Morning at the university arrived loud and restless.
Rhea walked through the gates, Shyra messages sent at dawn full of teasing warnings and heart emojis. Her mother had already left early, another meeting day, nothing unusual. Life looked normal again.
Too normal.
Ling was already on campus.
Rhea spotted her before she meant to black jersey, sleeves rolled, hair tied back loosely, a basketball spinning once on her finger before dropping into her palm. The court was crowded with students gathering for practice, some playing, some just watching.
Rhea slowed without realizing.
Ling looked up.
Their eyes met.
Ling didn't smile. She didn't wave. She simply nodded once a silent come here and turned back to the court.
Rhea followed.
The basketball thudded against the floor in steady rhythm. Ling moved like she belonged there sharp turns, quick passes, effortless control. She wasn't showing off, but people watched anyway.
Rhea sat on the steps near the court, hugging her bag to her chest.
A girl from Ling's department approached her. "You're Ling's friend, right?"
Rhea hesitated. "Yes."
The girl smiled knowingly. "She plays better when you're around."
Rhea blinked. "That's… not true."
From the court, Ling's gaze flicked toward them.
The girl noticed. "See?"
Rhea looked away, flustered.
Mid-practice, the coach blew the whistle. "Break. Five minutes."
Players dispersed.
Ling walked straight to Rhea, sweat glistening faintly on her neck. She grabbed a towel, wiped her face, then held out a bottle without asking.
"You forgot this," Ling said.
Rhea took it automatically. "I didn't forget—"
"You did," Ling replied calmly. "You always do when you're distracted."
Rhea frowned. "I wasn't distracted."
Ling raised an eyebrow. "You were staring."
Rhea flushed. "I was not."
Ling leaned slightly closer, voice low. "You were."
Rhea crossed her arms. "So what if I was?"
Ling smiled — small, controlled. "Nothing. I like knowing where your attention goes."
Rhea laughed it off, unaware how deliberate the words were. "You sound possessive."
Ling shrugged. "Only protective."
Rhea accepted that explanation easily.
Another student approached Ling. "We're switching teams. You in?"
Ling glanced at Rhea first. "I'll play one more round."
Rhea waved her off. "Go. I'll wait."
Ling studied her face, then nodded. "Stay right here."
It sounded casual.
It wasn't a request.
Rhea didn't move the entire time Ling played again.
During the final play, a girl from the opposing team blocked Ling a little too close, laughing as she did. Ling didn't react not immediately. She simply pivoted, passed, scored, and then glanced toward Rhea.
Rhea's jaw tightened without her realizing.
Ling noticed.
When the game ended, Ling walked back, slower now. "You okay?"
Rhea blinked. "Me? Why?"
"You went quiet," Ling said.
"I was just watching."
Ling nodded, satisfied. "Good."
She draped her jacket over Rhea's shoulders despite the warm day. "You'll catch cold."
"I'm fine," Rhea protested weakly, but didn't remove it.
Ling sat beside her instead of returning to the team.
"You skipped class for this?" Rhea asked.
Ling tilted her head. "You're more important."
Rhea smiled, warmth blooming again that same soft misunderstanding.
She didn't question why Ling chose when to prioritize her.
She didn't notice how often she was being placed at the center.
Ling watched the court without watching it, senses tuned elsewhere.
Another morning.
Another choice.
Rhea leaned slightly toward her without thinking.
Ling let it happen.
The coach walked in briskly, clipboard tucked under his arm, expression tight. "Everyone listen up."
Ling straightened immediately.
"The competition is now," the coach announced. "Schedule changed."
Ling frowned slightly. "It was supposed to be tomorrow."
"It was," the coach said. "But the chief guest arrived early. Administration wants it done today."
A murmur spread across the court.
Ling nodded once. "Okay."
No complaint. No hesitation.
She stood, rolling her shoulders, already switching modes. Rhea watched the change — how Ling's posture sharpened, how her face settled into something colder, more focused.
Ling glanced at Rhea instinctively.
"I'll be here," Rhea said quickly, before Ling could ask.
Ling's gaze lingered for a second longer than necessary. "Don't leave."
Rhea smiled. "I won't."
That was enough.
Ling turned back to the team.
The stands filled faster this time. Faculty members arrived. Students crowded the edges. Whispers about the chief guest rippled through the air influence, power, reputation.
Rhea stayed exactly where Ling had left her.
No one else mattered.
Ling noticed.
As teams lined up, Ling's eyes flicked toward the stands once more not searching, just confirming. Rhea sat upright, hands folded, attention fixed entirely on her.
Ling felt something settle into place.
The whistle blew.
The game started fast aggressive, loud, physical. Shoes squeaked against the floor, the ball slammed into palms, bodies collided.
Ling dominated the court.
Not recklessly deliberately.
She passed when needed, blocked without fouling, scored cleanly. Every movement was controlled, efficient. When someone tried to provoke her, she ignored them and scored anyway.
Rhea's heart raced with every play.
Each time Ling scored, her gaze found Rhea without fail.
And each time, Rhea smiled.
Mid-game, a rough collision sent Ling stumbling slightly. The crowd gasped.
Rhea stood up halfway from her seat.
Ling recovered instantly, waved off the referee, and continued playing — but when she next passed near the stands, her eyes locked on Rhea.
I'm fine.
Rhea sat back down, exhaling shakily.
Ling noticed that too.
The chief guest arrived during the final quarter, escorted by faculty. The atmosphere sharpened. Pressure climbed.
Ling didn't change her pace.
If anything, she became calmer.
She scored the final basket with seconds to spare.
The whistle shrieked.
Game over.
Cheers erupted.
Rhea didn't realize she was clapping until her hands hurt.
Ling stood at center court, chest rising steadily, eyes searching finding Rhea immediately.
She smiled then.
The noise hadn't even settled when a sharp, playful shout cut through the air.
"Your signature, show-off Kwong!"
Laughter rippled through the crowd.
Ling turned, already amused. She didn't ask who said it she knew. She always knew when attention was aimed at her.
A slow smile curved her lips.
Instead of replying, Ling hooked her fingers into the hem of her jersey and lifted it just enough.
Abs. Defined. Effortless. Casual like it meant nothing.
The reaction was instant.
The crowd exploded.
Girls screamed, whistled, called her name. Phones were raised. Someone shouted something shameless. Another laughed too loudly. A few leaned forward like they might actually faint.
Ling let the jersey drop again, completely unbothered, rolling her shoulders like she hadn't just set the place on fire.
She loved the chaos.
She loved control.
And then her eyes moved.
Straight to Rhea.
Rhea stood frozen.
Her hands clenched without her realizing. Her chest felt tight, heat crawling up her neck, her ears burning.
She hated it.
The way they looked at Ling.
The way they felt entitled to react.
The way Ling seemed so… comfortable letting it happen.
Rhea swallowed.
They're staring at her like she belongs to them.
The thought made something sharp twist inside her.
Ling caught the expression immediately.
The tension in Rhea's jaw.
The way her smile had vanished.
The way her eyes darkened.
Ling's lips twitched.
Interesting.
Ling walked toward the stands, slow and deliberate, ignoring everyone else calling her name.
As she passed a group of girls, someone muttered, "God, she's unreal."
Ling didn't stop.
She stopped only when she reached Rhea.
"You're quiet," Ling said lightly.
Rhea forced a neutral tone. "You like attention."
Ling tilted her head. "Is that a complaint?"
Rhea didn't answer.
Her eyes flicked briefly toward the crowd still buzzing, still watching Ling then back to Ling's face.
Ling smiled wider.
"Oh," she said softly, leaning in just enough so only Rhea could hear, "you're jealous."
Rhea scoffed. "Don't flatter yourself."
Ling hummed. "Your fists say otherwise."
Rhea glanced down only then realizing her hands were clenched tight at her sides. She loosened them quickly, annoyed at herself.
Ling leaned closer, voice dropping. "You didn't like them looking at me."
Rhea met her gaze, honest despite herself. "No."
Ling's eyes darkened not amused now, but pleased.
She straightened suddenly, loud enough for others to hear. "Come on. I'm hungry."
Rhea blinked. "That's it?"
Ling turned back once more, her gaze lingering on Rhea with intent. "Relax. I know who I came with."
She took a step, then paused.
Without looking back, she added quietly, just for Rhea:
"And next time, I'll ask before I show off."
Rhea's breath hitched.
The crowd still buzzed.
The attention still lingered.
But Ling walked away.
Then suddenly stopped walking.
She turned back toward the court and raised her voice.
"Rhea."
The name echoed.
Every conversation paused. Heads turned. Phones lifted again.
Rhea froze.
For a second, she stayed where she was, aware of the crowd, aware of every eye tracking the space between them. Her heart thudded hard. She glanced around whispers, curiosity, expectation.
Then she walked toward Ling.
Slowly. Steadily.
Ling didn't wait for her to reach fully.
The moment Rhea was close enough, Ling's hand slid to her waist and pulled her in, firm and unapologetic, right there in front of everyone.
A sharp inhale rippled through the crowd.
Rhea's breath caught. Her palms pressed instinctively against Ling's chest, not pushing away just grounding herself.
Ling leaned down, voice low but carrying.
"Why were you jealous?" she asked calmly.
Rhea swallowed, eyes flicking away.
Ling continued, louder now, deliberate.
"A person gets jealous only when they think they might lose something they want."
She tilted Rhea's chin up with two fingers, forcing her to meet her gaze.
"But you don't lose what's already yours."
The words landed heavy.
Ling's thumb brushed once at Rhea's jaw. Then she said, clearly, unmistakably:
"I'm yours."
The crowd erupted gasps, murmurs, disbelief.
"And today," Ling added, eyes never leaving Rhea, "I'll make sure everyone knows."
Before Rhea could respond, before her thoughts could catch up, Ling leaned in and kissed her.