The Story of Us | LingOrm

Chapter 11: Half Made Whole - Part 1

"Nong Orm?" Ling's voice called out, a hint of panic edging her tone.

Another crash of thunder shook the apartment, louder and more sudden than before. Orm let out a small, involuntary yelp, her heart racing. The sound surprised her as much as the thunder did. She thought she had outgrown this fear when she was still small, but apparently, some childhood terrors never truly fade.

The rain intensified, now a roaring deluge against the windows, adding to the cacophony of the storm.

The darkness seemed to press in around them, making Ling's worried voice sound even closer. "Nong Orm? Are you okay?"

Orm took a shaky breath, trying to steady her voice. "Y-yes," she managed, embarrassed by the tremor in her words. "Just... startled by the thunder."

There was a pause, and when Ling spoke again, her voice was softer, tinged with a hint of protective concern that Orm hadn't heard in weeks. "I didn't know you were still afraid of thunderstorms."

"Neither did I," Orm admitted, her voice small in the darkness. "P'Ling?" she called out softly, her voice barely audible over the pounding rain outside. "Where are you? Just give me a moment to find my way to you."

The darkness enveloped them, thick and disorienting. Orm took a tentative step forward, her hands outstretched, feeling her way through the familiar yet suddenly alien landscape of Ling's apartment.

"Here," Ling's voice came from somewhere to her left. "I'm by the bookshelf, I think."

Orm turned towards the sound, moving slowly to avoid bumping into furniture. Her shin collided with what she assumed was the coffee table, and she bit back a yelp of pain.

"Nong Orm?" Ling's voice was tinged with concern. "Are you alright?"

"Yes," Orm replied, rubbing her shin. "Just found the coffee table with my leg."

She heard a soft huff that might have been a laugh from Ling's direction. It was such a familiar sound, one she hadn't heard in so long, that it made her heart ache.

Orm continued her careful journey across the room. She could hear Ling moving too, the soft shuffle of feet and the occasional rustle of fabric as she navigated around obstacles.

"I think I'm close," Ling said, her voice nearer now.

Orm reached out, her fingers brushing against the bookshelf. "Me too," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

They were so close now, Orm could hear Ling's breathing, slightly quickened from the effort of moving in the dark. She took another small step forward, her hand still outstretched.

Suddenly, a flash of lightning illuminated the room for a split second. In that brief moment, Orm saw Ling, her good arm extended, reaching out. Their eyes met, and even after the room plunged back into darkness, Orm could still see the image of Ling's face, a mix of determination and something else... something that made her breath catch.

Then, in the darkness, their hands found each other.

It was like an electric current running through them both. Orm's fingers instinctively intertwined with Ling's, a gesture so familiar yet now fraught with new meaning. She felt Ling's hand trembling slightly, or maybe it was her own.

For a moment, they stood there in silence, connected by this simple touch that felt monumental after weeks of careful distance. Orm could feel the warmth of Ling's palm against hers, the slight calluses on her fingers, the gentle pressure as Ling tightened her grip ever so slightly.

"I've got you," Orm whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

She felt, rather than saw, Ling nod. "And I've got you," Ling replied, her voice equally soft and laden with unspoken feelings.