Rhea swallowed. "I'm not."
Ling's chin dipped to Rhea's shoulder, not touching, just close enough to make her aware of every breath.
"You walked away," Ling said. "That's avoiding."
Rhea tried to pull her wrist free. Ling didn't tighten her grip she didn't need to. The hold was confident, not desperate.
"Ling," Rhea said, exasperated. "It's morning. Mom's still at home. You're impossible."
Ling hummed softly. "None of that answers my question."
Rhea exhaled, frustrated. "What question?"
Ling shifted her grip, fingers spreading over Rhea's waist deliberately, grounding her there.
"Why aren't you comfortable with me?" Ling asked.
The words weren't loud. They weren't dramatic. That made them worse.
Rhea went still.
Ling waited. She didn't rush. She didn't tease this time.
"I didn't say I wasn't comfortable," Rhea said finally.
Ling tilted her head slightly. "Then why does the idea make you run?"
Rhea closed her eyes for half a second. "Because you don't stop once you start."
Ling smiled faintly against her hair. "That's not a complaint."
"It is," Rhea said. "When you pretend you don't know what you're doing."
Ling laughed softly. "I always know."
Rhea turned in her arms, trying to face her. Ling let her but didn't let go. Rhea ended up trapped between Ling and the doorframe, faces close.
"This isn't about comfort," Rhea said. "It's about timing."
Ling studied her eyes carefully, searching for cracks, fear, excuses.
"And later?" Ling asked. "Later is real, right?"
Rhea hesitated. Just a second.
Ling noticed.
Her smile faded, replaced by something quieter. "Rhea."
Rhea sighed. "Later," she said again, firmer now. "I'm not saying no."
Ling held her gaze for a long moment. Then, slowly, she loosened her arm not fully letting go, just enough to give Rhea space without surrendering ground.
"I'll remember that," Ling said calmly. "Later."
She leaned in just enough to brush her lips near Rhea's ear, not touching.
"And I don't forget promises."
Rhea's breath hitched despite herself.
Ling finally stepped back, opening the bathroom door for her with a mock bow.
"Go," Ling said lightly. "Before I change my mind about waiting."
Rhea shot her a warning look but she went inside.
Ling watched the door close, arms crossing again, expression unreadable.
Ling waited.
At first, it was deliberate. Controlled. She leaned against the wall outside the bathroom, arms crossed, listening to the faint sounds inside water running, cupboards opening, Rhea moving like nothing had shifted.
Minutes passed.
Ling checked the time once. Then again.
Her jaw tightened.
She wasn't angry. Not yet. It was worse than anger the slow irritation of someone who never waits realizing she was being made to.
The bathroom door stayed closed.
Ling pushed off the wall and knocked once. Not hard. Not gentle.
"Rhea."
No answer.
Ling knocked again, this time sharper. "You said later."
The water stopped. Silence followed too clean, too intentional.
Rhea opened the door a crack. Her hair was tied up, face calm, expression carefully neutral.
"Yes?" Rhea asked.
Ling looked at her for a long second, eyes moving over her face, reading every micro-reaction. Then she stepped forward, placing one hand flat on the door and pushing it fully open.
"Later isn't disappearing," Ling said quietly.
Rhea sighed. "Ling—"
Ling cut her off by stepping inside, forcing Rhea to step back until her shoulder brushed the sink.
"You're doing it again," Ling said. "You promise, then you retreat."
Rhea folded her arms. Defensive. "I said later. That means later."
Ling leaned in, bracing one hand on the counter beside Rhea, the other resting on the opposite side caging her without touching.
"And how long do you expect me to wait?" Ling asked.
Rhea looked away. That was the mistake.
Ling noticed immediately.
Her voice dropped. "Look at me."
Rhea didn't.
Ling's patience cracked decisively. She reached out, fingers hooking under Rhea's chin, lifting her face just enough to force eye contact.
"I asked you something," Ling said. Calm. Dangerous. "How long?"
Rhea's throat bobbed. "Ling, this isn't about you."
Ling's thumb pressed lightly at Rhea's jaw. Not painful. Not kind.
"Everything between us is about me and you," Ling replied. "Don't pretend otherwise."
Rhea exhaled, frustration leaking through. "You don't know what you're asking."
Ling smiled faintly not amused, not teasing.
"That's a lie," she said. "I know exactly what I'm asking. I'm asking why you trust me with your bed, your room, your secrets but hesitate with this."
Rhea opened her mouth, then closed it again.
Ling leaned closer, foreheads almost touching.
"Say it," Ling murmured. "Or stop promising things you don't intend to give."
Rhea's eyes glistened just a hint. She swallowed hard.
"I'm scared," Rhea said finally. "Not of you. Of what I don't control when you're this close."
Ling froze.
The grip under Rhea's chin loosened immediately not retreating, just… changing.
"Then don't lie to me," Ling said, quieter now. "Don't run. Just say that."
Rhea breathed out shakily. "You don't stop."
Ling nodded once. Honest. "No."
Silence stretched between them, thick and loaded.
Ling stepped back half a pace enough to give Rhea space, not enough to surrender presence.
"I won't force you," Ling said. "But I won't pretend waiting doesn't cost me something."
She reached out, this time slow, deliberate, fingers brushing Rhea's wrist asking without words.
"When you say later," Ling added, eyes locked on hers, "mean it."
Rhea nodded. Small. Real.
"I mean it."
Ling held her gaze a moment longer, then finally stepped out of the bathroom, leaving the door open behind her.
"I'll wait," Ling said over her shoulder.
"But don't make me wait alone."
She walked back toward the bed, tension still humming in the air not resolved, not exploded.
Just sharpened.
Rhea came out of the bathroom with a towel loosely wrapped around her shoulders. She stopped near the bed, not looking at Ling.
"Don't look," Rhea said casually, already reaching for her clothes. "I'm changing."
Ling didn't answer.
She leaned back against the headboard instead, one arm resting behind her head, eyes half-lidded obedient in posture, not in intent.
"Relax," Ling said after a beat. "I'm not looking."
Rhea snorted softly, turning her back to her anyway. She tugged the towel off her shoulders and reached for her top, completely unaware that Ling's gaze had sharpened.
Ling remembered.
Three weeks ago.
Rhea at her mansion.
Ling's bathroom glass walls, deliberately transparent, deliberately designed.
Rhea standing under the water, skin blurred by steam, hands in her hair.
Ling had watched her then. Openly. Unapologetically.
And Rhea hadn't been angry.
She hadn't even commented.
Ling's jaw tightened slightly at the memory.
Now Rhea stood a few feet away, back to her, slipping into her clothes with unhurried movements. The shirt slid over her shoulders. The fabric clung for a moment before settling. The shorts followed, elastic stretching, then snapping back into place.
Ling's eyes followed every motion.
Rhea adjusted the waistband, still talking like nothing was happening. "Don't be weird."
Ling smiled faintly.
"You're the one changing in front of me," Ling said. "I'm just existing."
Rhea glanced over her shoulder. "You promised you wouldn't look."
Ling's gaze didn't move. "I promised."
Rhea didn't realize it at first.
She smiled to herself, adjusted her shirt, and walked a few steps toward the bed like nothing was wrong. Casual. Light. Almost relaxed.
"You don't have any problem, right?" Rhea said, half-turning back.
Ling didn't bother pretending.
"Of course I was watching."
Rhea stopped.
Slowly, she turned around.
Her smile vanished.
"What?" Rhea asked sharply.
Ling straightened, immediately registering the shift. "What?"
Rhea's expression hardened not embarrassed, not flustered. Defensive. Controlled. Cold.
"Why?" Rhea snapped. "Why were you watching when I told you not to?"
Ling frowned, genuinely confused. "Rhea—"
"I stopped me," Rhea cut in, voice rising. "I explicitly stopped you."
Ling took a step closer, palms open. "You weren't like this three weeks ago."
Rhea stiffened.
Ling continued, carefully now, trying to understand. "You bathed behind glass. You knew I could see you. You didn't say anything. You didn't care."
Rhea's jaw tightened.
"So why now?" Ling asked quietly. "First the bath. Now this. What changed?"
Rhea laughed once sharp, humorless.
"Don't compare," she said. "You don't get to compare."
Ling blinked. "I'm not accusing you. I'm asking."
Rhea turned away, arms crossing tightly over her chest like she was holding something in.
"That was different," Rhea said again.
Ling's voice softened despite herself. "Tell me how."
Rhea shook her head. "You wouldn't understand."
Ling stepped into her space, not touching, just close enough to be undeniable. "Then explain it to me."
Rhea finally looked at her eyes bright, unsettled.
"You don't see the difference because you don't lose control," Rhea said. "You decide. You take. You stop when you want."
Ling inhaled slowly.
"And I don't," Rhea continued. "When you look, when you touch, when you push. I stop thinking. That didn't scare me before."
Ling went still.
"And now?" Ling asked.
Rhea swallowed. "Now it does."
Silence dropped between them.
Ling stepped back a fraction, recalibrating.
"I didn't know," Ling said quietly.
Rhea exhaled, frustration leaking through. "That's the problem. You never do."
Ling watched her for a long moment, then nodded once.
"Then don't lie to me," Ling said. "Don't act like nothing's wrong and then explode."
Rhea looked away.
Ling added, lower now, controlled again, "If you draw a line, I'll see it. But you have to actually draw it."
Rhea didn't answer.
Ling didn't argue.
She stepped back several like Rhea had burned her. Her posture straightened, expression sealing shut with practiced precision.
"Got it," Ling said calmly. Too calmly. "I won't cross anything again."
Rhea turned, startled, she moved closer. "Ling—"
"No," Ling interrupted, already moving away. "You were clear. I heard you."
She reached for her hoodie, slipped it on, tugged the sleeves down like armor. The playful warmth from minutes ago vanished so fast it felt unreal.
"I'll keep my distance," Ling continued. "No watching. No touching. No teasing. No pressure."
Each word landed like a small cut.
Rhea frowned. "That's not what I meant."
Ling didn't look back. "It's exactly what you meant."
She moved to the window, opening it wider than necessary, cold air rushing in. The physical space between them grew heavy, deliberate.