Rhea froze, shock stealing her breath. For half a heartbeat, she kissed back not with hope, but with memory.
Both of them breathing hard. Hearts racing. Everything messy and wrong.
Then Rhea heard it.
Whispers.
Gasps.
Phones shifting.
The weight of eyes.
Reality crashed in.
Rhea pulled back sharply, shoving Ling hard in the chest. "Have you lost your mind?"
Ling staggered half a step, stunned.
Rhea wiped her mouth angrily, shame and fury flooding her face. She looked around students staring, watching like it was entertainment.
"This is exactly who you are," Rhea said, voice shaking but loud enough to hurt. "You don't care who's watching. You don't care what it costs."
Ling tried to speak. "Rhea—"
"No," Rhea snapped. "Don't."
She backed away, hands clenched at her sides. "Don't touch me like that again."
Ling stood frozen, chest heaving, anger and something dangerously close to regret battling inside her.
Rhea turned away, shoulders stiff, walking fast down the corridor holding herself together by force.
Ling watched her go.
Around them, the corridor buzzed with murmurs, students unsure whether to breathe again.
Rina appeared at Ling's side quietly. "That… was a mistake."
Ling didn't answer.
Her fingers curled into fists.
She told herself the same lie again the one she was clinging to like armor.
It meant nothing.
It was mistake.
But her lips still burned.
And Rhea didn't look back even once.
Ling stood there, breathing uneven, hands trembling for the first time in a long time. Then she turned sharply and headed to the lockers because she knew. She always knew where Rhea would go when she needed to put herself back together.
The locker room was quiet.
Too quiet.
Rhea stood there already, back to Ling, stuffing her things into her bag with stiff, mechanical movements. Her shoulders were tense. Her hands weren't steady.
Ling stopped a few steps behind her.
For once, she didn't announce herself.
"Rhea," Ling said quietly.
Rhea didn't turn. "Go away."
Ling swallowed. Her pride fought her. Lost.
She stepped closer and held out her hand.
The ring lay in her palm.
Bent. Familiar. Heavy.
"I didn't mean to steal it," Ling said, voice low, stripped of its usual sharpness. "And what happened outside—" she paused, jaw tightening, "—that shouldn't have happened."
Rhea's fingers froze on the zipper of her bag.
Slowly, she turned.
Her eyes were red not dramatic, not loud just exhausted.
She looked at the ring. Then at Ling. Then away again.
"You already did it," Rhea said flatly. "Meaning doesn't change that."
Ling's hand stayed extended. "Take it."
Rhea laughed once, breathless. "You kissed me in front of everyone and now you're returning this?"
Ling flinched. "That's not what this is."
"Then what is it?" Rhea asked quietly. "An apology? Or damage control?"
Ling's throat tightened. "It's me fixing what I shouldn't have touched."
Rhea stared at her for a long moment, eyes searching for love, for reassurance for honesty.
"You don't get to decide when you care," Rhea said. "And when you don't."
Ling's voice dropped. "I know."
Silence stretched between them.
Finally, Rhea reached out and took the ring not gently. Not angrily. Just… decisively.
"There," Rhea said. "Done."
She slipped it into her bag and zipped it shut.
Ling watched her hands, then forced herself to meet Rhea's eyes. "What I said earlier—"
"Don't," Rhea interrupted immediately. "If you explain, you'll justify it. And I don't want to hear you justify hurting me again."
Ling nodded once. That hurt more than shouting would have.
"I won't touch you again," Ling said. "Unless you ask."
Rhea's expression flickered just for a second then hardened.
"I won't."
She slung her bag over her shoulder.
"You don't get to undo things just because you felt guilty after," Rhea said quietly. "Some damage stays."
Ling stood there quiet.
The ring was no longer in her pocket.
In one sharp movement, Rhea grabbed Ling by the collar and pinned her back against the lockers, metal clanging softly behind Ling's shoulders. The sound echoed in the empty room.
Ling froze.
That alone said too much.
Rhea leaned in, eyes blazing not with rage now, but something colder. Sharper.
"So," Rhea said quietly, dangerously calm, "you became a saint in seconds?"
Ling swallowed.
"Or is this just for now?" Rhea continued. "Until you feel powerful again?"
Ling turned her face slightly away, jaw tight. She refused to meet Rhea's eyes.
That silence from Ling Kwong was louder than any shout.
Rhea noticed.
Her grip didn't loosen, but her tone shifted, almost mocking.
"Want the ring?"
Ling's fingers twitched once.
She didn't reply.
Her eyes stayed lowered.
Rhea's lips curved slowly.
A smile of happiness.
There she was.
The Ling she knew too well.
The one who went quiet when she was cornered.
The one who looked dangerous to the world but terrified when her emotions were exposed.
Rhea tilted her head, studying her face closely. "Look at you," she murmured. "So loud outside. So cruel with words."
She leaned closer, voice dropping. "And here… you can't even answer."
Ling's breath came shallow. "Don't do this."
Rhea chuckled softly. "Do what? Talk?"
She loosened her grip just enough to slide her thumb along Ling's collarbone not affectionate, cruel. Testing.
"You called me senseless," Rhea said. "A goon. Said I don't think."
Ling flinched.
Rhea noticed that too.
"But right now," Rhea whispered, "I'm thinking very clearly."
Ling finally spoke, voice low and strained. "Then let me go."
Rhea didn't.
Instead, she leaned in until her lips were near Ling's ear.
"You don't get to touch me in public, humiliate me, steal from me… and then decide you're done."
Ling's hands were clenched at her sides, knuckles white. She still didn't push Rhea away.
Rhea still didn't let her go.
Her forearm stayed braced beside Ling's shoulder, body blocking every possible escape. The locker room felt smaller, tighter, the air heavy with unfinished words and shared damage.
"Look at me," Rhea said.
Ling's jaw clenched. Her eyes stayed fixed somewhere near Rhea's collarbone anywhere but her face.
Rhea's voice sharpened. "I said look at me."
Silence.
Then, slowly, unwillingly, Ling lifted her gaze.
Their eyes met.
Rhea inhaled sharply. For a second, the anger wavered not gone, just strained under something more raw. Hurt. Confusion. Want that refused to die.
Rhea's voice dropped, controlled but trembling at the edges.
"Where is the new ring you showed me this morning?"
Ling didn't answer immediately. Her throat moved as she swallowed.
Rhea waited.
No rushing. No shouting.
Power sat quietly between them now and for once, it wasn't Ling's.
Ling reached into her pocket, movements stiff, deliberate. She pulled out the small velvet box, opened it, and held it up without a word.
There it was.
Untouched. Perfect. Cold.
Rhea stared at it, then back at Ling's face.
"So," Rhea said softly, dangerously, "you can show me this… but you couldn't tell me the truth?"
Ling's fingers tightened around the box. "That's not—"
"Don't," Rhea cut in immediately. "Don't explain. I didn't ask for explanations."
She reached out and closed the box herself, pushing it back into Ling's hand. Her fingers brushed Ling's skin brief, electric, deliberate.
"I didn't want a replacement," Rhea said. "I wanted to know why you wanted the broken one."
Ling's lips parted. No words came.
Rhea's eyes searched her face relentlessly. "Say it."
Ling shook her head once. "You already know."
Rhea laughed under her breath bitter, almost amused.
"That's the problem, Ling. I know too much. And you still treat me like I'm stupid."
Ling finally snapped, voice low, rough. "I never thought you were stupid."
"Then why do you lie?" Rhea shot back. "Why steal? Why touch me like you own me and then pretend you don't care?"
Ling's control cracked just enough to show the fracture underneath.
"Because if I admit why," Ling said quietly, "I lose."
Rhea leaned closer again, foreheads nearly touching. "You already did."
Ling closed her eyes.
"Keep the new ring," Rhea said. "I don't want it."
She paused, then added, voice steady but final,
"And don't touch what's broken again unless you're ready to tell me why."
She took Ling's wrist firm, deliberate and guided her hand down, pressing it flat against her own stomach. Right over the navel. Right over the place that still remembered pain.
Ling stiffened instantly.
"Don't," Ling said, voice rough, breath already uneven. She tried to pull back.
Rhea didn't let her.
"Or make me wear it yourself," Rhea said quietly.
Ling shook her head, jaw tight. "You know what you're doing."
"Yes," Rhea replied. "I always do."
Ling's fingers curled reflexively, then stilled, as if she was fighting her own body. "If I do that," Ling said, low, dangerous, "I won't stop where you want me to."
Rhea leaned closer, her forehead brushing Ling's temple. Not pleading. Not soft.
Certain.
"That's why I asked you," she said.
Ling swallowed hard. Her control trembled not cracked, but strained to the edge. "You don't trust me," Ling said. "You just want to see if I'll fall."
Rhea smiled faintly and tilted her head, lips brushing Ling's cheek in a slow, intentional kiss, not innocent. A promise. A trigger.
"I trust you," Rhea whispered.
Then, softer the word that hit hardest:
"Baby."
Ling's breath broke.
Her hand pressed more firmly before she caught herself, fingers flexing once against warm skin, memory flashing too fast blood, pain, her own rage.