My lover is my boss (LingOrm)

28 - Too Loud?

Ling's pov

The next morning, I woke up tangled with Orm, her warm body pressed against mine under the weight of soft, cozy sheets. The sun was just beginning to peek through the curtains, casting a golden glow across the room, highlighting the gentle rise and fall of her breathing. Her head rested against my chest, her arm draped across my waist as if to keep me close even in her sleep. For a moment, I allowed myself to simply breathe her in—the light scent of her hair, the warmth radiating from her skin, the way her legs intertwined with mine as if they belonged there.

My hand brushed over her shoulder, feeling the soft curve of her skin beneath my fingertips. A quiet, content smile crept onto my face, a rare, unguarded expression I wouldn't dare show anyone else. Just as I was savoring this peaceful moment, a sharp knock sounded at the door. My heart dropped. Instinctively, I tensed, my first thought being that it must be some royal assistant of hers or, god forbid, her mother. I shifted carefully, trying not to wake Orm, and got out of bed.

I quickly pulled on a loose shirt and some pants, the usual confidence in my movements disrupted by an annoying sense of intrusion. I slipped into the living room and opened the door, finding one of Orm's neighbors—a cheery young woman whose name I could never remember—standing there with a bright smile.

"Hey, Ling! You got the rent charge paper? I haven't received it yet," she asked, completely unaware that she'd just interrupted something far more enjoyable than rent discussions.

"Yeah, I've got it." I replied, a little impatiently, walking over to the table and grabbing the paper. I handed it to her, managing a polite nod. "I found it in the inbox by the parking lot."

"Oh, got it! Thanks a lot. I'll check there then." She beamed, giving me a quick wave before heading off to the elevator. I shut the door, exhaling a little sigh of relief. I turned back toward the bedroom, where Orm was now sitting up, her blanket wrapped loosely around her shoulders, her hair a beautiful mess, and her sleepy eyes barely open. She looked adorable, like she'd just woken up in a world where nothing could rush her.

"Baby," I called out, unable to resist the urge to be close to her again. I walked over to the bed and sat down beside her, running my fingers through her wild, tangled hair.

"What?" she murmured, her voice thick with sleep as she tilted her head towards me, a lazy smile tugging at her lips.

"Next time, let's do this at my place," I suggested, slipping an arm around her blanketed body and pulling her closer.

"Why?" she asked, her fingers finding their way to my hair, absentmindedly caressing it.

"Because your neighbor just called me Ling," I said, my tone casual but my eyebrow raised as if to drive the point home.

"And... what's the problem?" she asked, her brows furrowing in confusion, still half-asleep.

"I never told her my name," I replied, enjoying the moment her eyes widened in realization.

"Oh... oh no! Was I too loud?" she asked, her cheeks flushing a beautiful shade of pink as the understanding dawned on her. I smirked, unable to resist teasing her.

"Kind of," I replied, reaching out to run my fingers down her spine, feeling her shiver under my touch. She dropped her face into her hands, clearly embarrassed, but I wasn't done teasing yet.

Her voice, muffled by her hands, confessed, "My butt is aching."

A chuckle escaped me, and I wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. "But you loved that yesterday," I reminded her, my hand moving to her lower back, where I started to gently massage away the soreness. Her face turned an even deeper shade of red as she pressed it into the pillow, clearly too embarrassed to look at me.

"Shut up," she mumbled against the pillow, making me laugh even more. "I can't believe you have the nerve to bring it up."

"I can't believe you came with just slaps," I teased, trying to pull the pillow away from her face. "So you really do like my aggressive side, huh?"

She buried her face further, but her muffled response reached me, "I like your aggressive side... in bed."

"Good to know." I finally succeeded in freeing her face from the pillow and planted a soft kiss on her lips, savoring the way she leaned into me despite her embarrassment. The teasing wasn't just fun; it was a way to savor how completely disarmed she looked with her guard down.

"Me too, but I'm exhausted," she pouted, looking up at me with wide, sleepy eyes, like she wasn't fully ready to face the day.

I smiled, tilting my head at her. "You are?" My tone was playful, and I knew exactly how exhausted she was.

She groaned, leaning her head back. "So... I have to go to work today?"

"No," I replied, my tone softening as I placed a kiss on her forehead. "You don't have any obligations today other than to rest." My words seemed to lift a weight off her shoulders, and she leaned forward, pressing a grateful kiss to my lips.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice filled with a rare vulnerability that I found myself cherishing. She seemed so content, so happy, and in that moment, I knew I'd do anything to keep that look on her face, even if it meant dealing with nosy neighbors and endless teasing.

We stayed there in bed, wrapped up in each other, our conversation drifting into lazy talk about plans for the weekend, the new book she'd been reading, and the club she'd wanted to visit with her friends. She talked about it all with an innocent excitement that I hadn't seen often—she was always so composed, so refined. But here, in her rumpled bed with her hair tousled and her cheeks flushed, she was just Orm. She was my Orm, the woman who could be playful and vulnerable, stubborn and sweet all at once.

As we lay there, my fingers traced absent patterns on her arm, and I couldn't resist the urge to lean over and capture her lips again, losing myself in the softness, in the warmth. This, right here, was a rare kind of intimacy that I never knew I needed. With Orm, I felt both completely disarmed and more myself than I had in years.

Eventually, she settled back into my arms, sighing contentedly as she nuzzled closer. "So... do you think your place would really be that much better?" she asked with a soft, teasing smile.

I grinned, pulling her tighter. "Less nosy neighbors, better coffee, and no rent discussions to interrupt us," I murmured against her hair.

"Fine," she agreed, yawning as she buried her face against my chest, her fingers tracing small circles on my back. "Next time, it's your place."

"Next time," I promised, feeling a strange thrill in my chest at her words. It was something more than just a one-time fling; it was an unspoken promise that there would be a 'next time,' and that was all I needed to hear.

So there we lay, tangled up in each other, basking in the quiet, stolen moments that felt like they belonged to just us—two people who'd found something unexpected and were willing to fight to keep it, nosy neighbors, aches, and all.