Hidden in Plain Sight
Ling was already at her locker when she heard the softest steps behind her. She didn’t need to turn.
“You’re late,” she said, smirking.
Orm’s voice came low behind her ear.
“I didn’t know we had a meeting scheduled Captain.”
Ling leaned back just enough for their shoulders to touch. Her smile softened.
“Every morning we do.”
Orm stepped beside her now, hidden from most of the hallway traffic, her hand brushing Ling’s for the briefest second. No one would notice.
Except—
Junji, further down the hall, paused mid-sip of her iced coffee.
Brows narrowed.
Ling saw her. Junji raised an eyebrow. Ling looked away fast.
Orm leaned closer, lips near Ling’s temple.
“I missed you last night.”
Ling melted. Quietly. “You literally stayed with me on the phone until I passed out.”
“Still.”
The day had been long for both of them, and they didn’t get to see each other a lot on campus. The rumors louder. And both of them? Done pretending. They needed to claim each other, hidden from the eyes of others.
Ling found Orm first—half dressed in her practice gear, leaning against the back wall outside the Spirit Squad locker room, she was alone.
They hadn’t even said hello before Ling had her hands around Orm’s waist, lips pressed quick and desperate against hers.
Orm gasped, startled—but smiled into the kiss. “Easy, tiger.”
Ling growled. “I heard someone on the field say they’d give you a better ride than your chauffeur.”
Orm’s eyebrow arched. “That supposed to be sexy or offensive?”
Ling pressed her forehead to hers. “Both.”
Orm slipped her hand beneath Ling’s shirt—just enough to rest over her stomach, feeling LIng’s six pack abs that she craves to touch.
“I heard someone say you used to hook up behind the library,” she whispered. “And I almost told them to keep my girlfriend’s name out of their mouth.”
Ling blinked. “Girlfriend huh ?”
Orm blushed, but didn’t flinch.
“Yeah.”
Silence.
Then Ling kissed her again. Slower this time. Sweeter.
“Damn right girlfriend.”
They pulled apart when footsteps echoed nearby.
Kary’s voice: “Orm, let’s go—”
She appeared, then froze.
Ling stepped back fast.
Kary’s eyes narrowed. Mouth opened. Closed. She pointed at both of them.
“…You bitches.”
Orm straightened. “Say anything and you’re doing conditioning twice.”
Kary grinned. “Noted. But also? Finally.”
She walked off, muttering: “Junji owes me twenty bucks.”
Ling laughed softly, still breathless from the kiss. “Guess it’s official now.”
Orm shrugged, trying to act casual, but the blush on her cheeks betrayed her. “Was always official to me.”
They lingered in the quiet corridor, the hallway bathed in the fading golden light of late afternoon, footsteps long gone, but hearts still racing.
Ling ran a hand through her hair, smirking. “Don’t let me mess with your focus. I need you sharp out there. Wouldn’t want the squad dropping stunts just because their captain’s busy thinking about her girlfriend.”
Orm tilted her head, eyes glinting. “Please. I hit my highest jumps when you’re watching.”
Ling raised a brow. “Flirting with me or trying to psych me out before practice?”
“Both,” Orm said, smiling wide now.
Ling chuckled, then nodded toward the field. “You should go. Kary’s already losing it trying to wrangle everyone.”
Orm sighed dramatically. “She lives for the drama. But fine.”
She stepped in close again—just for a second—and pressed a final, gentle kiss to Ling’s lips. This one was soft, grounding. A quiet promise.
“Good practice, Captain,” she whispered, brushing her nose against Ling’s before pulling away.
Ling’s smirk melted into something softer. “You too, cheer queen.”
They hesitated, both reluctant to part.
Then Orm turned, jogged backward a few steps, keeping her eyes on Ling. “Text me after?”
Ling nodded, smile tugging at her lips. “I’ll call.”
Orm gave a mock eye-roll. “Clingy.”
“You love it.”
Orm spun around and jogged off down the hall, ponytail swaying, her giggle echoing faintly behind her.
Ling watched until she disappeared, her heart hammering against her ribs.
Girlfriend.
Yeah. Damn right.
And of course, Kary was the first to spill.
She burst into the Spirit Squad changing room, dropped her bag like it personally offended her, and flopped onto the bench beside Junji with a dramatic sigh.
“They were kissing behind the locker room.”
Junji didn’t look up from her phone. “Who?”
Kary gave her a look. “You know who.”
Junji paused, then slowly glanced over, feigning mild interest. “Define ‘kissing.’”
“Like… actual girlfriend kissing. Not a quick peck or some horny hallway makeout. It was soft. Hands in shirt. The whole tender, cinematic thing.”
Junji blinked, then let her lips curl into a slow grin. “Wow. That is news.”
Kary narrowed her eyes. “Wait a sec… you already knew, didn’t you?”
Junji gasped—dramatically, hand to chest. “Me? Know that our cheer captain and the football goddess are making out behind lockers? I would never withhold such crucial gossip.”
Kary kicked her shin lightly. “You owe me twenty.”
Junji smirked, finally locking her phone. “Fine. I’ll pay you in bubble tea.”
Kary huffed. “You’re the worst.”
Junji shrugged. “And yet, somehow, always right.”
Group Chat – ‘Riverbend Elite 💅🏽💥’
[Kary • 18:04]
Guess who’s officially unofficially together?
[Milk • 18:05]
no.
NO.
wait.
Ling and ORMMM????
[Junji • 18:05]
💅🏽
[Kary • 18:06]
Saw it with my own eyes.
Full wrist grab. Soft whisper.
Tongue optional.
[Milk • 18:06]
BRUH
my gaydar finally works 😭
I KNEW LING STOPPED HOOKING UP FOR A REASON
[Junji • 18:07]
Keep it quiet tho. They’don’t want people to know
[Kary • 18:08]
My lips are sealed.
(but my face is absolutely smirking all day tomorrow)
The afternoon sun draped itself across the field like honey—hot, thick, slow.
The Riverbend Raptors were already mid-warm-up, cleats hitting turf in rhythmic thunder as cones flew and drills snapped into motion.
Ling stood at the front, whistle hanging from her neck, arms crossed over her chest.
She looked every inch the quarterback.
Sharp. Focused. Commanding.
But her eyes?
They kept drifting.
Just a few yards away, the Spirit Squad flew into formation. Ponytails bouncing. Chants crisp. Tumbling drills tight.
And there she was.
Orm.
Mid-back handspring. Landed perfectly. Then up again, smile glowing like she wasn’t currently burning a hole through Ling’s chest every time their eyes met.
Ling didn’t smile. Didn’t wink.
But the slight smirk on her lips betrayed her.
“Focus, Captain,” Milk muttered beside her, elbowing her lightly. “Your girl’s killing it today. Don’t get distracted.”
Ling grunted. “Not my girl.”
“Oh my god,” Milk groaned. “You literally just growled when someone else said she looked hot in those shorts. That’s peak girlfriend behavior.”
Ling blew the whistle. “Back to sprints. Now.”
Milk just laughed and jogged off. “Jealousy suits you, Kwong!”
Across the field, Orm wiped sweat from her brow, eyes flicking back to the football team.
More specifically, to Ling.
She tried to focus on the routine—double stunt with a twist, land, flip, hold—but every time she came back down, her gaze snapped to the quarterback like it was instinct.
“God,” Kary muttered beside her. “Just make out at halftime already.”
Orm blinked. “Excuse me?”
“You’re vibrating. Like, visibly. If you stare at her one more time, I’m calling the school nurse.”
Orm rolled her eyes. “I’m focused.”
“Sure, sure. On her ass maybe.”
Orm flipped her off mid-tuck.
Kary only smirked. “Listen. I’m happy for you. But maybe try not to sprain your neck watching your girlfriend throw balls.”
Orm’s landing faltered slightly.
Kary gasped. “OH MY GOD you like when we call her that.”
“I’m gonna murder you.”
“You’re glowing, you little simp.”
Ling leaned over a cooler, dumping ice water down her neck. Her skin steamed under the sun, abs flexing, sweat glistening. Every girl on the Spirit Squad turned at least once.
Orm turned twice.
When their eyes met, Ling raised an eyebrow like she knew.
Orm walked past with a towel slung around her neck, whispering low as she passed:
“That was for me, wasn’t it?”
Ling didn’t even blink.
“Everything’s for you, my queen.”
Orm nearly tripped.
From behind them, Kary yelled, “NOTHING ABOUT THIS IS SUBTLE.”
The sun dipped lower. Shadows stretched long over the field.
Coach blew the final whistle for the football team. Ling barked out a few more orders, clapped a teammate on the back, and jogged over toward the bleachers.
From across the way, Orm signaled her squad to wrap, then dropped her pom-poms and crossed paths with Ling—just briefly.
A brush of shoulders. A brush of fingers.
Nobody saw.
Except everyone did.
Junji and Kary stood side by side, sipping their water and whispering like old ladies watching a telenovela.
“She touched her hand,” Junji said.
“She definitely did.”
“Orm’s blushing.”
“Ling’s smirking.”
“They’re gonna get caught.”
“They’re gonna combust.”
They high-fived.
Steam curled from the showers, jerseys were peeled off and tossed, and cleats clattered into cubbies.
Ling sat on the bench, toweling off her damp hair, trying not to smile at her phone screen where one lone message from Orm glowed:
[Orm • 5:14 PM]
“I can’t wait to kiss you senseless captain”
She bit back her grin.
Unfortunately — Milk saw it.
“Oh my GOD, you’re actually giggling.”
“I’m not giggling.”
“You’re soft, Captain. It’s disgusting.”
Junji dropped onto the bench beside Milk, snatching the phone from Ling’s hand before she could stop her. She read the message, eyes widening.
“Lingling Kwong,” Junji said, scandalized. “You’re flirting back. The player is officially played.”
Ling yanked her phone. “Give it.”
“Nope,” Milk said. “Not until you admit it.”
“Admit what?”
“That you’re whipped.”
Junji gasped. “You are. Look at you! You haven’t looked at another girl in weeks.”
Ling shot her a dry look. “I haven’t had time.”
“You’ve had plenty of time,” Milk said, tossing her towel into the bin. “You’ve just been busy staring at a certain cheer captain’s legs.”
Junji leaned close, chin in hand. “Is she as good with her mouth as you are on the field?”
“JUNJI!”
Junji cackled. “I’m just saying—if you wanna switch teams, you could’ve told us before we started shipping you in silence.”
Milk smirked. “So what’s the plan, Captain Lovergirl? Are you gonna stop acting all secret?”
Ling stood, pulling her hoodie over her head. “Not yet.”
Junji raised an eyebrow. “But you want to?”
Ling paused, then exhaled.
“…Yeah.”
The two girls exchanged a look.
Milk grinned. Junji winked. And neither said another word.
Orm sat at her locker, quietly toweling off her neck.
Kary, as always, was not quiet.
“I swear to GOD, Orm, just tell Tess already.”
Orm didn’t even look up. “No.”
“She’s my best friend.”
“She’s my flyer.”
“She’s also, like, the world’s biggest romantic. And she ships you and Ling harder than I’ve ever seen someone ship anything.”
Orm raised an eyebrow. “That’s exactly why I can’t tell her.”
Kary flopped onto the bench like she was dying. “You told me.”
“By accident!”
“You moaned her name in your sleep! That’s not an accident — that’s gay as hell! And it was during a fucking nap, not even deep sleep”
Orm groaned. “Kary.”
“Please? Just her? I need someone else to scream about this with. Junji is team Ling. I need team Orm support.”
“Absolutely not.”
Kary sat up, pouting like a child. “You’re ruining my life.”
Orm smirked. “Good.”
Kary narrowed her eyes. “I know things, Orm. I know where you keep your backup sports bras. I know your locker code. I know about your hidden emergency KitKat stash in the first aid drawer.”
Orm tossed her towel at her. “Blackmail isn’t love, Kary.”
“Neither is hiding your girlfriend from the squad!”
“She’s not my girlfriend.” she lied
“Oh my god, shut up,” Kary groaned, catching the towel and dramatically tossing it over her head like a shroud. “You say that, but you literally had stars in your eyes when she offered you a sip of her Gatorade last week.”
“That’s because I was dehydrated.”
“No,” Kary said flatly, pulling the towel down. “That was love. I’ve seen less eye contact in romcoms with full-on confessions.”
Orm sighed, leaning back against her locker. “We’re not telling people. Not yet.”
“Why?” Kary asked, genuinely now. “I mean—yeah, sure, it’s Riverbend, and the gossip here travels faster than the speed of light, but people love you. They’d love you together.”
“It’s not about what people love,” Orm said quietly, rubbing her hands over her thighs. “It’s about what we’re ready for. And right now? We’re not ready to be… ‘us’ out loud.”
Kary’s voice softened. “Is it about Ryan?”
“No,” Orm said quickly. Too quickly. “It’s about… everything.”
Kary didn’t push. Not this time.
She just stood, grabbed her duffel bag, and muttered as she walked toward the door:
“Well… when you are ready, I’m printing shirts. ‘Team Orm’ in rhinestones.”
Orm chuckled. “You’re ridiculous.”
Kary turned, grinning. “Yeah. But you love me.”
Orm rolled her eyes. “Unfortunately.”
____
The gym lights buzzed low.
Lockers clanged shut one by one, the sound echoing into silence as teammates trickled out. Showers ran. Towels snapped. The usual post-practice chaos mellowed into the soft hush of a school night winding down.
Ling adjusted the strap of her duffel bag, running a hand through her damp hair. Milk had already left, grumbling about sore calves and protein bars. Junji had kissed her cheek on the way out, whispering something like “Don’t get caught making out behind the bleachers again, superstar.”
Ling rolled her eyes, lips twitching with a smirk she couldn’t quite erase.
Across the lot, she spotted her car under the single flickering streetlight. Empty, but she knew where her queen was hiding.
On the other side of the parking lot, just tucked behind the edge of the practice building—Orm waited.
She leaned against the cool concrete, hoodie up, hair damp from her earlier shower. Her duffel sat at her feet, untouched. She could’ve gone home already. Could’ve called her driver. Could’ve pretended like she wasn’t waiting.
But she was. Because it was their thing now.
Ling drove her back.
Always.
No matter the day.
She heard the distant jingle of keys. Footsteps. Ling’s voice faintly calling goodbye to someone over her shoulder.
And then— Before Orm could step out from her hiding spot—
She felt it.
Arms.
Strong.
Warm.
Wrapping around her waist from behind.
She gasped quietly, smile blooming instinctively.
“Hey, cheer queen,” Ling murmured against her ear, voice low and rough from practice. “You were hiding?”
Orm didn’t turn around yet. She just leaned back into the touch, eyes fluttering shut for a second.
“Wasn’t hiding. I was waiting.”
Ling’s arms tightened. “For me?”
“Always for you.”
Silence stretched—soft and full.
Then Orm turned in Ling’s arms, facing her now, chin tilted up just slightly. The parking lot was mostly empty. The last bus had left. No one was watching.
Ling smiled down at her, fingers brushing Orm’s hips. “Rough day?”
Orm nodded. “Better now.”
Ling leaned in, resting her forehead against Orm’s. “Let’s get you home.”
Orm smiled, gentle. “Mmh” kissing ling tenderly “I missed your lips” she whispers, Ling, looks around before kissing her back tenderly.
They pulled apart just enough to walk, their shoulders brushing, hands almost touching—but not quite.
Not yet. And then, they drive off toward the only place that felt like peace. Each other.
The car ride home was soft as always.
Orm sat in the passenger seat, her legs curled slightly, one hand resting on Ling’s lap, fingers brushing every so often. The windows were cracked open just enough to let in the breeze, the scent of night air and distant jasmine floating through.
Ling was humming quietly—something Orm didn’t recognize but wanted to remember. It made her chest ache in that good way.
Everything felt… right.
Until—
She felt it before she saw it.
Orm, beside her, went still.
A beat. Then—
“Wait,” Orm said, voice low.
Ling followed her line of sight.
And there he was.
Mr. Kornnaphat.
Sharp suit. Sharp jaw. Cold eyes that didn’t need to speak to control a room. He stood just behind the open gate, hands folded neatly in front of him. Regal. Unmoving.
Beside him—Harley.The family bodyguard. Tall, silent, dangerous in the way only well-trained men could be.
Ling instinctively took half a step in front of Orm, like a reflex she didn’t realize she had.
But Orm’s hand reached out, soft and quick, grabbing her wrist.
“No,” she whispered. “It’s okay.”
“You sure?” Ling asked, her voice steady, but her eyes scanning Harley like she could take him down if needed.
Orm offered a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
“Yeah,” she said. “He’s just… early.”
Ling didn’t believe her. But she also knew better than to press.
So she nodded, slow. “You want me to wait? Do you want to stay at mine?”
Orm shook her head.
“I’ll be fine,” she said, with a calmness so practiced, it was almost a mask.
But Ling knew better now. She saw the way Orm’s fingers had gone cold.
They stood like that for a second too long. In their own bubble. Just out of reach from the man who waited to remind Orm of her place.
Then—
“I’ll text you,” Orm said, already pulling back. “Tell Leo I said hi.”
Ling didn’t stop her.
Didn’t kiss her.
Didn’t hold her tighter.
Just whispered, “Call me if you need anything.”
Orm nodded, then turned, her spine straight, steps fluid, not a single crack in her armor.
As she crossed the gate and approached her father, she greeted him with a soft, practiced tone.
“Father. I didn’t know you’d be waiting.”
“Clearly,” he said, his eyes flicking once—barely—to where Ling had been standing.
But Orm didn’t flinch.
Harley gave her a quiet nod, respectful.
“Come inside,” Mr. Kornnaphat said. “We have things to discuss.”
Orm followed without a word.
And behind her, Ling stood frozen in the fading light, watching the only person who made her feel whole disappear into a house that had always tried to keep her caged.
The double doors shut behind her with a quiet, deliberate click.
The air inside was cool. Almost clinical.
Orm’s shoes made no sound on the polished marble floor as she followed her father’s tall frame into the main sitting room—everything in its place, untouched, like no one actually lived here.
Only Harley followed.
Silently posted himself near the far window like a shadow on call.
Mr. Kornnaphat stopped beside the grand piano. Turned.
“Sit.”
Orm didn’t.
“I’m fine standing.”
He arched a brow, unimpressed. “Defiance doesn’t suit you, Orm.”
She pressed her lips into a thin smile. “Neither do unexpected interrogations, but here we are.”
His eyes narrowed slightly, the only sign of irritation. “You’ve missed four galas in three months.”
“I’ve been busy.”
“With cheerleading?”
“With school. Midterms. You know—things that matter.”
He stepped closer. The tension in the room grew like ice forming on glass.
“You always attended, Orm. Without question. Since you were twelve. You knew the people there. You represented this family. You understood that we are more than a name—we are a legacy. And you knew your place.”
Orm didn’t flinch. But she felt her fingernails digging into the skin of her palm.
“I don’t remember signing a contract saying I had to play princess for your friends until I die.”
“That girl,” her father said, voice suddenly sharp. “The one who drops you off.”
Silence.
“Is she the reason? Why now you back up?”
Orm’s heart thudded once. Loud. Then again. But her face? Still.
She said nothing.
“She’s not like us,” he continued. “Not in name. Not in family. Not in… resources.”
Orm lifted her chin. “You don’t know her.”
“I don’t have to.”
“She’s smart. Brave. She’s—”
“—not part of this world, Orm,” he cut in. “And dragging her into it is irresponsible. For her. And for you. You know our world crush people like her”
“I’m not dragging her anywhere,” Orm said, a quiet steel lining her voice now. “She’s not weak. And yes dad, don’t worry I know how rotten our world is thank you”
“She’s a distraction,” he snapped. “And one I suspect you’ve allowed to take far too much of your time.”
Orm’s fists clenched. “She’s not a distraction. She’s the only reason I haven’t lost my mind in this museum you call a home.”
Her voice didn’t rise. But it cracked—barely. Enough.
Her father’s eyes bored into hers.
Then… his tone shifted. Calculated. Cold. “Do you understand the damage you could do? To our image? To my name?”
“I don’t want your name,” Orm whispered.
That stopped him.
Harley looked down, politely avoiding the moment.
“I want my name,” Orm said. “And I want hers in it.”
A long silence.
Mr. Kornnaphat stepped forward—close enough to make the air feel thin.
“You’re young. You think this is love. But it’s not. It’s rebellion. Infatuation. It’ll fade”
Orm’s voice dropped.
“I hope to god it never does.”
Something flickered in his eyes then. Not pain. Not regret. Control faltering.
Briefly.
Then his mask returned.
“You will attend the next gala. No more missing events. No more lingering by gates at night.” His voice was like ice.
And then, as if final:
“You know how this works, Orm. Appearances come first. Business comes first”
She stared at him. Something burning behind her eyes.
Then—calmly, coolly, without flinching—
“Then maybe I don’t belong here.”
He didn’t respond.
He didn’t have to. He turned and walked out, leaving her standing in the silent, cavernous room.
Orm didn’t move.
Not for a long time.
Then—her fingers curled around her phone. And she texted only one person.
[20:53] Orm:
Still breathing.
Can I come over?
_______
The apartment was dim and quiet, the only light coming from the kitchen where Ling stood barefoot, sleeves rolled, drying the last of the dishes from dinner.
The scent of tomato sauce still lingered faintly in the air—leftover from Leo’s request for spaghetti "with way too much cheese," as he'd put it.
From the living room came the soft murmur of cartoons playing at a low volume. Leo was sprawled across the couch in his pajamas, blanket over his legs, thumb lazily tracing the corner of his stuffed tiger’s ear.
He was fighting sleep, eyes heavy, but not ready to let go.
“Brush your teeth before you pass out, bug,” Ling called gently, not turning from the sink.
“I’m not tired,” Leo mumbled.
“You’re literally sliding off the couch in slow motion.”
He groaned dramatically, but his feet hit the floor anyway, padding toward the bathroom.
Ling smiled, shaking her head.
She wiped her hands, tossing the dish towel over the counter before stepping into the living room and straightening up the cushions. Her body was tired—practice had pushed her to the limit today—but her mind?
It was still tangled in worry.
She hadn’t heard from Orm. Not since that moment outside the estate. Not since her soft “I’ll be fine.”
And that scared her.
She sat on the edge of the couch, glancing toward the hallway where Leo was brushing his teeth (very noisily), then reached for her phone.
Nothing.
She scrolled, rereading their messages from earlier like they might anchor her in place.
Orm’s voice echoed in her memory—
“If anything happens… just tell me.”
“I’ll handle it.”
But what if she was the one who needed someone to handle it for her?
Ling didn’t realize she was gripping the phone a little too tightly until—
Buzz.
Her heart jumped.
A message lit up the screen.
[20:53] Orm:
Still breathing.
Can I come over?
Ling stared at it for a second. Then two.
Her chest unclenched.
And she typed back with a smile that bloomed too fast to stop.
[20:54] Ling:
Door’s already unlocked.
I made soup. Leo’s awake. You okay?
Three dots.
Then:
[20:55] Orm:
No.
But I will be when I see you. I’m on my way.
Ling stood slowly, heart full, tired eyes soft.
She called down the hall, “Leo? Guess who’s coming over?”
Leo’s voice, muffled and excited: “ORM?!”
Ling smiled. Warm. Real.
The kind of smile that reminded her—No matter how cold Orm’s world got,
This was waiting for her here.
Always.
______________
It was barely fifteen minutes later when the knock came.
Not urgent. Not loud. Just… there.
Like Orm didn’t want to intrude, even now. Even after all these weeks.
Ling didn’t hesitate. She was already halfway to the door, hoodie sleeves pushed up, socks skimming the tiles.
She opened it fast.
And there she was.
Orm.
Hair a little wind-blown. Hoodie a size too big. Her bag slung low on her shoulder. She didn’t say anything—just stood there, eyes a little glassy, like she hadn’t let herself breathe all day.
Ling reached out.
No words.
Just arms pulling her inside.
The door clicked shut behind them. And in that quiet moment, Orm buried her face in Ling’s neck,breathing in her delicious scent. Let out a breath that sounded like a crack.
“You’re okay,” Ling whispered into her hair.
Orm nodded. “You were right. He knows something. Or suspects. He said things I wish I could forget.”
Ling held her tighter.
“He didn’t touch you, right?”
“No,” Orm said softly. “But it’s not me I’m scared for.”
They stayed like that for a minute.
Then—
“ORM!”
Leo flew down the hallway in mismatched pajamas, hair still damp from his shower, eyes bright.
Orm knelt just in time to catch him.
He wrapped his arms around her neck like it had been months instead of hours.
“I missed you,” he mumbled into her shoulder.
Orm hugged him back, eyes finally softening. “I missed you too, bug.”
“You’re cold,” he frowned. “You didn’t wear your scarf again.”
Ling chuckled from the kitchen. “She never wears it, no matter how many times I tell her to.”
Orm looked up at Ling, smile tugging faintly at the corners of her mouth. “I like it better when you warm me up.”
Leo made a gagging noise and Orm laughed—real, warm, the kind that shook off the chill she still carried.
Ling walked over, holding out a bowl of soup. “Sit. Eat. No rich people arguments allowed at this table.”
Orm sat cross-legged on the couch, Leo curled beside her like he belonged there.
Because he did.
Because she did.
Ling joined them a second later, handing Orm a spoon and tucking a blanket over both her and Leo like it was the most natural thing in the world.
They ate in quiet.
Watched cartoons.
Let the evening slow down.
And when Leo finally drifted off, head in Orm’s lap, Ling sat on the floor in front of them, resting her head against Orm’s knee.
“Stay tonight?” she asked.
Orm looked at her, eyes heavy but sure.
“I was hoping you’d ask.”
Leo had long stopped protesting.
His tiny form had melted into Orm’s lap, cheek pressed against her thigh, one hand loosely holding onto the edge of her hoodie like it was his anchor in the dream world.
His breathing was soft. Steady.
Ling brushed a hand over his hair, whispering, “Okay, let’s get him to bed.”
Orm nodded, gently lifting her legs as Ling leaned down. She scooped Leo into her arms in one fluid motion, careful not to wake him.
He murmured something about superheroes again.
Orm smiled faintly. “He thinks you’re one.”
Ling glanced over her shoulder, eyes soft. “I’m just his big sister.”
“No,” Orm said quietly, “you’re his whole world.”
Ling didn’t reply. She just turned and carried Leo down the hall, the small weight of her brother so familiar in her arms, it was almost like breathing.
The bedroom door creaked open, then closed again.
When she returned, the living room was quiet, the cartoons paused, the bowl of soup empty on the table. Orm was sitting cross-legged under the blanket, her hands folded tightly in her lap.
Ling padded back to the couch and dropped beside her.
“Hey,” she said softly.
Orm didn’t look up right away. Just said:
“My father’s making me go.”
Ling’s heart dipped.
“To the next gala?” she asked.
Orm nodded. “He said missing four in a row was bad enough. This time it’s non-negotiable.”
Ling didn’t speak. She didn’t have to.
“And he made it clear,” Orm added, voice sharp around the edges. “If I show up without Ryan, people will start talking.”
Ling’s fingers curled into the blanket.
She hated that name.
That presence.
That smug, always-there-at-the-worst-moment reminder of the world Orm came from—the world that didn’t deserve her.
Orm looked at her now.
“I don’t want to go,” she said, voice barely above a whisper. “And I hate even more that he’s… making me think I have to.”
Ling exhaled slowly. “Do you?”
“I don’t know,” Orm admitted, her voice trembling just slightly. “Part of me wants to scream no. To walk away. But it’s not just about me. It’s my mother. It’s the expectations. The headlines. The way everything I do has a consequence I didn’t ask for.”
Ling shifted, reaching over to take Orm’s hand gently in hers.
She didn’t squeeze.
Just held it.
“I hate him,” Ling said, quietly but clearly. “I know I shouldn’t say that about your dad, but I do. Because he doesn’t see you. He sees a version of you he can mold.”
Orm’s throat worked. “He said Ryan’s ‘legacy material.’ That being seen with him benefits the Kornnaphat name.”
Ling’s jaw clenched. “You’re not a trophy. You’re not some asset for his business chessboard.”
“I know,” Orm said softly. “But sometimes it feels like… no matter how far I run, that world’s always waiting to pull me back.”
Ling turned toward her fully, pulling one leg under her, their knees now touching.
“You’re here now,” she said. “You’re with me.”
Orm looked at her, really looked.
“And you still want me,” she whispered. “Even with all this?”
Ling didn’t hesitate.
“Especially with all this.”
A silence fell between them—warm, but full.
And then Ling added, voice low and sure:
“But if I see Ryan try to put his arm around you one more time, I will break his jaw. Publicly.”
That earned her a smile. A real one.
Orm leaned forward, forehead pressed to Ling’s.
“You’d really do that?”
“Baby,” Ling whispered, brushing her thumb across Orm’s cheek. “I’ve tackled women twice your size for less.”
Orm laughed softly, that laugh she only gave when she felt safe.
She pressed a slow, grateful kiss to Ling’s lips, then let her head drop against her shoulder.
“I’m tired.”
“Sleep,” Ling murmured, wrapping her arms around her. “I’ve got you.”
And that was it.
No big resolution.
No answers.
Just them.
Tucked into the couch, wrapped in each other, letting the world fall away for one more night.
Because tomorrow? The galas would come.
The expectations.
The lies.
But for now—All Orm could hear was Ling’s heartbeat beneath her cheek.
And all Ling could feel was Orm’s breath, slow and steady against her neck.
The blanket had slipped off Orm’s shoulder, exposing the curve of her neck where Ling’s lips had just barely brushed minutes before.
Ling adjusted it gently, tucking it around her again.
“Thanks,” Orm mumbled, eyes still closed.
Ling smiled faintly. “For what?”
“For soup. And cartoons. And letting me exist like this.”
Ling leaned her head back on the couch cushion beside her, eyes tracing the lines of Orm’s face—the high cheekbones softened by sleepiness, the faint smudge of eyeliner she hadn’t taken off yet.
“You don’t need permission to exist here,” Ling said quietly. “You just… do.”
Orm’s fingers found Ling’s beneath the blanket, curling slowly around them. “Even if I have to put on a dress and smile next to Ryan in four days?”
Ling didn’t answer right away.
She stared at the ceiling, breathing deep, steady.
Then:
“As long as you come back here and let me take it off.”
Orm opened her eyes. Just a sliver.
A slow, soft smirk tugged at her lips. “You’re so hot when you’re possessive.”
Ling huffed a laugh, but it was low. Real. Tired.
“I just hate knowing the world sees you and thinks you belong next to him.”
Orm shifted, pressing her body closer, head against Ling’s collarbone now.
“I don’t,” she whispered. “I belong here.”
Ling kissed the top of her head. “Yeah. You do.”
They didn’t say anything else for a long while.
Just let the quiet fill the spaces that once held fear.
Until Orm whispered:
“Promise me something?”
Ling turned her head toward her.
“Anything.”
Orm lifted her eyes. They were glassy, but steady.
“If I fall—if this all falls apart—don’t let me forget what this felt like.”
Ling reached up, cupped Orm’s face, and kissed her softly.
“I won’t let you fall.”
And when they finally drifted to sleep—cocooned in blanket, in warmth, in them—the world stayed outside the apartment door.
For now.