Running Ends Here

By late afternoon, Film stood at the entrance of Namtan's apartment building, her heart pounding as she gazed up at the imposing glass façade. The sleek, modern structure loomed above her, reflecting the fading light of the day. This was it—the moment she had both dreaded and longed for. A mixture of hope and fear tightened her chest, making it difficult to breathe. She took a deep, steadying breath, wiped her clammy hands on her jeans, and pushed the door open.

The cool, sterile atmosphere of the lobby was a stark contrast to the storm of emotions raging inside her. The clean lines and minimalist décor of the space offered no comfort. Film kept her head down as she walked briskly toward the elevator, each step echoing in her mind like a countdown.

When the elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, she stepped inside, exhaling slowly. As the car began its quiet ascent, the hum of the machinery was the only sound accompanying her racing thoughts. Her heart beat faster with every floor passed, and by the time the elevator reached its destination, she found herself hesitating for a brief moment before stepping out.

Gathering every ounce of courage she had, Film walked up to the familiar door and knocked. The sound was soft, tentative, as if afraid to break the silence of the hallway. Moments later, she heard the faint click of the lock and the door creaking open.

"Oh, hey!" Claire greeted, blinking in surprise. "I didn't know you were coming."

Film forced a nervous smile, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Yeah, sorry for the sudden visit. Namtan asked me to come. Is she here?"

Claire tilted her head, still a little confused. "She's wrapping up a meeting at the office, but she should be back soon. Want me to text her and let her know you're here?"

Film shook her head quickly, feeling a lump rise in her throat. "No, it's fine. I'll just wait, if that's okay."

Claire smiled warmly, stepping aside to let Film in. "Of course, it's fine. Come on in. And hey—thank you for taking care of her last night. She really needed someone."

Film's lips twitched into a shy smile, and she gave a slight nod as she stepped inside. The apartment was cozy, with soft lighting and warm-toned furniture that contrasted with the cold exterior of the building. Claire gestured toward the living room.

"Have a seat. I was just getting ready to head out to another fashion show in about fifteen minutes. Are you okay to wait here alone?"

The question caught Film off guard. She hesitated before nodding. "Yeah, sure. That's fine."

Claire grabbed her pouch from the table, pausing briefly to glance at Film. "Make yourself at home, okay? For sure Namtan will be here in a short while. If you need anything, just help yourself."

Film offered a polite nod. "Thanks."

Not long after, Claire re-emerged from her room, dressed in a chic outfit that seemed perfect for the event. She waved goodbye with a bright smile. "Okay, I'm off! Lock the door behind me when I go."

"Got it. Thanks, Claire."

As soon as the door clicked shut, Film turned the lock, exhaling the breath she didn't realize she had been holding. The silence of the apartment pressed in on her, amplifying the anxiety simmering beneath her cool exterior. She wandered over to the kitchen, hoping to find something to eat, but after a quick search, she didn't spot anything that caught her eye.

With a sigh, she pulled out her phone and facetimed Kiera. It only rang once before Kiera picked up, her voice bright and teasing.

Kiera: "Well, well, if it isn't the elusive Film Rachanun. To what do I owe the honor?"

Film: (rolling her eyes but smiling slightly) "Hey, Kiera. I need your help."

Kiera: "Uh-oh. This sounds serious. What's up?"

Film: "I'm at Namtan's place right now."

Kiera: (mock gasp) "Wait, what? You're at her apartment? Alone? Oh, this is getting good. Spill."

Film: (groaning) "It's not like that. She's still at work, and I'm waiting for her. Claire just left for some event."

Kiera: "Okay, okay. So, what's the problem?"

Film: "There's nothing to eat here, and I didn't bring anything. I don't want to rummage through their stuff, but Namtan's been sick, and I'm not sure what kind of food to order or prepare that she can eat too."

Kiera: (laughing) "Aww, look at you—total girlfriend material."

Film: "I'm serious, Kiera. Should I order something? What if she doesn't like it?"

Kiera: "Relax. Go for something light, like soup or salad. She probably still doesn't have much of an appetite. Nothing too heavy—you'll look thoughtful, and it'll be easier for her to eat."

Film: (pausing) "Good idea. Soup sounds safe."

Kiera: "See? You're in good hands. Anything else you want advice on? Like how not to make things awkward when she walks in?"

Film: (smiling despite herself) "No, thanks. I think I can handle that."

Kiera: "Sure you can. Just remember, deep breaths, don't overthink it, and try not to look too desperate."

Film: "You're impossible."

Kiera: (grinning through the phone) "That's why you love me. Good luck, Film. You'll be fine. Call me if things get too weird."

Film: "Thanks. I'll let you know how it goes."

As the call ended, Film felt a little more at ease. She quickly placed an order for soup and sat down on the sofa, her mind racing as she tried to prepare herself for the conversation to come.

---

By the time Namtan arrived home, the sun had dipped below the skyline, casting a warm amber glow through the apartment windows. She unlocked the door and pushed it open with a tired sigh, the weight of the day pressing heavily on her shoulders. It had been a long, grueling day that left her drained and craving nothing more than the comfort of a hot shower and the quiet embrace of her bed.

But the sight before her made her freeze mid-step.

Film.

For a moment, Namtan thought her tired mind might be playing tricks on her. She had invited Film over, but she never truly expected her to come. Film was always so busy, wrapped up in her demanding work and endless responsibilities. Honestly, Namtan figured the request to talk had just been a fleeting impulse—something Film said because she caught Namtan in a vulnerable moment. Maybe Film would send a polite message saying she couldn't make it, and that would be the end of it.

But here she was.

Standing in Namtan's apartment, as if those two months of silence had never happened.

The sight stirred a flood of emotions in Namtan—surprise, disbelief, and something far more complicated. When she extended the invitation, she hadn't known exactly what she wanted. Maybe she hoped for closure, or maybe she longed to fill the void that had grown during those quiet, lonely nights. But now that Film was actually here, standing right in front of her, Namtan couldn't tell if she felt relieved or uneasy.

Film stood up from the sofa as soon as she heard the door open. She looked slightly nervous, holding a bowl of soup in one hand and a spoon in the other. The aroma of freshly delivered food filled the air, warm and inviting. Yet, despite the cozy scene, there was a tension hanging in the room, thick and palpable.

Their eyes met, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. There were so many things Namtan wanted to say, but the words caught in her throat. Seeing Film again brought back the pain she had been trying to keep to herself—the pain she thought time might heal, though it never really had.

For all her surprise, a part of Namtan couldn't help but notice how familiar Film looked, even after all this time. There was something different too—a subtle hesitation in her movements, a quiet uncertainty. Film had always been the confident one, the one who seemed to have everything figured out. But now, she seemed... unsure.

Still, it was Film. And despite everything, that meant something.

Silence stretched between them—not empty, but thick with the weight of unspoken words. Namtan wanted to ask why she had come, to demand an explanation for the two months of nothing. But more than that, she wanted to close the distance, to reach out and touch something real.

The sunlight faded into darkness, leaving only the soft glow of the apartment lights. Yet in the stillness of that moment, something stirred—a flicker of hope, fragile but unmistakably present.

Film shifted slightly, her voice soft and uncertain. "I... wasn't sure if you really wanted me to come."

Namtan swallowed hard, forcing a small smile to mask the storm rising inside her. "I wasn't sure either," she admitted quietly. "But... I'm glad you did."

"Yeah, um," Film said softly, setting the bowl down on the table. "I thought you might be hungry, so I got you some soup."

Namtan blinked, surprised. "You... ordered food?"

Film scratched the back of her neck, looking a little embarrassed. "Yeah. I didn't want to dig through your kitchen. Claire went out, and I figured you probably hadn't eaten after work, so I thought... soup might be good."

A faint smile tugged at the corners of Namtan's lips as she set her bag down by the door. "You didn't have to do that."

"I wanted to," Film said quietly, her voice a little steadier now. "I even called my manager to ask what kind of food would be good for you. She suggested soup, so..."

Namtan stepped closer, the exhaustion momentarily forgotten. "Your manager, huh?" she said, teasing lightly. "Thank you. I mean it." She glanced at the bowl. "It actually smells really good. I didn't eat much today, so... this is perfect."

Film relaxed slightly, relieved that her small gesture hadn't gone unnoticed. "Sit down. I'll get you some water."

Namtan did as she was told, sinking into a chair while Film disappeared into the kitchen. Moments later, she returned with a glass of water, setting it down in front of her.

"Eat," Film urged gently, settling into the chair across from her. "You need to keep your strength up."

Namtan took a few sips of the warm soup, feeling a little better with each spoonful. For a while, the silence between them was comfortable—soothing, even. But soon, it grew heavier, thick with everything left unsaid.

Film fidgeted slightly, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass. She stole glances at Namtan, as if debating whether to speak.

Namtan noticed and set her spoon down. "You should eat too," she said softly, her tired eyes meeting Film's.

Film blinked, momentarily caught off guard. Then, with a small, almost sheepish smile, she nodded. "Alright," she murmured, reaching for her own bowl.

As they ate in quiet companionship, the weight between them remained, unspoken but undeniable.

Finally, Namtan broke the silence, her voice tentative. "You said you wanted to talk. About... what happened."

Film straightened, her heart pounding painfully in her chest. "Yeah. About that. I—" She paused, running a hand through her hair, clearly struggling with her words. "I didn't mean to just disappear like that. It wasn't fair to you. I was—" She stopped herself, exhaling shakily. "I was scared, Namtan. Things between us got too real, too fast, and I didn't know how to handle it."

Namtan set the spoon down, her expression unreadable. "You told me you never wanted to see me again. That you hated me... and that you were still in love with Faye." Her voice dropped to a whisper, each word laced with quiet pain.

"I know," Film said quickly, regret thick in her voice. She hesitated, her gaze shifting away before she spoke again, softer this time. "But that was a lie."

She swallowed hard, as if bracing herself. "That morning... I snuck into your room and saw the photos—those ones of you with Faye's family. I—I couldn't take that away from you, Namtan. I didn't want to be the reason your life fell apart... or the reason your family turned against you." She exhaled shakily. "So... I left."

Namtan's eyes widened, her heart racing as Film's confession hung in the air, each word slicing through her like a blade. Of all the reasons she had imagined for Film's sudden departure, this—this wasn't one of them. The pain she had carried for two long months, the hurt and confusion, surged back, sharper and more raw than ever.

"You... saw the photos," Namtan said slowly, disbelief threading through her voice as she struggled to process the weight of Film's confession. "And instead of talking to me, you just... decided to leave?"

Her voice wavered, a storm of anger and hurt rising within her. "You didn't even give me a choice, Film." She let out a shaky breath, her hands clenching at her sides. "And I get it—I know I'm a hypocrite for saying that. After what I did, after I kidnapped you and took away your choice too."

Her voice softened, thick with emotion. "But I already told you... I was willing to take the risk. I was ready to fight for you. I would've given up everything for us."

Film's eyes softened with a sorrowful depth, her voice weary yet filled with a quiet sincerity. "And that's exactly what I was afraid of, Namtan," she said, her words barely above a whisper. "You giving up everything because of me. Believe me, it wasn't an easy decision. Leaving... it shattered me too. But I thought, maybe if I left, you wouldn't have to bear the consequences. I thought if I disappeared, your life wouldn't be torn apart because of me."

Her words struck Namtan like a chilling gust of wind. "You thought walking away, leaving me with nothing but pain and questions, was the right decision?" Her chest constricted as a storm of emotions churned within her. She rose to her feet, stepping back, crossing her arms tightly over her chest as though trying to protect herself from the torrent of feelings threatening to consume her. "You... you did the same thing to me that you did to Faye! You didn't talk to her either. You just... disappeared."

At the mention of Faye, Film flinched, the weight of guilt pressing heavily on her shoulders. "I—I didn't want to hurt you the way I hurt her," Film's voice cracked slightly. "I thought... if I left, it would be easier for you. That you'd hate me for a while, but eventually, you'd move on and be okay. I thought I was doing the right thing, Namtan. But I see now... I was wrong."

Namtan let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head in disbelief. "Do you have any idea what it felt like to wake up and find you gone? To be left with nothing but that letter—a letter that only said you hated me? I was left with nothing but questions, Film. And a pain that I didn't know how to deal with." Her voice quivered, the frustration and heartache spilled out uncontrollably

Film's head dropped, unable to meet Namtan's gaze. "I thought I was protecting you."

"You weren't protecting me," Namtan said, her voice quieter now but no less fierce. "You were protecting yourself. You were scared. And instead of facing it with me, you ran—just like you always do."

She paused, her breath unsteady, the weight of her emotions nearly unbearable. When she spoke again, her voice softened, but it trembled with raw hurt and longing.

"I would've fought for us, Film. I would've stood by you, no matter what. But you never even gave me that chance."

Tears shimmered in Namtan's eyes, her heart aching with every word—both a plea and a confession. She swallowed hard, forcing herself to continue.

"And when you said you didn't want me to give up everything for you, like you don't deserve it..." Namtan's voice broke, but she pushed through, her determination unwavering.

"I don't agree. I would give up my whole life for you, Film. That's how deep my feelings are for you."

Film's heart stuttered. She looked up, startled by the raw honesty in Namtan's voice. Before she could find the words, Namtan stepped closer, closing the space between them until only two feet remained. Her voice was soft but firm, every syllable carrying the weight of her truth.

"Don't ever think you don't deserve that," Namtan said, quiet yet resolute. "You do. It doesn't matter if we met yesterday or a year ago—my heart knows what it wants. And it wants you."

Film's breath caught. She took a hesitant step forward, her expression a mix of regret, hope, and something deeper—something more vulnerable than she had ever allowed Namtan to see.

"I never felt like I deserved you, Namtan," she admitted. "I was scared that if I stayed, I'd only hurt you more. But... I see now that leaving hurt you more than staying ever could." She hesitated, then took another step closer, her eyes searching Namtan's for even the smallest sign of acceptance. "I don't want to run anymore. I want to stay... if you'll let me."

The silence between them thickened, fragile yet electric. Namtan drew in a shaky breath, her shoulders softening just a little. When she finally spoke, her voice was quieter, but it carried an undeniable strength.

"Yes, Film. I want that too," she said. "But this time, no running. No more disappearing. If things get hard, we talk. We face it together. Can you do that?"

Film's eyes welled up with emotion. She nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. "Yeah," she said. "I can do that. I want to do that."

A tentative smile ghosted across Namtan's lips—the first sign of relief in her expression. She hesitated, then took a small step closer. "Do you want to stay for the night?"

Film blinked, momentarily caught off guard. But then, a gentle smile spread across her face. Her voice was steady, warm.

"Yes," she said. "I'd like to stay."

And just like that, the tension in the room shifted, replaced by something delicate yet undeniably hopeful. They weren't magically healed, and the road ahead wouldn't be easy. But for now, they were together. And for now, that was enough.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Hey Babes,

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