faded echoes ¦ sk x ks

SC: The Night Became Us

It was the 24th of December — the wind was cool, the ocean was glassy, and the sky possessed the kind of still enchantment that only winter evenings could invoke.

Ling stood on the beach, eyes on the horizon as waves softly caressed the sand. The ocean wind caressed her hair, bringing with it a blend of excitement and apprehension. Her fingers nervously drummed in her coat pockets, attempting to calm the excitement racing in her chest.

Tonight was not an ordinary night. It was the night she had relived in her mind a hundred times.

Behind her, quiet footsteps cracked on the pebbled beach. Orm was coming — quietly, slowly — her eyes never wavering from Ling's outline. The younger woman huddled her arms around herself, both from cold and from the maelstrom of feelings inside. The wind ruffled her hair across her face, but she didn't mind. All she could see, all she wanted to see was Ling.

Her best friend from childhood.

The woman she had quietly loved for years.

Ling hadn’t yet turned around, but a knowing smile tugged at her lips. She could sense her — like gravity — pulling her heart closer.

"You’re here," she whispered, finally glancing over her shoulder.

Orm’s pout was instant, her lower lip jutting out in dramatic protest. "I missed you, Ling. It feels like it’s been five years."

Ling laughed, her tone as warm as honey. "We met last last week, Orm."

"Nevertheless," Orm grumbled, holding onto Ling's arm like a child craving attention. "I didn't want to intrude… but the day was so dull without you."

Ling merely shook her head, a warm smile playing on her lips.

Without speaking, she took Orm's hand and guided her to the car parked outside. Blinking, Orm was perplexed but trusting, allowing herself to be led through the sand.

And there it was — the soft golden light of fairy lights blinking at the end of the car, a picnic spread laid out under the stars: a woven mat, a basket of home-cooked dishes, and the promise of something tender and unforgettable.

"You did these?" Orm gasped, her eyes wide in wonder.

Ling smiled, her eyes sparkling. "I thought we could have Christmas Eve together. Just us. I prepared your favorites. I hope you like it."

Orm's eyes went soft, overwhelmed by the gesture. "I love it, Ling," she whispered, moved to the core.

The basket contained a warmly prepared spread: fragrant Pad Thai, rich green curry, and a Thai-spiced potato salad. The aromas alone were enough to make Orm's stomach soar with delight — and not just from hunger.

"You really do know everything I love," she said, her voice low with affection.

"Of course I do," Ling replied, handing her a plate. "Taste it. Tell me what you think."

Orm took a bite of the curry and instantly broke into a smile so wide that it could’ve lit up the coastline. Her giggle followed — that soft, airy laugh that always made Ling’s heart melt.

Each reaction, each glint in Orm's eyes, brought the older woman a little closer.

"You're such a great cook," Orm bubbled as they finished eating, assisting Ling with the cleanup.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it," Ling said with her signature eye-smile — the one Orm secretly loved the most.

They sat in comfortable silence for a bit, allowing the wave sounds and whispering wind to enfold them like a caress. Then, with hands clasped, Ling quietly guided Orm closer to the water.

It was nearly midnight. With every step, Ling's pulse became more thunderous in her ears.

Orm sensed the change. She came to a halt and turned to her, concern creasing her forehead. "Ling, are you alright? You look on edge. Is there something that matters?"

Ling regarded her, moonlit eyes hiding secrets. "I'm fine," she murmured. "Just… overwhelmed, I suppose."

Orm's lips pouted a little once more, but she didn't push. Ling squeezed her hand, comforting her, and they walked on — their silence now not hollow but full of waiting.

And they just stopped. At the end of the ocean.

At midnight, fireworks burst out all over the sky — colorful, blinding, as if the universe itself was partying. Orm gasped, her eyes wide with amazement. But when she looked at Ling, the woman wasn't gazing up at the sky.

She was gazing at her.

"Ling…" Orm breathed, her voice shaking.

Ling smiled out of glassy eyes. "I've been practicing this for a week," she whispered, her voice little more than the wind. "And I wanted to tell you this since the day I figured out…"

Orm's breath caught in her throat. Her lips parted, but no sound emerged. Her heart pounded in her chest — not with nerves but sheer, unadulterated joy.

"I love you, Orm," Ling replied, her tone firm but dripping with emotion. "More than a friend. More than a sister. I love you in every way I never thought I'd be brave enough to say."

Without hesitation, Orm wrapped her arms around her and held her close, tears streaming down her face.

"You don't know how long I've prayed for this," she whispered into her shoulder. "This is the best Christmas ever."

The sky was full of sparkling stars above them, but the brightest thing that evening was what they saw in each other's eyes — a promise of something real, something eternal.

Something that started, officially, on Christmas Eve when the stars coincided.