beautiful mess

II

Orm was lying on her bed, her legs dangling off the edge as she stared at the ceiling, replaying Ling's text over and over again. Ling wanted her to come over for lunch. Ling. Inviting her. For lunch. It wasn't just any lunch—it was Ling cooking, and spaghetti of all things.

Orm couldn't help but grin, rolling onto her stomach, her phone still glowing with Ling's message—"I'll make spaghetti." Her thumb traced over the screen, as if touching the words could make them more real. She could practically see Ling, nervously typing that out, hesitating, then finally hitting send with the courage of alcohol. Orm knew that neither of them were exactly experts in the kitchen; they'd both learned that the hard way during the cooking shows they'd appeared on. But this invitation was special—it carried a weight that was impossible for Orm to ignore. It was personal. Intimate. And that left Orm's heart fluttering with excitement and a hint of something more.

As Orm sat up, hugging a pillow to her chest, her mind filled with questions. Is Ling gonna send her that she sent it wrong the next morning? Was this just a friendly lunch, or was it something more? Should she dress up? Would Ling care if she wore something nice? She glanced over at her closet, her fingers tapping restlessly against the pillow as her thoughts whirled. She pushed herself off the bed, rifling through her clothes.

She reached over to her dresser and picked up her glasses, a pair she rarely wore since she preferred contacts, especially when filming or going out. She slid them on, checking herself in the mirror. It felt a little strange to see herself like this—her hair pulled back, the glasses resting on her nose. She decided she'd wear them tomorrow, excusing it as a practical choice since they'd be cooking together. Besides, it would be easier to avoid any mishaps without contacts on. She left it at that, this has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that P'Ling likes people with glasses.

She spent some time debating what to bring. Flowers had crossed her mind, but she knew Ling was allergic. After some thought, she decided on a simple gift: oranges—Ling's favorite. It felt just right, casual but thoughtful, and hopefully something that would make Ling smile.

By the time the sun peeked through her blinds, Orm had barely slept. She was too wired, too excited to focus on anything other than the upcoming lunch. The giddiness in her chest refused to let her rest, and though she still felt a bit unsure about her outfit—she'd chosen a soft sweater that Ling had once complimented and a pair of comfortable jeans—the glasses felt like a secret piece of confidence. Would Ling pick up the clue?

The ride to Ling's apartment was a blur. Orm stared out of the window, her fingers absently brushing against the frame of her glasses. She was still trying not to overthink things, but each turn brought her closer to Ling's place, and her heart beat a little faster. As she approached the apartment building, she replayed their past kitchen disasters—the chaotic cooking shows they'd appeared on. The fans had loved those moments—the two of them fumbling, laughing, and ultimately proving they were strangers to the kitchen. She hoped today would be different, or at least less chaotic. Though, considering who they were, she doubted it.

-

When Orm arrived, her heart gave a small leap at the sight of Ling standing in the doorway, wearing a cozy white sweater that seemed to envelop her small frame. This is the one Ling wore to the workshop, she vividly remembers. Ling looked so much like herself—soft, serene, a bit nervous, her eyes slightly wide as they met Orm's gaze. Orm couldn't help but smile, her own nerves settling slightly at the sight of Ling.

"This place looks amazing," Orm said as she slipped off her sneakers, her gaze flicking around Ling's small apartment. The scent of jasmine hung in the air, and Orm noticed the neatly arranged ingredients on the counter, the diffusers humming softly in the background. She turned back to Ling and lifted the small bag of oranges with a sheepish grin. "I, uh, brought these. I know you like them."