Short Stories-Lingorm

Waves of regret, Tides of love- II

After that hollow evening and the days that followed, Lingling couldn’t shake the feeling of emptiness left by Orm’s departure. It wasn’t just loneliness—it was a restlessness that grew with each passing day. She realized she had taken Orm’s presence for granted, pushed her away when all she wanted was to be near her. Lingling knew that no amount of waiting would bring Orm back. She had to find her.

So, Lingling left the beach town for the first time in years, following a vague trail left by Orm’s previous travels. She visited bustling cities, tranquil villages, and silent mountains, always hoping she’d catch a glimpse of that familiar face. Months went by before she finally found Orm again, in a quiet coastal town several miles away.

When Lingling saw her, she felt a surge of emotion—a mix of relief, excitement, and an ache of regret. But Orm didn’t seem to notice her; she was sitting by the shore, gazing out at the waves. Lingling hesitated, feeling an unfamiliar fear. She had no idea how to start or what to say. She simply knew she needed to be there, to make things right.

The next day, she found her chance. Lingling approached Orm, her heart pounding, and quietly sat beside her, close enough for Orm to feel her presence but still far enough that she wouldn’t seem intrusive. Orm glanced at her, her expression unreadable, and then looked away, pretending as if Lingling wasn’t even there.

Lingling felt a sting of pain, but she understood. She had ignored Orm, dismissed her affection, and now she was feeling the weight of that mistake. Determined not to give up, she kept showing up. Lingling would be there whenever Orm went to the market, silently following her footsteps as she explored the town. Sometimes, she would leave small tokens—flowers, letters, little shells—outside the door of Orm’s inn, hoping Orm would see them. But Orm, her heart hardened by the memory of Lingling’s indifference, brushed it all aside.

Yet, Lingling didn’t stop. Her gestures grew bolder, but she didn’t know how to bridge the chasm she’d created. So she decided to follow Orm out to a small cove, a spot where Orm often went to find peace. Lingling waited until she was alone with her, gathering her courage, and finally spoke.

“Orm,” she started, her voice wavering. “I… I made a mistake. I thought I didn’t need anyone, that I could live my life without letting anyone get close.” She paused, looking down, ashamed. “But you showed me what it’s like to feel truly seen. And then you left… and I realized I’d been lying to myself. I miss you.”

Orm looked at her, visibly affected but still guarded. “Miss me?” she replied, her voice cool. “You never wanted me around, Lingling. You didn’t care when I was there. Why now?”

Lingling’s eyes softened with sadness. “I was scared, Orm. I didn’t know how to let you in… and by the time I realized how much I needed you, you were already gone. I can’t change the past, but I want to try… if you’ll let me.”

For the first time, Orm saw a vulnerability in Lingling’s eyes that mirrored her own feelings of hurt and longing. She wanted to trust her, but the pain still lingered. “I don’t know if I can trust you, Lingling,” she said quietly.

Lingling nodded, swallowing back tears. “Then I’ll wait,” she whispered. “I’ll be here… as long as it takes.”

And so, Lingling stayed, offering small, patient gestures day by day. She no longer pushed, no longer demanded Orm’s attention. Instead, she let her presence be a quiet, constant reminder that she was willing to work to earn back Orm’s trust. Slowly, Orm began to let her walls down, little by little, until one evening, under the stars, she finally smiled at Lingling—a genuine smile that showed Lingling was forgiven, and that maybe, just maybe, they could begin again.