Alone I Break | LingOrm FF

~ Part 12 ~

~four years later~

Orm surveyed the mess in the living room with her hands on her hips. Mikey and Lingling had a 'drunken night' - which essentially meant they'd watched action films, ate pizza, and drank beer. Proof of the beer and pizza part existed on the coffee table, and both end tables. They could have at least cleaned up before going to bed, she thought to herself. So, she had two choices: clean it up herself or leave it until they finally roused themselves out of bed.

With a shake of her head, she left the living room and climbed the stairs leading to the second level. At the doorway to her room, she paused and lasciviously stared at her bed. Lingling lay naked under a blanket with her head tucked safely under the pillow to ward off the irritating rays of sunlight. Orm was tempted to go and pull the pillow away and allow the sun to wake her up. But instead, she simply stared and basked in the fact that she was in her bed.

Just as she'd wanted, they had started off rebuilding their friendship first. Despite the fact that she'd gotten money from James's life insurance policy, Mikey still moved into the house. The idea had originally been a solution to wanting to keep her home, but the insurance money negated that issue. She'd asked Mikey to move in anyway, not wanting to live in the house by herself. He agreed happily and took over what had once been her mother's room. Lingling visited almost every day, and the three of them often hung out watching movies, or simply having meals together. To Orm, it was the most comfortable way to bring Lingling back into her life.

The friendship thing worked for a while, but ever so slowly and without either of them really noticing it, they passed the friendship stage. It started out simple: a trip to the movies without Mikey, walks in the park, holding hands. The chemistry that had overwhelmed them years earlier returned full force. Then, almost a year after James's death, the emotions boiled over, leading to a memorable night for both. 

// "P' Lingling!" Orm whined, her hand reaching out to try and grab the remote control from Lingling. "We are sooo not going to watch football!"

"What's wrong with football?" Lingling wanted to know, keeping the remote out of her reach.

"Come on, can I please have the remote?"

"Nope."

Orm dove for the craved object, but Lingling stuck her hand up in the air, taking it out of her reach. Lingling laughed at the innocent pout that formed on her face. She was trying, but she wasn't giving in.

Climbing up on her knees, and leaning a hand on her shoulder, Orm again tried to take the remote from her, but Lingling quickly pulled it away. Her hand slipped off her shoulder and Orm crashed down onto her lap. The fall put the remote right in front of her face and Orm took the opportunity to yank it out of her hands. Laughing, she scurried across the couch.

Lingling hurried after her, pouncing on top of Orm. Orm wriggled to get away, but her weight was too much to get out from under. Giving one last effort, she twisted her body so that she was on her back instead of her stomach. When Orm looked up, she found herself face to face with Lingling, her dark, intense eyes staring down at her.

The remote control was soon forgotten as their eyes met and held. Lingling's head eased down until her lips were just above hers. She hesitated a moment, wary of her readiness. But her concern was soon forgotten as her hand latched onto her neck and pulled her the rest of the way. Their lips met in a searing kiss, not the first since their reconciliation, but containing much more heat than their earlier forays.

Passions soared as their hands roamed, the remote falling carelessly out of Orm's left hand to the ground. Lingling allowed Orm to set the pace, not wanting to rush her. It was soon apparent to her that her hesitancy was not warranted as her hands drifted under her shirt, slowly pulling the irritating boundary over her head. Lingling released a loud moan when her nails raked down her bare back. Her hands followed her lead, snaking underneath the blue tank top she was wearing. When her fingers came into contact with her skin, the reality of what they were doing intruded.