Ink & Intentions (Lingorm)

22. The Art Of Us

The morning sunlight streamed through the dorm window, painting the walls with golden warmth. Ling and Orm sat at their usual spots in the small kitchenette, sharing a quiet breakfast. Orm was halfway through her toast, stealing glances at Ling as she scrolled lazily through her phone.

Ling was in her usual oversized sweater, her hair falling loose over her shoulders. She looked comfortable, natural—and impossibly captivating. Orm fidgeted with her fork, feeling the weight of the question she'd been rehearsing in her head all morning.

"Hey," Orm started, her voice breaking the quiet.

Ling looked up, eyebrows raised in mild curiosity. "Yeah?"

Orm hesitated, then pushed her plate aside. "I, uh... I need to ask you something."

Ling set her phone down, the hint of a smile tugging at her lips. "What's up? You're not dying, are you?"

Orm rolled her eyes, her usual sarcasm kicking in. "No, but thanks for the concern. Seriously, though. I have this new art project coming up, and..." She paused, scratching the back of her neck. "I need a model. Would you—would you be up for it?"

Ling blinked, her expression shifting from playful to surprised. "You want me to model for you?"

"Yeah," Orm said, leaning forward. "It's not a big deal or anything. Just... I've been thinking about it, and you'd be perfect for what I have in mind."

Ling frowned, crossing her arms. "Orm, I'm not really the 'model' type. You know that, right?"

Orm smirked. "What's that supposed to mean? You've got everything I need for this—trust me."

Ling laughed nervously, glancing away. "I don't know. This sounds kind of... I don't know, weird."

Orm tilted her head, softening her tone. "It's not weird. I promise. I just think you'd be great. And, you know, it's me. You don't have to be self-conscious or anything."

Ling glanced back at Orm, her lips pursed in thought. She could see the sincerity in Orm's expression, the quiet determination that always surfaced when she was talking about her art.

After a long pause, Ling sighed. "Okay. Fine. I'll do it. But only because you'll probably pester me until I say yes."

Orm's grin was instant, lighting up her face in a way that made Ling's chest tighten. "You won't regret it. I promise."

That afternoon, Ling found herself in Orm's room, sitting awkwardly on the edge of the bed as Orm set up her easel. A stack of charcoal pencils sat beside a fresh sketchpad, and the faint scent of paint lingered in the air.

"So, what do I do?" Ling asked, fidgeting with the hem of her sweater.

Orm turned to her, smiling gently. "Just be yourself. Sit however feels natural. Don't overthink it."

"That's easy for you to say," Ling muttered, but she sat down on the stool Orm had set up by the window. She crossed her legs, then uncrossed them, glancing around nervously.

Orm laughed softly. "Relax. You're doing fine already."

Ling shot her a look. "I haven't done anything yet."

"Exactly." Orm grabbed her sketchpad, settling into the chair across from Ling. Her gaze softened as she studied her, charcoal pencil poised in hand. "Okay. Just stay like that for a bit."

Ling tried her best to stay still, but she could feel Orm's eyes on her, tracing every curve and angle of her face. It was unnerving and intimate, as though Orm could see parts of her she wasn't ready to share.

After a few minutes, Ling shifted in her seat. "So... why me?"

Orm glanced up from her sketchpad, her eyes meeting Ling's. "Why not you?"

Orm smirked, walking closer to her with a sketchbook in hand. "I'm not looking for perfection. I'm looking for someone who feels real. And that's you."

Ling's heart skipped at the sincerity in Orm's voice, the way her gaze never wavered. It was different. Ling had always admired Orm's art, but now she was seeing it from a different angle—through the lens of Orm's passion, and something else that was beginning to feel much more personal.

The session went on for what felt like hours. Orm would ask Ling to shift her position slightly, her eyes tracing the curve of Ling's shoulders, the way her eyes sparkled even when she wasn't trying. Each time Ling would move, Orm would step closer, adjusting her to make sure the angle was just right. The tension between them, once comfortable and familiar, had become something entirely new—something charged. Every time Orm's hand brushed against Ling's skin, it sent an electric shock through her, something she couldn't ignore.

Ling couldn't explain it, but there was something about the way Orm was looking at her now. It wasn't just admiration for her beauty as a model, but something deeper. She could feel Orm's gaze on her, the weight of it pressing down like a soft, invisible force. It made her feel exposed, vulnerable.

Orm took a step back, eyes scanning Ling's figure as she adjusted the lighting slightly. When she looked back at Ling, their eyes locked, and for a second, everything else seemed to fade. The hum of the room, the sounds of the city outside—they all disappeared.

Ling felt her heart race, and before she could stop herself, she blurted, "Orm, why did you ask me to do this?"

Orm hesitated for a moment, her gaze softening. She walked closer to Ling, taking the seat next to her on the edge of the chair. "Because you're... everything I want to capture. Everything I want to show the world."

Ling's breath caught in her throat, her heart pounding faster now. She opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out. She didn't know how to respond. Instead, she simply looked into Orm's eyes, searching for something.

Orm slowly reached out, her hand brushing against Ling's. It was so soft, so tentative, yet it held so much weight.

And then, without warning, Orm leaned in, closing the space between them. Her lips hovered just above Ling's, waiting for her to pull away, to stop her.

But Ling didn't.

Instead, she held her breath, her eyes fluttering shut as Orm's lips brushed against hers, just barely at first. Ling's heart skipped, her body leaning into the kiss as Orm deepened it slowly, giving Ling time to adjust, to realize that this was real.

Ling's hands moved instinctively, finding Orm's waist, pulling her closer. The kiss was soft, gentle, but with a hunger that neither could deny. The world outside disappeared again, leaving just the two of them, wrapped in the warmth of the moment.

When they finally pulled away, both of them were breathless. Ling's fingers lingered on Orm's cheek, her touch shaky but warm.

"Orm..." she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

Hello my lovely readersss, as promised i'm trying to keep updating more often. Thanks for all the love you've showed till now and keep showing itt🫶🏻

Also do you guys think the story is moving too slow? Let me know in the comments!