By Candlelight

By Candlelight

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WpMetadataReadContenu pour adultesTerminé sam., avr. 12, 202517 m
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Fiction
Romance
One-Shot X LingOrm In the dim glow of a late-night photoshoot, models Lingling Kwong and Orm Kornnaphat find their on-camera chemistry igniting into a steamy and passionate off-camera connection. As the studio empties and the city sleeps, their stolen moments blur the lines between professional and personal.
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Prologue "Not all heartbreaks come from betrayal. Some grow from choices made in silence." They were happy once. Truly. Stupidly. Brilliantly happy. After the rivalry, the tension, the guarded hearts-Lingling and Orm had found each other. Two doctors, one heart. They stood in the dawn light outside the hospital, palms pressed, quiet smiles blooming. And for years, they made it work. Lingling soared in internal medicine-panels, journals, awards. Orm, ever proud, filmed her behind the scenes, smitten and steady. They shared shift schedules, socks, even toothbrushes. Fans adored their chemistry-Orm's teasing, Lingling's glares that always ended in a blush. But slowly, life crept in. Lingling picked rounds over date nights, grant proposals over cuddles. She missed anniversaries. Ignored Orm's soft pleas to rest, to breathe, to be there. Not out of malice. Just... neglect. Lingling believed love would hold on its own. But Orm was tired of holding it alone. "I miss us," Orm said once while Lingling typed away. "You never look at me the way you look at your career." Lingling didn't flinch. "My work matters." "And I don't?" Orm whispered. She didn't say no. She said nothing. That silence became a wound. Orm stopped filming at home. Stopped asking. Stopped hoping for a space in a life Lingling was building without her. Until one night, suitcase in hand, Orm stood by the door. "Do you even see me anymore, Ling?" Lingling didn't look up. That was all she needed. She left-no slammed doors, no last plea. Just a note on the fridge: "You chose your calling. I just wish you made room for me in it. - O." Lingling came home late. Read the note under harsh fluorescent light. And for the first time in years, she realized- She'd won every award. But lost her heart. Cross My Heart, Suture Yours: CODE RED

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