Whispers in the Dark [LingOrm]

"You Are the Best Thing That's Ever Been Mine"

Ling's pov 

"Good morning," Orm greeted softly as she stepped into my office, her voice carrying a gentle warmth that seemed to brighten the entire space. Without hesitation, she moved behind me, her hands naturally finding their way to my shoulders, where they began to work their magic, kneading away the tension that had built up from the morning's work.

"Come on, stop with that," I said, trying to inject some annoyance into my voice, but it was a futile effort. The truth was, I loved when she did this, though I wasn't about to let her know that just yet. There was something about the way her hands moved, how they seemed to know exactly where the knots of stress were hiding. It made me want to lean back and close my eyes, but I fought the urge.

"Why? I know you love this," she teased, her voice laced with playful confidence as she leaned in closer, the subtle scent of her perfume enveloping me. It was a familiar scent, one that brought with it a flood of memories, both good and bad.

"Maybe," I responded nonchalantly, keeping my eyes on the documents scattered across my desk. But the more she massaged, the harder it became to focus. Her touch was gentle yet firm, and it had a way of making the rest of the world fade into the background. It was getting increasingly difficult to think of anything other than how good it felt.

"You... stop with the maybes," she demanded, her tone still light but carrying a hint of seriousness. I could feel her gaze on the back of my head, waiting for a response, waiting for me to give her just a little more than I was willing to offer.

"Nah," I replied casually, though a smile tugged at the corners of my lips. I kept my eyes on the papers in front of me, trying to maintain some semblance of focus, even though I knew I was losing the battle.

"What are you doing?" she asked, her fingers pausing their work on my shoulders as she leaned over to glance at the documents. Her curiosity was evident, but there was something else in her voice—concern, maybe?

"Checking some company documents," I said, flipping through the pages, though I was hardly reading the words anymore. The steady rhythm of her hands had turned my concentration into a foggy mess, and I was finding it increasingly difficult to pretend otherwise.

"Hmm, do you hate doing this?" she asked, her voice gentle as if she were trying to tread carefully. It was a simple question, but the way she asked it made me pause.

"Why the question?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at her curiously. There was something in her tone that caught my attention, pulling me further away from my work. It was as if she was trying to figure out where I stood, trying to gauge my mood.

"Looks like you want to set these files on fire," she admitted with a soft laugh, her hands resuming their massage, but there was a knowingness in her tone, as if she could see right through me.

"I enjoy doing this," I said with a sigh, leaning back slightly into her touch, allowing myself a moment of honesty. "But I hate the owner of this company."

"Who is it?" she asked, her curiosity piqued as she leaned in closer, her breath warm against my ear. Her hands never stopped their movement, but I could tell she was fully engaged now, waiting for my answer.

"You," I replied, turning my head just enough to catch her reaction. As expected, she squeezed my shoulders with mock anger, making me wince playfully.

"I'm kidding!" I quickly added, laughing as I reached up to pat her hand reassuringly. The truth was, I wasn't hating this moment—not entirely—but there was no way I was going to admit that.

"Then who is it?" she pressed, her tone firm as she refused to let the question go. She wasn't going to let me off the hook that easily, and I knew it.

"Your friend," I said nonchalantly, turning my attention back to the papers in a poor attempt to deflect. I didn't want to talk about this, I didn't want to bring up the person who had become a thorn in my side.