Chapter Text
- Present Day -
Orm sat in her office, the late-afternoon light gleaming off the polished mahogany of her desk.
She was dressed in crisp cream trousers and a navy silk blouse, every inch the image of the young CEO she'd become after her father took a step back from the family business.
On her screen, quarterly reports were lined up in neat columns. She'd been reviewing them for over an hour, but her attention was already fraying at the edges.
She sipped her hot coffee, even if there were thirty-five degrees in Bangkok.
She tucked a stray hair behind her ear, and was about to force herself back into focus when her phone lit up beside her keyboard.
That name always felt like a small electric spark.
Orm's mouth curved before she could stop it.
The message.
Ling:
"Hi, beautiful. Can I call you later?"
She shook her head, rolling her eyes even as she typed.
"Always. Whenever you want. Can't guarantee I'll pick up, though."
The reply came almost instantly.
"Wow. Abandoned already? Tragic."
Orm huffed a quiet laugh, glancing at the closed office door to make sure no one was about to barge in.
"Abandoned already? I should have left you behind over a decade ago. But here I am. Unfortunately."
She re-read it. Smirked.
Typed again.
"Some of us have a real job, you know."
Ping.
"Did you wake up with ice cubes on your ass today?"
That made her laugh.
Another ping.
"I'm in between extremely important naps, by the way. I finished late last night. Can you pity me?"
Orm bit her lip to keep from laughing out loud.
"How glamorous." She typed quickly.
"I know, hard to believe."
Orm rolled her eyes.
"You're a menace, Lingling Sirilak Kwong. The worst kind."
Ping.
"I'm a delight, we both know that. Call you later. ANSWER. Pretty please."
Orm felt her heart do that stupid, weightless flip it always did when it was about Ling, even after all these years.
She set her phone down, knowing full well she wouldn't get another line of those reports finished until Ling called.
Later that day, Orm unlocked the door to her townhouse, already loosening the collar of her blouse as she stepped inside.
The air smelled faintly of cotton from the little oil diffuser Mei insisted they needed, "so it doesn't smell like boring grown-ups," she'd declared.
She slipped off her heels and padded into the kitchen, flicking on the light and opening the fridge.
Nothing jumped out at her as dinner inspiration, unless she wanted to attempt something elaborate with half a bell pepper and a questionable tub of curry paste.
She sighed, pressing her hand to her forehead.
Maybe they'd just order in.
Before she could close the fridge, the doorbell rang.
She didn't even have to look through the peephole to know who it was.
Orm pulled the door open, already bracing herself.
Narin stood there in his pressed shirt and neatly combed hair, one hand resting on Mei's small shoulder.
"Evening," he said, giving her a polite nod.
"Hi," Orm replied, managing a tired smile. "You survived school pickup?"
"Barely," he said dryly. "Your daughter talks more than any human I've ever met."
Mei huffed. "Because you ask boring questions, Papa."
Orm bit back a laugh. "Come inside."
Mei ran past Narin, kicking off her little white sneakers in the hall and skidding straight into the kitchen like a small cyclone.
"Can we have pizza?" she called out. "Please? You can pick the toppings, Mama. Even the weird ones."
Orm leaned in the doorway, arms crossed. "We'll see. Say goodbye to your father."
Narin stepped inside, watching Mei with a sort of resigned fondness.
"She's been like this the whole drive," he said. "She sounds more and more like your.. best friend. It's scary."
Orm rolled her eyes but couldn't help smiling. "Wonderful. Two of them."
"Exactly my point."
Mei popped her head back into the hall, grinning wide. "I'm delightful, Papa."
Narin sighed. "That's what she always says too."
Orm laughed, and for a second, it felt almost easy, like all of them had settled into something that worked, however unconventional it looked from the outside.
---
Orm stepped out of the shower, wrapping her hair in a towel.
The steam clung to the mirror, blurring her reflection into a soft outline she barely glanced at.
She slipped into a pale cotton camisole and matching shorts, feeling the day's exhaustion settle deep in her shoulders.
When she picked up her phone from the sink, her chest tightened.
Missed call - Ling (6 min ago)
Of course.
She sighed, thumbing open her messages to see if Ling had left anything else, but before she could check, Mei called from her bedroom, "Mama, can you braid my hair?"
Orm padded down the hall and sat on the edge of the bed, gently combing her fingers through Mei's soft hair.
She was halfway through the braid when her phone rang again.
Ling.
She pressed accept, her voice soft.
"Hey. Give me a minute, I'm putting Mei to bed."
Ling's voice crackled, warm even over the line.
"Can I talk to her for a second?"
Mei's eyes lit up instantly.
"Is it Auntie Bike?!"
Orm chuckled. That nickname would outlive them all.
"Here," she said, passing over the phone.
Mei scrambled to get the phone to her ear.
"Auntie Bike?!"
Ling's laugh rumbled faintly through the speaker.
"Little monster?"
Mei giggled, trying to sound outraged.
"Stoooop."
"You stop."
"No, you stop!"
"Alright," Ling said dramatically. "I'm done."
Mei smirked. "When are you coming back?"
"Next week. Miss me?"
Mei's voice softened.
"Always."
Orm couldn't help it. Her heart did that stupid, swelling ache.
Ling's voice dropped to something gentler.
"I miss you too, always. Goodnight, baby. Take care of Mama."
"I will. Love you."
"Love you too."
Mei handed back the phone, looking smug and sleepy all at once.
Orm leaned in to kiss her forehead.
"Goodnight, love."
"Night, Mama."
Orm turned off the lamp and stepped into the hall, pulling the door softly shut behind her.
She walked to her bedroom, leaving the door half-open.
She set her phone on the nightstand for a moment and pushed the window wide.
Warm air drifted in, carrying the scent of flowers and the faint hum of the city. She closed her eyes, letting the breeze cool her skin.
She picked up the phone again, Ling still on the line.
"So," Ling drawled, "how are you doing?"
Orm leaned against the window frame, crossing her free arm over her waist.
"I'm a bit tired," she admitted. "But looking forward to the weekend."
Ling made an exaggerated sound of dismay.
"I assume it's another weekend of thrilling activities like.. reorganising your spice cabinet? Vacuuming the baseboards? Folding your socks into perfect little squares?"
Orm let out a startled laugh.
"You're an idiot."
"An accurate idiot," Ling said brightly.
Orm smiled, shaking her head.
"What's up with you? Why have you been stalking after you disappeared for weeks?"
"I've been busy, Princess. And you were too, since my phone didn't blow up either."
Orm chuckled, "Touche'."
Ling's voice shifted, just a little.
"Orm.. I need to tell you something important."
Orm's heart gave a small, uneasy lurch.
"...Should I sit down?"
Ling let out a soft chuckle.
"Possibly?"
Orm ignored that and paced toward the bed instead.
"Come on, I'm on the edge here."
Ling drew in a breath she could almost hear through the line.
"I think.." Ling paused, voice uncharacteristically uncertain. "I might have.. done something a bit impulsive."
Orm groaned, "just spill it, will you?"
Ling sighed.
"I might have.. proposed."
Orm's blood stopped moving.
Her knees buckled, and she stumbled backward, missed the edge of the bed entirely and landed on her ass with an ungraceful thump.
Ling's voice sharpened, alarmed.
"Hey? Everything okay? What was that?!"
Orm cleared her throat, her voice a little strangled.
"Ah? Nothing. Don't worry." She managed to clamber onto the bed, wincing.
"Propose?? To.. which one?!"
Ling let out a scandalised noise.
"Rude. I'm monogamous. Just.. never serious. So it sounds like polyamory."
Orm pressed her palm to her forehead.
"Right. Of course. Sorry. So.. who?"
Ling exhaled, quieter now.
"With Kate."
Orm blinked, confusion tripping over itself.
"Kate.. the.. model?"
Ling actually groaned.
"Kate the Teacher. The American."
"Oh. Shit. Sorry. Yes. The American teacher. Right."
A beat of silence fell, weighted and strange.
Orm swallowed.
"You met her like.. What? Six months ago? Are you.. still going out with her? What happened to the six-dates rule?"
Ling hesitated.
"She broke it. Showed up unannounced at one of my concerts. I should have found it weird, but I found it.. cute. We kept seeing each other. I guess.. she's different from the others."
Orm didn't know what to do with that. She pressed her hand harder to her forehead, as if she could force the feeling back down where it belonged.
"But.. Lingling.. six months? Aren't you rushing?"
A pause.
"Does Mama even know her?!"
Orm inhaled.
"I don't even know her!"
Questions kept spilling.
Orm stopped in her track for a moment, she exhaled.
"And what did she say?!"
Ling hesitated.
"No."
Orm pressed her other hand to her face, trying not to laugh, cry, or both.
"Oh my God."
"She said I was.. sweaty and half-drunk and she didn't believe I was that serious," Ling said flatly.
"Which is fair. But also.. ouch."
Orm closed her eyes, heart doing something she didn't have words for.
"..You proposed after a concert?"
"It was a very good concert!" Ling protested, sounding defensive. "I felt.. euphoric. I thought it was romantic. And I thought.. that's what she wanted?! Maybe.. just not like this."
"Right. So.. are you.. what? Together but not engaged?"
Ling was quiet a moment.
"Well.. Clearly not engaged. But she said she just needs more time. I think she might.. be a good fit for me."
Orm let out a shaky exhale.
"How romantic."
Ling huffed a laugh.
"You know I'm not good at speaking romantic, that's why I can only sing it. And you know what I mean."
"Maybe we can talk about this when you come back next week?"
"Sure."
"Don't do anything more stupid."
"I can't promise anything," Ling said, voice softer. "But I'll try."
Orm closed her eyes.
"Alright. Goodnight, Trouble."
"Goodnight, Princess."
Orm set her phone down on the nightstand, staring at it like it might spontaneously combust.
Propose.
Lingling proposed.
To Kate the American Teacher.
She let out a strangled noise in her throat and stood, grabbing her robe off the hook and tugging it around herself like it might save her from what was about to come.
Downstairs, the house was quiet, just the soft hum of the fridge and the echo of her own disbelief.
She marched straight into the kitchen, yanked open the cabinet above the sink, and pulled down the bottle of Japanese whiskey she reserved for truly catastrophic days.
Unscrewing the cap, she lifted her eyes to the ceiling.
"I know it's not the weekend," she muttered to the kitchen gods, "but I need it right now."
She poured a generous shot and threw it back in one go.
It burned all the way down, but it didn't help.
She leaned both palms on the counter, exhaling.
"Fuck. Really?!" she hissed under her breath. "Shit."
Another shot.
"Alright, enough."
She slammed the bottle down and stalked into the garden barefoot, the grass cool under her feet.
For a second, she just stood there, clutching her robe tighter.
Then the urge to scream welled up in her chest.
She started hopping in place, tension making her shoulders hike up to her ears.
"Fuck," she whispered viciously. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!"
She slapped her own cheeks lightly, trying to reset her brain.
You're happy for her.
Or should I be sad because Kate the Teacher said no?
"Of course I am," she hissed, voice rising an octave. "I'm happy for her because they're together. I'm also sad for her, because Kate TT said no. For now. YAY because she's happy - OH NO because she said no..!?"
Her whisper came out strangled, halfway between a sob and hysterical laughter.
"She's my best friend."
She stopped jumping, pressing both hands over her face.
Somewhere in the house, Mei sighed in her sleep, and Orm realised she was going to have to pull herself together before morning.
Except, Mei wasn't sighing in her sleep. And she didn't get a chance to pull herself together either.
Tiny footsteps padded across the tile behind her.
"Mama?"
Orm nearly levitated out of her robe.
"SHIT!"
Mei stood in the doorway in her pink pyjamas, looking far too pleased with herself.
"You owe me a hundred baht for that," she announced primly.
Orm pressed a hand to her racing heart.
"Oh my God. Seriously?"
Mei nodded, unbothered. "I heard sounds."
"Right. That was.. my fault."
She crossed the garden in two strides and rested a hand on Mei's warm little shoulder.
"Come on, baby. Let's get you back to bed."
Mei tilted her head, studying her face in that unnervingly perceptive way of hers.
"Are you okay?" she asked softly. "Is Auntie Bike okay?"
Orm felt something twist behind her ribs.
"Yes, my love," she lied, smoothing Mei's hair.
"We're peachy, actually."
Mei squinted, clearly unconvinced, but shrugged and padded back inside.
Orm tucked her in, kissed her forehead, and whispered, "See you tomorrow."
When she finally made it back to her own room, she didn't bother turning on the light.
She collapsed face-first onto the bed, her voice muffled in the pillow as she muttered:
"God.. please make me happy for her."
She closed her eyes for a moment.
And her mind went back.
Years ago. Over a decade ago.
To a girl with long black hair and warm brown eyes.
A little chubby. Braces. Specs that always slipped down her nose.
Her Thai careful and wobbly.
Orm felt her heart swell, full to the brim with something she'd never been able to shake loose.
"My Lingling," she whispered into the darkness.
She needed to put herself back together. But for tonight, she let herself breathe hard and feel like the last person on earth who hadn't moved on.
---
A/N
Thank you for reading the first chapter of 'Always You. Unfortunately.' ❤️👀
This story is part rom-com, part emotional car crash in slow motion, because sometimes the people we love most are the ones we never quite figure out how to deal with.
Also, this is my first attempt to diverge from them being actresses. Bear with me on this one, I’m still adjusting. 😂
It’s a slow burn. I am simply incapable of writing short stories, and 'The Other Side' was my attempt to write people who communicate like emotionally functional adults (mostly). This story.. might not be always that efficient.
If you’re here for the long haul: welcome. I’m sorry. (But also, I’m not.)
A fair warning:
If the thought of seeing them with other people makes you queasy.. maybe pause here. I’ll be a bit ruthless with this one, occasionally. They make questionable choices. They’re emotionally constipated. And they both suffer for it in beautifully stupid ways.
Read the tag: Fuckboy Lingling as my personal sin. I wasn’t kidding. You’ve been warned.
But beneath the mess, this is still a love story. (Of course, it’s LingOrm!)
A story about loving someone through thick and thin, through choices, through pain. The kind of bond that never really breaks, it just bends, bruises, and waits to be chosen over and over again.
Thanks for being here. I appreciate you. 💜
More soon. 🔜