Between Us || LINGORM

Chapter 29: Breaking Point

Orm woke to an empty dorm room. Lingling's bed was neatly made, her side of the room spotless as always. The silence felt heavier than usual, and Orm's chest tightened as she glanced at the clock. 8:17 AM. Lingling was usually up early, but the absence felt deliberate.

She sighed, dragging herself out of bed. Last night's fight still weighed on her. The tension between them was uncharted territory, and for the first time, Orm didn't know how to bridge the gap.

Lingling sat at the campus café, stirring her untouched tea. Her planner lay open on the table, but the usual comfort it brought was absent. She had left the dorm early, unable to face Orm's silence. Lingling hated this feeling of uncertainty, of being so out of control.

Her phone buzzed with a message from Milk:
Milk: Hey, you okay? You look off today.

Lingling hesitated before typing back:
Lingling: I'm fine. Just tired.

She wasn't fine, though. Lingling's mind kept replaying Orm's words from last night: "I'm your girlfriend, not your project."

Was that how Orm saw her? Was she really so controlling that she made Orm feel like a task to be managed? The thought stung more than she wanted to admit.

By the time Orm made it to her first class, she felt like she was dragging herself through molasses. View noticed immediately, nudging Orm during the lecture.

"What's wrong with you? You look like you didn't sleep."

Orm gave a half-hearted shrug. "Ling and I fought last night."

"Seriously?" View's eyebrows shot up. "What happened?"

Orm sighed, running a hand through her hair. "She thinks I'm not serious enough about our future, and I feel like she doesn't trust me to do anything right."

View frowned. "That sounds rough. But, Orm... you know how Ling is. She's got her walls up for a reason."

"I know," Orm said quietly. "I just wish she'd let me in without trying to control everything."

View didn't press further, but her concerned glance lingered.

The day dragged on. Orm and Lingling avoided each other, sticking to their own routines. Orm found herself wandering the campus after class, unsure of where to go. She ended up at the music room, a place she rarely visited but knew Lingling loved.

The guitar Lingling often played sat in the corner, untouched. Orm hesitated before walking over to it, running her fingers lightly over the strings. She remembered the first time she had heard Lingling play, how captivated she had been by the raw emotion Lingling poured into her music.

Orm closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. "What am I doing?" she whispered to herself.

Lingling was in the gym, going through her Pilates routine. The familiar movements usually calmed her, but today, they felt mechanical, empty. Her mind kept drifting back to Orm, to the way she had looked last night—angry, hurt, and distant.

Milk's voice startled her out of her thoughts. "Ling, you're gonna tear something if you keep pushing like that."

Lingling stopped, exhaling sharply. "I'm fine."

Milk crossed her arms, unconvinced. "You're not fine. Talk to me."

Lingling hesitated. Milk was one of the few people she trusted, but opening up wasn't easy. Finally, she said, "Orm and I fought. I... I think I pushed her too hard."

Milk raised an eyebrow. "That's rare for you to admit."

"I just... I don't know how to let go," Lingling admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm so used to being in control of everything, but with Orm, it's different. I can't control her, and it scares me."

Milk softened. "Ling, you don't have to control everything to keep it together. Sometimes, you just have to trust that the people you care about won't let you fall."

Lingling nodded, her throat tight. "I'm just... not used to that."

That evening, Orm returned to the dorm early, hoping to talk to Lingling. She rehearsed what she wanted to say, but when she opened the door, Lingling was already there, sitting at the table with her guitar in hand.

The sight of Lingling playing always caught Orm off guard. Her poised demeanor softened, replaced by something raw and unfiltered. Lingling's fingers moved effortlessly over the strings, the melody filled with longing and regret.

When Lingling looked up, their eyes met. Orm swallowed hard, stepping inside and closing the door behind her.

"We need to talk," Orm said softly.

Lingling set the guitar aside, nodding. "We do."

They sat across from each other, the air thick with tension.

"I've been thinking," Lingling began, her voice steady but quiet. "About what you said. About trust."

Orm didn't interrupt, letting Lingling continue.

"I didn't mean to make you feel like I don't trust you," Lingling said, her gaze fixed on the table. "It's just... I've always been the one who has to hold everything together. It's hard for me to let go of that."

Orm's chest tightened. She reached across the table, covering Lingling's hand with her own. "I get that, Ling. I do. But I'm not asking you to let go completely. I'm asking you to let me help carry the weight. We're supposed to be a team."

Lingling looked up, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I know. I just... I don't want to lose you."

"You're not going to lose me," Orm said firmly. "But we can't keep going like this. We need to find a balance—where we both feel heard and respected."

Lingling nodded, her fingers tightening around Orm's. "I'll try. I promise."

"And I'll try to take things more seriously," Orm added. "I want this to work, Ling. I want us to work."

For the first time in days, Lingling smiled—a small, tentative smile, but genuine. "Me too."

They spent the rest of the evening talking, laying everything out on the table. Lingling admitted her fears of vulnerability, while Orm shared her frustration at feeling underestimated.

By the time they climbed into bed, the tension between them had eased. Lingling pulled Orm close, resting her head on Orm's shoulder.

"I'm sorry," Lingling murmured.

"Me too," Orm replied, pressing a kiss to Lingling's forehead.

As they lay there in the quiet, the cracks between them didn't feel so daunting anymore. They weren't perfect, but they were willing to fight for each other. And that was enough.