Serenade in a Coffee Cup

The Concert and the Darkness Part 2

Orm's heart pounded as she approached the door, already knowing what she would find on the other side—or at least, who. Ling was her constant, her safety net, and after the day she'd had, Orm needed her warmth and reassurance. She gripped the handle, inhaling deeply, only to find herself staring at a postman instead.

"Ms. Kornnaphat?" he asked, holding out an envelope and a clipboard for her to sign.

The disappointment mingled with confusion as Orm signed, nodding absently at the postman's pleasantries. The envelope, plain and unmarked, felt heavy in her hands. Her name was written in a meticulous, almost clinical handwriting, with no return address.

She shut the door, her chest tightening with unease. Tearing open the envelope, she withdrew a single sheet of paper. The message hit her like a punch to the gut.

"What happened to you was just the beginning. Ling will be next. Keep quiet or you both will be taken care of."

A gasp escaped her lips as the paper slipped from her trembling fingers. The room spun, and her breath came in shallow bursts. The words echoed in her mind, blending with the dark memories of her past—memories she had fought hard to bury, memories that refused to stay hidden.

Even without his name signed on the letter, she knew. The same twisted obsession that had haunted her years ago was resurfacing. But this time, it wasn't just her at risk. It was Ling.

Suddenly, the world narrowed to a single thought: Ling had to be safe. Panic surged through Orm's veins, overtaking every rational impulse. Without thinking, she grabbed her keys and rushed out of her apartment, her legs moving before her mind could fully process the fear that threatened to consume her.

The streets blurred around her as she ran toward the café where Ling worked, her heart hammering against her ribs. Every horrifying scenario played out in her mind—what if the letter wasn't just a threat? What if something had already happened?

When she finally reached the café, her chest was heaving, her body trembling with adrenaline and dread. She burst through the doors, her wild entrance drawing startled glances from the few patrons still seated. Ling stood behind the counter, closing out the last shift of the evening. The sight of her, so normal and untouched by the fear that had overtaken Orm, was both a relief and a gut-wrenching reminder of the danger.

Without a word, Orm rushed toward Ling, her eyes glistening with tears. She didn't stop, didn't explain. She simply pulled Ling into her arms, clutching her as if letting go would mean losing her forever.

Ling stiffened in surprise but quickly relaxed, sensing the urgency and pain in Orm's grip. "Orm? What's going on? What happened?" Her voice was soft but laced with concern.

Orm couldn't speak, couldn't find the words. Instead, she cupped Ling's face, tears streaming down her own, and began planting frantic kisses across her cheeks, her forehead, her lips—anywhere she could reach. Each kiss was an unspoken prayer of relief, each touch a desperate attempt to convince herself that Ling was real, here, alive.

Ling, though confused, let Orm cling to her, gently stroking her back. "Shh, I'm here," she whispered soothingly, brushing a tear from Orm's cheek. "I'm okay. You're scaring me. What happened?"

Finally, Orm pulled back, her eyes red and swollen from crying. Her voice was thick with emotion as she whispered, "I thought... I thought something had happened to you."

Ling's brow furrowed in concern, her thumb gently brushing Orm's jaw. "What are you talking about? Why would something happen to me?"

Orm bit her lip, her mind racing. She couldn't tell Ling about the letter. Not yet. She didn't want to pull her into this nightmare, didn't want to make her a target. But the fear of losing her was suffocating.