression shifted into a defensive sneer. “Careful, P’Ling. You wouldn’t want to cause a scene, would you?”
Ling’s fists clenched, her entire body trembling with the effort to hold herself back. But the temptation to act, to do something—anything—was overwhelming.
Popor’s smirk deepened, her tone dripping with mockery. “What? Are you mad because I had her first? Is that it? Hate to break it to you, P’Ling, but she came to me willingly.”
The words hit like a slap, and Ling saw red. All the self-control she’d tried to summon evaporated in an instant. Without thinking, her fist shot forward, connecting squarely with Popor’s jaw. The force of the punch sent Popor stumbling back, shock and fury flashing across her face.
“You liar!” Ling shouted, her voice shaking with anger. “You didn’t have her—you tried to hurt her, and you think you can get away with it?”
Popor recovered quickly, rubbing her jaw before lunging forward. “You’ve got some nerve,” she spat, swinging back at Ling.
The two collided in a flurry of movement, shoving and grabbing as the surrounding crowd gasped and scrambled to intervene. Ling barely registered the voices around her, the chaos of the event fading into the background. All she could focus on was Popor—the lies, the pain, everything she represented.
Ling receives another punch from Popor right next to her eye which causes her to lose her grip on her a bit and she loses balance, Popor directly on her trying to throw more punches at her but couldn’t reached with Ling’s firsts keep aiming at her face and whispering out of anger at only her “ I’m gonna end you”.
“Ling, stop it!” Milk’s voice was distant but desperate as she tried to push through the growing circle of onlookers.
Film and Namtan were already sprinting toward the scene, their faces a mix of shock and determination.
“Ling, enough!” Orm’s voice cut through the commotion like a sharp blade, filled with urgency and panic.
Orm point of view
When Orm reached them, her heart nearly stopped. Ling was pinned under Popor, struggling fiercely as Popor tried to hold her down. Without hesitation, Orm lunged forward, grabbing Popor by the shoulders and pulling her off with a strength that surprised even herself. The momentum sent Popor stumbling backward, only for Film to step in, her firm push knocking Popor to the ground.
“That’s enough!” Orm shouted, her voice trembling with emotion. She stood between them, her arms outstretched protectively in front of Ling, who was now sitting on the ground, her breaths coming in sharp, uneven bursts. Orm’s eyes darted over Ling’s face, catching the dark bruise already forming beneath her eye.
Ling scrambled to her feet almost immediately, her fists still clenched, ready to charge at Popor again. But she froze as security arrived, grabbing Popor firmly by the arms and pulling her away.
Popor sneered as she was dragged off, her defiance cutting through the air. “You’ll regret this,” she spat, her glare fixed on Ling before disappearing into the crowd.
Orm turned to Ling, her voice soft but urgent. “Are you okay?” she asked, her hands hovering as if afraid to touch her.
Ling nodded, though her trembling hands betrayed her. “I’m fine,” she muttered, though her voice wavered with unspent adrenaline.
Before she could say another word, Orm gently but firmly grabbed her hands, intertwining their fingers. “Come on,” she said, her voice resolute. “We’re leaving. Now.”
Without waiting for a response, Orm led Ling away from the chaos, her grip unwavering. As they passed Film and Namtan, Orm didn’t slow her pace.
“I’m taking her out of here,” Orm said curtly, her tone brooking no argument.
Film and Namtan exchanged a brief glance before nodding, their focus shifting back to calming the crowd that had gathered.
As the noise of the event began to fade behind them, Orm tightened her grip on Ling’s hand, silently vowing to protect her no matter what.
Mae Koy and P’Mam stood near the edge of the crowd, their eyes glued to the big screens showing the commotion on the field. They had watched the fight unfold, their worry mounting with every second. Relief flooded them as they spotted Orm and Ling rushing toward them, Orm’s firm grip on Ling’s arm as she led her out of the chaos.
Both women hurried forward, their concern evident. Mae Koy’s voice broke through first, filled with urgency. “We need to get you both out of here—”
But Orm didn’t stop. Her pace was unyielding as she passed between them, her hand still gripping Ling’s arm. Her voice was firm, low but resolute. “Not now, Mum. I’m taking her to the locker room to tend to her wounds. Then we’re leaving.”
Her tone carried a sharp edge of anger, but Mae Koy immediately recognized it wasn’t directed at her. She paused, her heart aching as she watched her daughter’s protectiveness.
P’Mam exchanged a quick glance with Mae Koy before nodding in agreement. Turning to the nearby event coordinators, P’Mam’s voice carried authority. “Tell the organizers Ling and Orm are leaving due to injury. Handle the rest.”
Mae Koy followed closely as Orm led Ling toward the locker rooms, her mind racing with worry. She could see the tension in Orm’s shoulders, the way her hand trembled slightly despite her firm grip.
As they reached the quieter hallway leading to the locker rooms, Mae Koy hesitated, her voice softer now. “Orm, do you need—”
“I’ve got it,” Orm interrupted, her voice cracking slightly but still resolute. She glanced back briefly, her eyes filled with a mix of anger and determination. “Just make sure no one follows us please.”
Mae Koy nodded, stepping back. She watched as Orm and Ling disappeared into the locker room, her chest tightening with worry and a small measure of pride.
Orm closes the door behind her, she is still holding ti Ling, who hasn’t said a word yet. Orm sits her down on the bench before going to grab the first aid kit in the bathroom.
Ling point of view
Ling sat on the cold bench in the locker room, her breaths still uneven from the confrontation on the field. The adrenaline coursing through her veins hadn’t fully faded, but it was quickly being replaced by something else—a heavy tension that came from Orm.
Orm knelt in front of her, rummaging through a small first-aid kit that had been left in the locker room. Her movements were quick, efficient, but her hands trembled slightly as she opened a packet of antiseptic wipes.
“Stay still,” Orm said firmly, though her voice wavered. She dabbed the wipe gently on Ling’s bruised cheek, her jaw tight as she worked.
Ling winced but didn’t pull away. “Orm, I—”
“Don’t,” Orm interrupted, her tone sharper than she intended. Her hands froze for a moment before she continued cleaning Ling’s wound. “What were you thinking, Ling? Rushing at her like that? Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?”
Ling felt a lump rise in her throat, her chest tightening with an ache that was equal parts love and regret. Orm wasn’t just taking care of her physically; she was pouring all of herself into this moment, silently showing Ling just how much she still meant to her.
Ling blinked, startled by the anger in Orm’s voice. “She provoked me, Orm. She lied—again. I couldn’t just stand there and let her—”
“You could have gotten seriously hurt!” Orm cut her off, her voice rising slightly before she took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down. She placed the antiseptic wipe aside and gently cupped Ling’s chin, tilting her head to examine the bruise forming under her eye.
“You think I wasn’t afraid?” Orm continued, her voice quieter now, but no less intense. “When I saw her on top of you—when I saw you fighting her— I hate it to see you like that” she caresses her cheek
Ling’s breath caught in her throat at the gentle touch. But she could feel the fear radiating off Orm, the way her hands trembled slightly even as they moved with care. “Orm, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking...”
“No, you weren’t,” Orm said, shaking her head as she pulled back. She placed the first-aid supplies aside and sat down heavily on the bench next to Ling. Her voice softened, the anger giving way to raw vulnerability. “Do you know what that felt like? Watching you run straight into danger like that? After everything that’s happened?”
Ling lowered her gaze, guilt tightening her chest. She hadn’t thought about Orm in that moment—only about her own anger, her own need to confront Popor. “I didn’t mean to scare you,” she admitted quietly.
The weight of Orm’s words settled between them, heavy and unspoken. Ling felt her chest tighten further, the guilt mingling with something deeper—something that made her want to reach for Orm, to close the distance between them.
“I didn’t mean for it to get that far,” Ling said softly, her voice tinged with regret. “But when she said those things about you—about that night—I couldn’t hold back. I just... I couldn’t.”
Orm’s gaze softened, though the worry didn’t leave her eyes. She reached for Ling’s hand, intertwining their fingers. “I don’t care what she says. Her lies don’t matter to me anymore. All that matters is that you’re safe.”
Ling looked down at their joined hands, her heart pounding. She could feel the sincerity in Orm’s words, the way her touch grounded her in the chaos of the day. For the first time in what felt like forever, she let herself lean into that feeling.
“I’ll try to stay out of trouble,” Ling murmured, her lips twitching into the faintest smile. “For you.”
Orm let out a shaky breath, a small, reluctant smile breaking through her worry. “You better. I can’t keep dragging you out of fights, P’Ling.”
Ling chuckled softly, the tension between them easing just slightly. For a moment, they sat in silence, their hands still intertwined as the world outside the locker room faded away.
She let her eyes linger on Orm, tracing every detail of her face. The faint shadows under her eyes, the curve of her lips, the way her jaw tensed whenever her emotions got the better of her.
She’s beautiful. She’s everything.
“Thank you” whispers Ling
Her gaze dropped to their intertwined hands. Orm’s grip was steady now, firm and comforting, and Ling felt a warmth spread through her chest.
Orm point of view
Orm’s breath hitched, her resolve wavering. Say it. Do it. Show her.
“I...” Orm’s voice faltered, her throat dry. She reached up instinctively, her fingers brushing Ling’s hair back from her face. “I’m so sorry for everything.”
Ling’s lips parted, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Orm, you don’t have to—”
“I do,” Orm interrupted softly, her thumb gently grazing Ling’s cheek. Her hand lingered, her heart pounding as she looked at Ling—really looked at her. “You mean everything to me, Ling. I don’t know how else to say it, but I—”
The words caught in her throat, replaced by the overwhelming urge to close the distance between them. Her eyes dropped to Ling’s lips again, her heart screaming at her to take the chance.
I want to kiss her. I need to kiss her.
Orm leaned in slightly, her hand still resting against Ling’s cheek. She hesitated, her breathing shallow, her gaze locked onto Ling’s. She never kissed Ling outside of a role and she wanted it so badly for years now. She wanted to give Ling the chance to pull away, to stop this before it began.
But Ling didn’t move.
The space between them seemed to shrink to nothing, the world around them fading away. Orm’s voice was barely a whisper as she asked, “Can I?”
The silence stretched between them, heavy and expectant. Orm could feel her heart pounding so loudly it drowned out every other sound. Ling didn’t pull away. She didn’t even blink. Instead, she stayed perfectly still, her wide eyes locked onto Orm’s.
For a terrifying moment, Orm thought she’d made a mistake—thought she’d crossed a line she couldn’t uncross. But then, Ling’s lips parted slightly, a soft exhale escaping, and Orm swore she saw something flicker in her gaze.
Hope.
Ling nodded—barely, but it was enough. It sent a jolt through Orm’s chest, a mixture of relief and disbelief so powerful she almost forgot how to breathe.
Orm closed the remaining distance between them, her hand still cradling Ling’s cheek. Her lips brushed Ling’s with a gentleness that surprised even her—a tentative, feather-light touch that carried all the emotions she hadn’t been able to put into words.
The kiss was everything and nothing like she’d imagined. It was soft, hesitant, and filled with so much pent-up longing that Orm felt like she might break apart. For a moment, the world stopped, and all that existed was the warmth of Ling’s lips against hers.
When Ling kissed her back, it was like a floodgate opening. The hesitation melted away, replaced by something deeper, something more certain. Orm’s hand slid to the back of Ling’s neck, pulling her closer as the kiss deepened.
Her other hand rested on Ling’s knee, steadying herself as her emotions threatened to overwhelm her. She felt Ling’s hands come up, one settling on Orm’s arm, the other lightly gripping her waist, and it sent a shiver down Orm’s spine.
This is real. This is happening.
The kiss wasn’t rushed or frantic. It was slow, deliberate—a careful exploration of everything they’d held back for so long. Orm poured everything into it: her love, her regret, her promise that she would never let Ling go again.
When they finally broke apart, their foreheads rested together, both of them breathing heavily. Orm kept her eyes closed, afraid to open them and see doubt in Ling’s gaze. But when she did, she saw only softness, only Ling.
“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” Orm admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t know if I’d ever get the chance.”
Lingling smiled, a faint, wobbly smile that made Orm’s heart clench. “You’re so dramatic,” she teased, though her voice shook with emotion.
Orm chuckled softly, relief and happiness washing over her in equal measure. “Maybe. But I mean it. I love you, Ling. I never stopped.”
Ling’s hand tightened slightly on Orm’s arm, her smile fading as something deeper crossed her face. “Orm, I...”
But before she could finish, a soft knock came at the locker room door, shattering the moment.
Both women froze, their heads snapping toward the door as a familiar voice called out.
“Girls? Mae Koy and I are waiting outside. Is everything alright in there? We really need to leave” It was P’Mam, her tone laced with concern.
Orm let out a shaky breath, leaning back slightly but keeping her hand on Ling’s. “We should probably... go,” she said softly, her voice reluctant.
Ling nodded, though her gaze lingered on Orm’s, as if unwilling to break the fragile moment they’d just shared. “Yeah. We should.”
But then Orm hesitated, her grip on Ling’s hand tightening just slightly. Her voice, barely above a whisper, carried an edge of vulnerability. “I want to be with you tonight. I can’t let you go now.”
Ling’s eyes widened briefly, her breath catching at Orm’s words. There was no hesitation in her response, though. “Alright,” she said softly, her voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions inside her.
As they stood, Orm gave Ling’s hand one last squeeze before reluctantly letting go. She moved toward the door, bracing herself for the inevitable questions from P’Mam and Mae Koy. Taking a deep breath, she pulled the door open.
On the other side, P’Mam and Mae Koy stood waiting, their expressions a mix of relief and worry. Their gazes flickered between Orm and Ling, silently assessing them for signs of harm.
Orm stepped forward, meeting their concerned stares head-on. “We’re fine,” she said firmly, her voice carrying a quiet strength. Then, with a decisive edge, she added, “But tonight, we’ll stay at mine.”
P’Mam raised an eyebrow, a flicker of surprise crossing her face. Mae Koy, standing just behind, exchanged a glance with her, then gave Orm a small nod of approval.
“Alright,” Mae Koy said gently, her tone calm but knowing. “Let’s get going, then.”
The four of them made their way to the waiting van. The atmosphere was reminiscent of years ago, when moments like these had been routine—when Ling and Orm had been inseparable, Mae Koy and P’Mam always by their side, quietly supporting them.
As the van doors slid shut and the vehicle began to move, Orm found herself seated next to Ling, their hands brushing occasionally as the van jostled along the road. Neither spoke, but the silence between them felt less heavy now, less uncertain.
Orm leaned her head back against the seat, stealing a glance at Ling out of the corner of her eye. Ling was looking straight ahead, her expression calm but thoughtful, her hand resting on the seat between them.
For the first time in years, Orm allowed herself to believe that maybe—just maybe—things could be okay again.