Chapter 28 - Reassurance and Princess Treatment

Earlier that evening, Orm had invited Lingling over with a gentle insistence. Lingling, still carrying the guilt of her harsh words, agreed immediately. Now, as the clock crept past midnight and the city outside whispered in quiet lullabies, the two of them sat on Orm's couch, facing each other in the dim glow of a table lamp.

Orm took a long, steadying breath, gathering her thoughts as she prepared to unravel the tangled truth about Ryu. "Ling," she began, her tone serious and measured, "I need to tell you about Ryu."

At the mention of his name, Lingling's face tensed visibly. Her eyes flickered with a mix of apprehension and something else Orm couldn't quite read. Lingling nodded silently, urging her to continue.

Orm exhaled, her gaze falling to the patterned rug before she looked up again. "We were... something. But not really." Her voice was low, almost a whisper meant only for Lingling's ears.

Lingling's brows furrowed as she listened intently. "What do you mean?" she asked softly.

Orm's sigh was heavy, laden with regret and self-realization. "He was charming. He knew exactly what to say to make me feel special." A small, rueful chuckle escaped her as she continued, "For a while, I thought I liked him... or maybe I thought I needed him."

Lingling's eyes never left Orm's face as she absorbed every word. "But...?" Lingling prompted gently.

"Every time he got too close, I found myself pulling back," Orm admitted, shaking her head slowly. "I didn't know why at the time—I just felt that something was missing. And now... I know what it was."

Orm paused, locking eyes with Lingling. Her tone became resolute and unflinching. "Because I never looked at him the way I look at you."

A heavy silence settled between them, charged with a thousand unspoken confessions. Lingling's breath caught in her throat. The statement hung in the air—a simple truth that struck deep. For Orm, it was as if all the confused feelings of the past were distilled into that one sentence.

Lingling remained silent for several moments, simply staring at Orm. The intensity of Orm's revelation, raw and unfiltered, took her completely by surprise. She blinked slowly, trying to process the gravity of Orm's confession.

"You don't get it, do you?" Orm teased softly, a bittersweet laugh escaping her as if to mask the vulnerability in her eyes.

Lingling frowned slightly, confused. "Get what?" she asked, her tone tentative.

Orm leaned back, rubbing her face as though trying to erase the emotional weight. "I don't chase people, Ling," she said, her voice edged with a mixture of pride and exasperation. "I've never chased anyone—ever."

Lingling absorbed this slowly, her mind whirring as she tried to reconcile Orm's words with her own feelings. "Orm, I know you're not one to do... embarrassing, desperate things," Orm continued, her voice growing quieter. "I don't plan stupid scenarios just to get someone's attention. But I did. For you."

A long silence followed, heavy with meaning. Lingling's heart began to pound in her chest as Orm's admission settled between them. Then, with a sigh that was almost a confession, Orm murmured, "Do you have any idea how much that scared me?"

Lingling's chest tightened, a familiar sting of regret mixing with remorse. She had overreacted, allowing jealousy to color her words in a way that hurt Orm deeply. She had never intended for Orm to feel unwanted, to feel that she wasn't enough.

Orm continued, her eyes now fixed on Lingling with a quiet intensity.

"Because I never looked at him the way I look at you."

Those words resonated with Lingling, unraveling the carefully maintained calm she prided herself on. In that moment, Lingling realized just how special Orm was to her—not just as a partner, but as the one person she couldn't bear to lose.

Lingling's voice came out in a near-whisper, raw with sincerity, "I really overreacted, didn't I?"

Orm's eyebrow quirked slightly. "You think?" she replied flatly, the edge in her tone softening as she allowed herself a moment of vulnerability.

For the first time in a long while, Lingling saw the truth in Orm's eyes. Orm had never fought so hard for anyone before, and now, as she laid bare her heart, Lingling felt a surge of protective, unyielding affection. This wasn't just about jealousy—it was about the fear of losing the one person who meant more to her than anything else.

Lingling inhaled, letting out a slow breath. "I was wrong," she said at last, voice quieter than usual, as though tasting each word for truth.

Orm, arms still folded, arched an eyebrow. "Go on," she prompted, masking the flicker of warmth in her chest with a practiced smirk.

Lingling's eyes sparked with the faintest tease of mischief. "And you were right," she admitted. The corner of Orm's mouth twitched in triumph.

Orm couldn't resist. "Say that again?" she teased, leaning forward a fraction.

Lingling rolled her eyes. "Don't push it," she warned, but the humor in her tone softened the sting of her words.

Orm let out a breathy laugh, relief washing over her. The unresolved tension between them finally seemed to crack. Lingling approached Orm and, with careful deliberation, took her hand. The simple contact felt comforting, charged with an unspoken promise of reconciliation.

"I want to make it up to you," Lingling said, her gaze steady. She squeezed Orm's fingers, an earnestness behind her words that Orm couldn't ignore.

Orm blinked, curiosity flickering across her face. "How exactly?"

Lingling leaned in, her eyes gleaming with intent. "By treating you like the princess you are."

A startled laugh bubbled out of Orm. "I like the sound of that," she said, still half-disbelieving but undeniably intrigued.

Lingling gently led Orm to the couch, guiding her to sit. Orm followed, casting a suspicious glance over her shoulder. "What are you—"

Disappearing into the kitchen, Lingling returned a few minutes later with a small tray of snacks, a pot of tea, and a folded blanket draped over her arm. The image was almost comical—Lingling, who was usually the epitome of calm efficiency, playing caretaker.

Orm raised an eyebrow. "Are you... tucking me in?"

Lingling carefully wrapped the blanket around Orm's shoulders, her expression serious. "Yes. Now be quiet and accept my love," she said in a soft but commanding voice.

Orm let out a snort of laughter at the deadpan delivery. The next moment, Lingling moved behind her, hands resting lightly on Orm's shoulders. "What are you—oh my god," Orm exclaimed when Lingling began a gentle shoulder massage, easing the tension that had built up over days of stress and unspoken concerns.

Orm let her head fall back, eyes drifting shut as a groan of pleasure escaped her lips. "Okay, I'm not mad anymore," she muttered, her tone drenched in relief.

Lingling smirked, kneading a knot at the base of Orm's neck. "I know," she said, confidence lacing her words.

Eventually, the two settled into a comforting silence. Orm leaned into Lingling's side, wrapped in the cocoon of warmth Lingling had created for her. Lingling's arm remained around her shoulders, tracing slow circles on Orm's arm with her fingertips. The simple tenderness soothed any lingering bitterness they might have felt.

Orm shifted slightly, angling herself so she could meet Lingling's gaze. "Hey," she murmured.

Lingling glanced down, responding with a soft "Hmm?"

Orm hesitated, then quietly confessed, "You know I'm yours, right?"

Lingling's heart stuttered. She wasn't used to such direct affirmations from Orm. "Yeah," she answered in a hushed voice. "I know."

Orm smiled, her cheeks warming. "Good," she teased. "Because I'm not doing this whole chasing thing again."

Lingling lifted her chin, amusement dancing in her eyes. "Liar."

Orm huffed, her face flushing, but said nothing more. Instead, she let her head rest against Lingling's shoulder, content to let the conversation dissolve into the soft hush of the living room. Lingling pressed a gentle kiss to Orm's forehead, a gesture so tender it sent a flutter of warmth through both of them.

"You're the best thing that's ever happened to me," Lingling whispered, the words tumbling out like a vow. Orm's heart tightened at the sincerity in Lingling's tone.

Orm reached up, cupping Lingling's cheek. "You're not so bad yourself," she murmured, voice tinged with affection.

They sat like that for a while, letting the tension from past arguments melt into a comfortable closeness. After some time, Lingling began running her fingers through Orm's hair in light, languid strokes. Orm let out a blissful sigh, a dreamy smile curving her lips.

"You're really spoiling me now," she teased, her tone drowsy with contentment.

Lingling smirked, continuing the gentle motion. "Making up for my mistakes," she replied, matter-of-fact.

A lazy giggle escaped Orm's lips. "Mmm," she sighed. "Maybe I should get mad at you more often."

Lingling raised an eyebrow, her voice dropping a note. "Don't push it, princess," she warned, but the fondness in her eyes betrayed her affection.

Orm giggled, nuzzling into Lingling's shoulder. The unspoken tension was gone, replaced by the quiet certainty that they'd navigated a storm and emerged closer for it. They stayed that way for the remainder of the night—no more doubts, no more fear. Just the two of them, reconciled in a gentle hush, enveloped in warmth and the reassuring knowledge that love, even when tested, was still love in the end.