You're the risk, I'm gonna take it

Film stormed into her bedroom, still fuming. She tossed her phone carelessly onto the bed and made a beeline for the bathroom, stripping off her clothes in a flurry of frustration. She turned the shower on, letting the cold water hit her skin, hoping to cool the anger that was bubbling in her chest. She breathed heavily, trying to calm her racing thoughts. Right, just irritation. She was just irritated, she told herself. Irritated because Namtan had another girl in her kitchen—someone who looked like they were about to kiss before Film walked in, irritated because Namtan hadn't even bothered to wait for her to have breakfast. Yes, she was irritated. She wasn't jealous. The idea of jealousy made her skin crawl, sending chills down her spine.

But everything from yesterday kept circling in her mind. Namtan had admitted she liked her—and yet today, there she was with another woman. Film thought she understood when Namtan explained that she couldn't like her because she respected Faye, but it still stung, deep down. She had accepted it, rationalized that she had no feelings for Namtan, but seeing her with another woman today had stirred something unexpected inside her. Even when she was with Faye, she had never felt this anger when Faye spoke to another woman. She had been secure in their relationship—Faye loved her, and only her. But with Namtan, it was different. They weren't together. Namtan hadn't given her any assurances. Seeing Namtan with another girl, so close to her, felt like betrayal, even though they weren't anything.

"She told me she liked me..." Film muttered bitterly under her breath, the words tasting like acid on her tongue. She stood in the shower, the shampoo still sitting in her hair, half-rinsed and forgotten as she seethed with frustration. Her breath came out in short, angry bursts, the hot water cascading down her back doing little to soothe the storm building inside her.

She exhaled sharply, slamming the bottle of shampoo back into the corner of the shower with enough force to make the plastic clink against the tiles. The sound echoed through the bathroom, sharp and accusing, just like her thoughts.

"She liked me, but she's being all sweet with some other girls?" The words came out in a strangled growl. She could feel her pulse hammering in her temples, the tightness in her chest growing with every passing second. What hurt the most wasn't just seeing Namtan with someone else—it was the realization that Namtan had chosen to be with others, even after everything she had said.

What stung even more was the bitter truth that Namtan could like other girls, could be close to them, and Film... Film had no claim, no right to stop it. The irritation flared up inside her, an uncontrollable fire that scorched every rational thought. Her chest tightened with a mix of anger and helplessness, a rage that burned hotter the longer she thought about it. She gritted her teeth, the frustration building until a sob lodged in her throat, threatening to break free.

No, I'm not jealous, why would I be, I didn't like her!  The voice in her mind tried to reason, but it only made the sting worse. The internal conflict swirled, like a battle she couldn't win.

"That bastard," she muttered, her voice thick with emotion, the words heavy with the weight of everything she couldn't say. The bitterness laced her words, making her throat feel tight as the heat of her jealousy twisted inside her like a burning knot.

A knock interrupted her thoughts. She ignored it at first, but the knock came again—louder this time, persistent. With a sigh, she finished her shower, grabbed a towel, and walked out of the bathroom, still wrapped in her robe.

When she opened the door, Namtan was standing there, her eyes avoiding Film's gaze. Film's pulse quickened, and her irritation flared. "What do you want?" she asked, her voice sharp.

"We're leaving in an hour," Namtan said quietly, still not looking at her.

"Leaving where?" Film asked, her brow furrowing.

"Going back to Manila," Namtan replied. "The jet's waiting. My work is waiting, and I still have to go to school."

Film scoffed. "Oh, you didn't think about that when you kidnapped me?" Her voice was almost rising.

Namtan pinched the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes in frustration. "No, I didn't think about that. I didn't think we'd be staying here for more than two days, and now I have to get back. I'm sure you do, too."

Film's eyes narrowed, her expression tense. "Is your girlfriend coming with us?" The question hung in the air, sharp and laced with something that wasn't just curiosity.

Namtan's gaze softened, and she exhaled slowly, her lips forming a small, apologetic smile. "I don't have a girlfriend," she said, her voice calm but carrying an unspoken weight. "And if you're referring to Oaey—no, she's not coming, and she's my friend. She was only here to tidy up, thinking I had already left. She's the granddaughter of my neighbor who's looking after this house when I'm gone.

Film's mind was still clouded with confusion, but the words didn't quite settle. She glanced at Namtan, her chest tight, her voice coming out a little harsher than she meant it to. "Why are you explaining yourself?" she muttered, irritation seeping into her tone.

"Because you're clearly upset about it," Namtan replied quietly, her gaze unwavering, soft yet insistent.

"I'm not upset!" Film snapped, her chest tightening painfully, her voice sharp with frustration.

"Maybe... jealous?" Namtan offered, her voice low but calm, almost like she was testing the waters.

Film's eyes widened, a flicker of disbelief flashing across her face. "Why would I be jealous?" she retorted quickly, defensive, her heart pounding a little too fast.

"I don't know, Film," Namtan's voice softened further, her words coming out with a gentle persistence. "Why are you so agitated then? You didn't even let me introduce her to you."

Film's irritation flared hotter. "Why would I want to know your future girlfriend?" she shot back, the familiar fire of jealousy rising in her chest as her mind replayed the image of Namtan with Oaey, their closeness still fresh in her mind. And then, just as she tried to push the thought away, the memory of what she'd walked in on made her stomach churn.

Namtan exhaled slowly, her eyes never leaving Film's. To Film's shock, Namtan stepped forward and gently cupped Film's face in her hands, her touch light yet firm. The gesture sent a jolt through Film's body, her breath catching in her throat as Namtan leaned in, her lips hovering inches from Film's.

"She's not my future girlfriend," Namtan whispered, her voice filled with sincerity, a deep warmth behind every word. "I wouldn't have a future girlfriend unless it was you."

The words hit Film like a tidal wave, knocking all the breath from her lungs. Her heart thudded painfully against her ribs, and she froze, unable to process what she'd just heard.

Namtan took a small step closer, closing the distance between them until the space between them felt like a fragile thread about to snap. Her hands rose slowly, cupping Film's face with a tenderness that sent a jolt through Film's chest. Her fingers were warm against Film's skin, grounding her, anchoring her in the moment.

"Film," Namtan began, her voice soft but steady, her gaze unwavering. "I realized something earlier."

Film's breath hitched, her pulse quickening as she searched Namtan's eyes, desperate to understand the emotions flickering there.

Namtan's voice dropped to a whisper, carrying the weight of her sincerity. "When you said you're not worth fighting for... that's not true. It's the furthest thing from the truth."

The words hung in the air, wrapping around Film like a blanket she didn't know she needed. Her throat tightened, and she struggled to speak, her voice lost amidst the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside her.

"You are worth it," Namtan continued, her thumbs brushing gently over Film's cheeks, as though she could erase the doubt etched there. "Every moment, every step, every fight. You are."

Film's lips parted, but no words came out. She was struck by the vulnerability in Namtan's expression, the raw honesty that seemed to bare her soul. Just moments ago, Film had felt so far away from her, so convinced that their worlds were destined to remain apart. But now, everything was shifting—like the ground beneath her was giving way, leading her to something deeper, something she couldn't ignore.

"I want to try," Namtan said, her voice trembling ever so slightly, but her determination unwavering. "I want to court you, Film. If you'll let me."

Her words were like a balm, soothing the ache Film hadn't even realized she was carrying. Then, so softly it was almost imperceptible, Namtan's lips brushed against hers. The touch was fleeting, a mere whisper of a kiss, but it sent a shiver racing down Film's spine, her entire body alight with the sensation.

The gentle touch left Film breathless, her chest rising and falling in uneven rhythm. Her heart raced, a surge of emotions threatening to overwhelm her. Before she could stop herself, before she could let doubt creep in, her hands moved on instinct.

Before Film could even fully comprehend the weight of Namtan's words, her hands acted on their own. Driven by a wave of pent-up desire and frustration, she grabbed Namtan's neck, pulling her in with an intensity she hadn't expected. Their lips collided in a kiss that was fierce, passionate, and electric, as if the world had fallen away. The kiss consumed them both, their bodies pressing closer, the heat between them undeniable.

Namtan responded instantly, her arms wrapping around Film's waist, pulling her flush against her. The kiss deepened, their movements urgent and unrestrained, as though they were trying to make up for all the moments they'd let slip by. The world around them seemed to fall away, leaving only the heat between them, the unspoken emotions spilling out in their embrace.

Film's heart pounded as her hands slid down to grip Namtan's shoulders, holding her close as if letting go wasn't an option. Every fiber of her being screamed to feel more, to close every inch of space between them, to lose herself in the warmth of Namtan's touch.

But just as quickly as it began, the kiss was interrupted.

Namtan's phone rang, a sharp reminder of the reality they were about to face, dragging them back to the world outside the bubble they had created. She pulled away, her breath ragged, eyes wide with a mix of disbelief and desire. "I... I need to take this," Namtan muttered, her voice still breathless, a hint of frustration and longing hanging in the air.

Film, still caught in the haze of the moment, her chest still rising and falling with rapid breaths, blushed deeply but nodded wordlessly. Her heart was still pounding in her chest, racing faster than she could comprehend. Namtan's thumb brushed gently against her cheek, a soft caress that sent another shiver down Film's spine before she fully pulled away to answer the call.

For a moment, Film remained motionless, standing in the doorway, the room charged with the tension they had just shared. Her mind was a whirlwind, thoughts tumbling over one another. She couldn't shake the feeling of Namtan's kiss, the taste of it lingering on her lips, and the warmth of her touch still burning against her skin.

When the call ended, Namtan returned to where Film stood, the space between them feeling both too vast and too fragile. Without hesitation, she stepped closer, her movements deliberate and filled with purpose.

Her eyes softened as they met Film's, and the storm of emotions swirling there seemed to quiet. Slowly, tenderly, Namtan reached out, her fingers brushing against Film's cheek before she leaned in. She pressed a soft kiss to Film's forehead, her lips lingering for just a moment longer than necessary. It wasn't just a kiss—it was a promise, an unspoken assurance meant to soothe the chaos that lingered between them.

Film closed her eyes at the touch, her breath catching as warmth spread from the spot where Namtan's lips had rested. It was gentle, intimate in a way that made her heart ache.

As Namtan pulled back just enough to look into Film's eyes again, her expression was filled with an earnest tenderness that made Film's chest tighten. "Please get ready," Namtan murmured, her voice soft but firm, carrying both urgency and care.

Film nodded, but before she could take a step, Namtan continued, her words drawing her back like a magnetic pull. "And, Film," she said, her voice dipping lower, filled with quiet intensity.

Film looked up, her gaze locking with Namtan's, the weight of the moment pressing between them.

"I meant everything I said," Namtan whispered, her tone steady, carrying the weight of her emotions. "Every single word. You don't have to say anything now, and I don't expect you to. But I want you to know..." She hesitated for a heartbeat, as though she was choosing her words with care. "I'll wait for you, no matter how long it takes."

The sincerity in her voice struck Film like a chord, resonating deep within her. She felt her throat tighten, her chest heavy with an emotion she couldn't yet put into words.

Film closed her eyes, leaning into the touch, her breath shaky. She nodded again, though her mind was still clouded, trying to piece together the whirlwind of emotions that had just consumed her.

When Namtan left, presumably to her room to gather her things, Film slowly closed the door behind her, finally allowing herself to exhale the breath she'd been holding in since the kiss. Her heart was still racing, her thoughts tangled in confusion and longing. She leaned against the door, eyes closed, holding her chest as if to still the frantic rhythm of her pulse.

What the hell happened? she asked herself again, her mind struggling to catch up with her heart.

---

The drive to the airport was quiet, but it wasn't uncomfortable. The tension between them had shifted—though the emotional whirlwind of the past days was still swirling beneath the surface, there was an unspoken sense of peace that had settled between them. Namtan kept her hand in Film's the entire way, and Film didn't pull away. She allowed Namtan to hold her, offering only a few words when necessary, her thoughts still trying to catch up to the torrent of emotions inside her. By the time they reached the plane, Film was still processing everything that had happened, yet she felt a strange sense of calm. When Namtan wrapped her arms around her and asked the stewardess to bring her breakfast—since she hadn't been able to get one earlier—Film let herself relax into the moment. The warmth of Namtan's touch, the tenderness in her concern, was soothing, and for a brief moment, it was as if the world outside didn't matter.

When the plane finally landed in Manila, Namtan turned to Film, a question in her eyes. "Are you going back to New York?" she asked, the uncertainty in her voice betraying the calm exterior she was trying to maintain.

To Namtan's surprise, Film looked up at her with quiet determination, her gaze steady. "Take me to your condo," she said, her words clear, as if a decision had already been made.

Film held her breath, waiting for Namtan's response. She saw the flicker of surprise in Namtan's eyes, followed by a mixture of relief and understanding. Namtan knew this was important—they needed to talk, to figure out what had happened between them.

"Okay," Namtan replied softly, her voice carrying a sense of resolution. She handed Film the keys to both her car and her condo. "Just wait for me there. I need to stop by the office first," she added apologetically, her gaze lingering on Film's face.

Film nodded, her fingers curling around the keys, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she felt a sense of clarity. She was taking the next step, however uncertain the path ahead might be.

As Film entered Namtan's condo, she was greeted by an unexpected surprise: a cat. It was sitting by the door, meowing and rubbing against her legs as soon as she stepped inside. Film laughed softly, crouching down to pet the cat, her irritation momentarily forgotten. She picked it up, smiling at its soft purring, and placed Namtan's car keys and condo key card on the counter. The condo was sleek and modern, with shiny appliances and minimalist furniture. The space was large but cozy, the kind of home that was clearly well-loved and meticulously cared for.

Film wandered around the living room, her eyes drifting over the expansive view from the large windows. The soft, golden afternoon light spilled into the room, casting a warm glow over the space. The cat, now contentedly curled up in her lap, purred softly as Film sank into the couch, still lost in her thoughts. The comfort of the space, the serenity of the moment—it felt surreal. Everything felt different now, yet somehow she couldn't shake the feeling that, despite the chaos of the past few days, she was exactly where she needed to be.

Her fingers traced absentmindedly over the cat's fur as her mind replayed the kiss she had shared with Namtan earlier. The intensity of it lingered, and she knew deep down that the inevitable conversation would come soon. They would talk—she couldn't avoid it forever—but she wasn't sure she was ready for it. She didn't know what to say, what to feel. There was still so much doubt in her heart. Was Namtan's confession real? Or was it just a moment of pity, maybe even guilt? Perhaps Namtan was just playing along with this newfound connection out of fear, afraid that Film would go through with her threats.

But Film knew one thing for sure: even if Namtan was playing her, she wouldn't go so far as to sue her. That wasn't who Namtan was. Film knew how much potential Namtan had—how much of a future she had ahead of her. Studying law, assisting Faye—those were all things that meant more to her than anything else. Despite being kidnapped, despite everything that had happened, Film couldn't bring herself to be the one to crush that future, even if it meant letting go of the uncertainty between them.

Still, Namtan's motives confused her. What did she truly want? Why had she confessed to liking Film? Film couldn't understand it. It was a murky situation, one that left her second-guessing everything. She was afraid to trust her. After all, the deeper she allowed herself to feel for Namtan, the more dangerous it became. The line between loyalty to Faye and the possibility of something real with Namtan seemed to blur, and Film was terrified of what might happen if it all fell apart. Would Namtan's loyalty to Faye be too strong for them to have anything genuine? Would that loyalty stand between them, creating a barrier neither could cross?

Film understood the risks all too well. The kiss they shared—intense, electric—had ignited something deep inside her. She felt herself losing control, slipping further into dangerous territory, unsure if she could pull herself back. The truth was undeniable—she was starting to like Namtan. Maybe more than that. A growing fear lingered, a fear that this feeling, whatever it was, could quickly evolve into something deeper, something beyond her grasp, something she couldn't manage.

The danger of falling for Namtan was painfully clear, but the pull to explore it, to see where this uncharted path might lead, was just as powerful. It was a whirlwind of emotions, terrifying yet irresistible. Film could feel herself being drawn into the storm, but she couldn't bring herself to fully surrender to it.

Torn and uncertain, she reached for her phone and dialed her manager, hoping for some clarity, some distraction from the overwhelming thoughts swirling in her mind.