Love could still vividly remember how their fans, the MuvMuvs, would always tease her about how she was the one who often initiated skinship with Milk. It was like a running joke within the fandom—Love would reach out to Milk naturally, and Milk would always respond without hesitation. It seemed so effortless back then, their chemistry both on and off-screen undeniable.
But as time passed, Love realized there were things she hadn't fully understood. She used to laugh and tell their fans not to ship them too seriously, treating it all as part of the fun. To her, it was just a joke, a way to keep their roles in perspective. After all, being a love team meant being shipped by fans was normal. She thought it was harmless, especially since their fans weren't overly obsessive and knew where the boundaries were.
What Love didn't know at the time was that those casual remarks had affected Milk more deeply than she ever realized. For Love, downplaying their romantic chemistry was just a way to maintain professionalism, to keep things light and avoid fueling rumors. But Milk had taken it personally. Love hadn't noticed how hurt Milk felt every time she made a joke about not wanting to be shipped romantically with her. To Milk, it felt like a rejection, as if Love couldn't stand the thought of them being seen as more than co-stars.
Love hadn't realized it was an issue until much later, when Milk finally opened up to her. Milk had confessed that it made her feel awkward and even hurt when Love would brush off their romantic dynamic, as though Love was distancing herself from the idea of them being together—even if just in the eyes of their fans. It had created an emotional gap between them that Love never intended.
But what Love hadn't realized was that the shipping, all of it—it had meant more to Milk than she had understood at the time. And now, years later, as the memories resurfaced, Love couldn't help but feel the weight of her own ignorance, the regret that maybe—just maybe—she had missed the signs. Milk had always been there, willing to say yes to everything, but Love had never thought to ask why.
Sitting alone in her apartment, Love's thoughts lingered on the past, replaying moments over and over in her mind. The more she thought about it, the clearer it became—how oblivious she had been to Milk's feelings, how wrapped up she had been in her own concerns, always trying to keep things simple, to keep them light.
Milk had always been her anchor, the steady presence that made everything easier. But Love had never realized how much she had relied on that—how much she had taken for granted. And now, two years had passed, and the distance between them felt insurmountable.
She knew it wasn't fair to be hurt by it. After all, she was the one who had pulled away. She was the one who had decided to leave the industry, to focus on her business, her own life. But hearing Milk reduce their years together to nothing more than "co-workers" felt like a slap. It was as if all those memories—everything they had shared—meant nothing now.
The memories kept flooding back—how Milk used to be her constant companion, how they had shared so much more than just screen time. Late-night conversations, inside jokes, moments of vulnerability that the public would never see. They weren't just co-stars, they were partners. At least, that's what it felt like to Love.
But after everything that had happened, Milk seemed to have moved on. Ciize was in her life now, and Love couldn't ignore the pang of jealousy she felt every time she heard her name. It was ridiculous—she had no right to feel this way, not after all the choices she'd made. Yet, the thought of Ciize staying over at Milk's place, being close to her in ways Love no longer could, gnawed at her. She hated it.
The guilt was unbearable. Milk had always been there for her, always so selfless, giving more than Love ever realized. And when it came time for Love to face her own feelings, she had run. Love had told herself it was for the best, that she was protecting what they had, afraid that crossing that line would ruin everything. But now, it all just felt like an excuse. An excuse born out of fear.
Love's phone buzzed again, but this time it wasn't work. It was a photo, a group selfie sent by Tu from their PPG+ gang's pizza night a few days ago. Everyone was smiling, but there is Love was, staring off into the distance, distracted and lost in her thoughts. She hadn't even realized it at the time, too consumed by thoughts of Milk and what could have been.
Tu sent a follow-up message. "Love, you, okay? You've been quiet since you saw Milk."
Love sighed. She typed a quick response, trying to sound casual. "Yeah, just been busy with work." The lie slipped out so easily, but she knew Tu wouldn't be fooled.
Seconds later, another message popped up. "Love, maybe it's time you talked to her like real talk. You've been holding this in for too long. It's not good for you."
Love stared at the screen, her heart pounding. She knew Tu was right, but the idea of confronting Milk after all these years terrified her. What would she even say? How could she explain everything she'd kept bottled up inside? And after seeing Milk again, would it even matter?
Panther meowed softly, as if sensing her inner confusion. Love gently stroked her cat, trying to calm herself down. The truth was, she had no idea what she would do next. Maybe she had waited too long, let too much time slip by. Milk had a new life now, and Love... Love was still stuck in the past.
But one thing was certain—the encounter with Milk had reignited feelings she could no longer ignore. It was as if seeing her again had torn open old wounds, and now Love was left standing in the aftermath, unsure of how to heal or where to go from here.
As she sat there, lost in her thoughts, a single question echoed in her mind: Is it too late to make things right?
Love's thoughts drifted to Milk's undeniable popularity, especially within their shared industry. Milk had always been a fan favourite, a magnet for attention wherever she went. And not just because of her charm and talent, but because people loved to pair her with anyone and everyone. Whether it was on-screen chemistry or a simple interaction, fans would instantly start shipping Milk with whatever girl she happened to be around.
The thought gnawed at Love more than she cared to admit.
She had always brushed it off, telling herself that it was just part of being in the spotlight, that these ships didn't really mean anything. But deep down, it bothered her. She'd seen countless comments, edits, and fan art, where Milk was paired with other actresses. It was all in good fun—innocent, even—but each time, Love couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy.
Because for a long time, she had thought she was different. She had believed, maybe even foolishly, that no matter how many people Milk was shipped with, she was the one Milk always chose. When the cameras were off, when the crowd was gone, it was Love who Milk would turn to. Love who Milk had opened up to, shared her real self with.
But now, with the distance between them and seeing how effortlessly Milk seemed to connect with others, Love couldn't help but wonder. Had she been wrong? Was she just another name in the long list of girls the fans loved to pair Milk with? Had she overestimated her place in Milk's life?
She sighed, theweight of those insecurities pressing down on her. It wasn't just the fans, itwasn't just the ships—it was the idea that she had never been able to claimMilk fully, to stand in front of the world and say with certainty that MilkPansa was hers. If she had been brave enough to do that from the beginning, maybe things would have turned out differently. Maybe the distance between them wouldn't feel so insurmountable now.
There were countless moments when she could have said something, done something, to show Milk just how much she meant to her. But every time, she'd held back, too afraid of crossing that line, too afraid of what it would mean for their partnership, their careers, their lives. So instead, she let things go unsaid, let her feelings sit in the shadows while the world created its own narratives around them.
And now, two years later, she was left wondering if those choices were what ultimately pushed Milk away. If her fear of risking their bond was what had cost her the chance to ever truly call Milk hers.
Love wiped a tear from the corner of her eye, the regret weighing heavily in her chest. She could have fought harder, she could have been more honest with herself—and with Milk. Maybe then, Milk wouldn't have slipped away into a world filled with other girls, other ships, other possibilities.
