Ling kissed too deep, too hard, tongue forcing past Rhea's lips in a demanding thrust.
Her hand cupped the back of Rhea's head, holding her in place as she devoured, sucking on her lower lip, biting just enough to sting.
Rhea whimpered, hands pushing weakly at Ling's shoulders, her breaths coming in short, ragged bursts she couldn't catch.
The kiss dragged on, Ling's dominance unyielding, tasting the wine-sweet remnants on Rhea's tongue until Rhea's knees buckled slightly.
Ling felt it.
Not after. Not Immediately. later.
Finally, Ling pulled back, a string of saliva connecting their lips for a beat before breaking. Rhea panted, chest heaving, eyes glassy. "Ling... I... couldn't breathe."
Ling stepped back, giving space, breathing hard not with want, but with realization.
"I—" Ling started, then stopped herself.
Rhea inhaled sharply, one hand pressed to her chest as she tried to steady her breathing. Her lips were smudged, lipstick blurred not seductive, just vulnerable. She didn't look angry. She looked shaken.
Ling's face drained of color.
"I'm sorry," Ling said quietly, firmly, without excuses. "That wasn't okay."
She didn't touch Rhea. Didn't joke. Didn't tease. She stayed where she was, giving Rhea the choice to come closer or not.
Rhea's breath slowly evened out. After a moment, she nodded, small but real.
"You scared me," she admitted. "Not because of you. Because it felt… too hard."
Ling swallowed. "I won't do that again."
The music kept playing softly, unaware of the shift in the room. Ling reached out only after Rhea lifted her hand first fingers brushing Ling's sleeve, permission clear this time.
Ling took her hand gently, like it was something precious instead of something she could claim.
"I want you," Ling said honestly. "But I won't ever want you at the cost of your breath. Or your trust."
Rhea looked up at her then eyes still glassy, but steady.
"I want you too," she said. "Just… let me lead when it gets heavy."
Ling nodded without hesitation. "Always."
She lifted her thumb and carefully wiped a faint smear of lipstick from Rhea's lip slow, cautious, asking with her eyes before doing even that.
Rhea reached for her first.
Her hands slid up Ling's arms, steady despite the faint tremor in her fingers, and she pulled Ling closer until their foreheads touched again. Her voice was soft, breath-warm between them.
"You didn't do anything wrong," Rhea said quietly. "I liked it. I like the way you are with me. I don't have any problem."
Ling searched her face, slow and careful, making sure this wasn't fear dressed up as reassurance. When she saw only honesty there, she nodded once, grounding herself.
Rhea leaned in and kissed her. Just a gentle press of lips, a pause, then another, slower. She lingered, brushing her mouth against Ling's as if testing the rhythm, teaching rather than surrendering.
She pulled back just enough to whisper against Ling's lip, half-smiling, half-breathless.
"Start with this," she murmured, voice low and teasing. "Then go harder, my monster."
Ling huffed a quiet laugh through her nose, the tension easing from her shoulders. "You're dangerous when you talk like that."
She followed Rhea's lead exactly returning the kiss with more presence, more certainty, but still controlled. Her hands stayed where Rhea had already allowed them, one resting at her waist, the other at her back, touch firm.
The kiss deepened in feeling, not force. Ling tilted her head slightly, giving Rhea room, responding instead of taking.
When Rhea sighed softly, Ling smiled against her lips a small, satisfied sound, like she'd been given a gift rather than won something.
"You tell me," Ling said quietly between kisses. "Every step."
Rhea nodded, fingers tightening briefly in Ling's blazer. "I will."
They stayed like that for a while kissing, pausing, laughing softly when noses bumped, the world narrowing to breath and warmth and trust.
The decorations, the music, the unopened questions all faded into the background.
For now, it wasn't about how far they went.
It was about how safely they moved together.
Rhea lifted her hands slowly, as if afraid the moment might shatter if she moved too fast. Her palms cupped Ling's face, thumbs resting just below her cheekbones. Their noses brushed too close to pretend this was casual and Rhea closed her eyes like she needed the darkness to find courage.
Ling went still.
Not stiff. Not guarded. Just… attentive.
"Rhea," Ling whispered, barely sound at all. "Hey. Look at me."
Rhea shook her head faintly. "If I open my eyes, I'll lose it."
Ling didn't push. She leaned in just enough for their foreheads to touch, her breath warm, steady grounding. "Then don't open them. Just talk."
Rhea inhaled, sharp at first, then slower. Her thumbs traced small, nervous arcs on Ling's skin. "I don't know how to say this without sounding weak," she began. "Or foolish. Or like I'm giving you something you could break."
Ling's voice softened. "I'm not holding a weapon, Rhea."
That earned a tiny, breathless smile.
"I know," Rhea said. "That's the problem."
She swallowed. Her voice trembled despite her effort to control it.
"I think about you when I wake up. Not in a dramatic way just… you're there. Like breathing. And when you leave, even for a few hours, my chest feels wrong. Like something's out of place."
Ling's hands lifted, hovering near Rhea's waist, waiting. When Rhea nodded faintly, she rested them there, warm and steady.
"I've never let anyone this close," Rhea continued. "Not because I didn't want to. Because I didn't know how to survive it if they left."
Ling exhaled slowly, forehead still pressed to hers. "And you think I'll leave?"
Rhea's lips curved sadly. "I think loving you means I finally gave someone the power to hurt me."
Silence fell heavy, intimate.
Ling broke it gently. "That's not weakness."
Rhea opened her eyes then. They were glossy, honest, unguarded.
"It feels like it," she said. "But I still want it. I want you. Even knowing that."
Ling lifted one hand to Rhea's wrist, pressing a kiss there slow, deliberate, reverent. "You don't love me carefully," she said. "You love me bravely."
Rhea laughed softly through the emotion. "I don't know how to do it any other way."
Ling smiled not teasing, not sharp just warm. "Then let me meet you there."
Rhea leaned in, noses brushing again, voice dropping to a whisper meant only for Ling.
"I don't want promises about forever," she said. "I just want you to choose me. Again and again. Even on days I'm difficult. Even when I'm scared."
Ling didn't hesitate. "I already do."
Rhea's breath stuttered. "Say it clearly."
Ling tilted her head, eyes locked on Rhea's.
"I choose you," she said. "Not because it's easy. Because it's you."
Rhea's hands tightened on Ling's face, grounding herself in the truth of her presence. She leaned in and pressed her lips softly to Ling's not a kiss meant to consume, but one meant to seal something spoken at last.
When she pulled back, her voice was steady now.
"That's all I wanted to say."
Ling smiled, brushing her nose against Rhea's. "You said it perfectly."
And for a moment, nothing else existed not plans, not secrets, not what tomorrow might demand only two breaths finally moving in the same rhythm.
Ling voice was quiet, steady, stripped of teasing like she was placing something fragile on the table between them instead of making a demand.
"You trust me with your thoughts," Ling said softly. "With your fear. With the parts of you that still hurt."
She brushed her thumb along Rhea's jaw, slow, grounding.
"Would you trust me with your body too tonight?"
Rhea didn't answer immediately.
She breathed. Once. Twice. Her hands were still on Ling's face, thumbs warm against her skin. When she finally opened her eyes, there was no panic there only resolve, mixed with vulnerability.
"Yes," Rhea said.
Not rushed. Not forced.
Ling searched her face one last time, as if looking for cracks, for hesitation hiding behind bravery. Finding none, she nodded accepting the responsibility more than the permission.
"Then I'll carry you," Ling said quietly. "Not take you."
Rhea's lips curved faintly at that.
Ling slid one arm beneath Rhea's knees, the other around her back, lifting her with an ease that made Rhea gasp despite herself. Instinctively, she wrapped her arms around Ling's neck, forehead dropping to Ling's shoulder.
"Show-off," Rhea murmured.
Ling huffed softly. "You knew that already."
She carried her to the bed and lowered her carefully, like placing something precious down rather than setting someone aside. The mattress dipped beneath Rhea's weight, the lights casting warm shadows across the room, the world shrinking to this quiet space.
Ling didn't climb over her immediately.
She sat beside her instead, brushing hair away from Rhea's face, letting the moment breathe.
"We stop if you say stop," Ling said. "Even if it's a whisper. Even if it's halfway through."
Rhea reached for her hand, threading their fingers together. "I know."
Ling leaned down then, pressing a slow kiss to Rhea's forehead not hungry, not claiming. Just present.
Then Ling hovered there for a second, shadow falling over Rhea's face.
Rhea's eyes flicked away, lashes lowering. Her voice came soft, almost embarrassed.
"Blanket…"
Ling smiled not teasing, not sharp something gentler, warmer. She reached to the side and pulled the blanket up, tucking it around them both, careful, deliberate. The space beneath it felt suddenly smaller, safer.
"There," Ling murmured. "Hidden."
Rhea let out a quiet breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Her fingers curled into the fabric near Ling's shoulder, knuckles brushing skin through cloth. The closeness made her heartbeat loud in her ears.
Ling lowered herself slowly, resting her weight on one elbow so she wasn't pressing down. Her free hand traced idle patterns on the blanket near Rhea's waist never crossing lines, always waiting.
"You do this every time," Ling said softly, amused. "Brave about everything… except asking for a blanket."
Rhea huffed, cheeks warm. "It's different."
"How?"
"Because you're looking at me like that."
Ling's gaze softened. "Like what?"
"Like you see too much."
Ling leaned in just enough for their foreheads to touch through the dim light.
"I see you," she said simply. "And you're safe."
Rhea nodded, eyes closing for a moment as if committing the words to memory. Under the blanket, their knees brushed, their breathing slowly syncing.
Ling stayed there not rushing, not pushing letting the quiet wrap around them as tightly as the blanket itself.
Ling paused above her, breath warm against Rhea's cheek.
"Can I?" she asked again quieter this time, not for permission she could take, but for reassurance she wanted.
Rhea nodded. Small. Certain.
That was enough.