Rhea narrowed her eyes, offended immediately like a child accused of lying.
"I'm serious," she said, jabbing a finger weakly into Ling's chest. "No more Mira. No more anyone."
Ling's amusement deepened. "You're threatening me now?"
Rhea nodded solemnly, then frowned when her head spun.
"Yes," she declared. "I'll kill that lizard myself."
Ling actually laughed this time a real, low laugh that vibrated in her chest. She adjusted her grip on Rhea instinctively when Rhea wobbled closer.
"Lizard?" Ling repeated.
"Mira," Rhea said with absolute certainty. "She looks like one. Slippery. Always clinging."
Ling shook her head, still smiling. "You're impossible."
Rhea's face crumpled instantly, the smile vanishing.
"I'm serious," she insisted again, voice breaking just slightly. "Don't laugh. I don't share."
She lifted her hand again, this time grabbing Ling's collar clumsily, pulling her closer with surprising force for someone barely conscious.
"You're mine," Rhea repeated, slower now. "You don't get to sit there and let people touch you. Waist. Jaw. Nose."
Her words slurred together, jealousy spilling out unchecked.
"I saw. I hated it."
Ling stilled completely.
Rhea's forehead dropped to Ling's shoulder, voice muffled against her skin.
"I hated it so much," she whispered. "I drank more so I wouldn't see it anymore."
Ling's laughter died instantly.
She slid one hand up Rhea's back, firm, grounding, her palm splayed possessively between her shoulder blades.
"No one owns me except you," Ling said quietly.
Then, without hesitation, she added, "And I don't belong to Mira."
Rhea lifted her head again, eyes glassy, searching Ling's face like she was afraid the answer might change.
"Promise," she demanded softly.
Ling didn't answer with words.
She lowered her forehead to Rhea's, noses brushing, her grip tightening just enough to make it clear Rhea wasn't going anywhere.
Rhea smiled again small, victorious then yawned mid-smile.
"Good," she murmured. "Because I'd actually kill her."
She paused, then added seriously, "Not joking."
Ling huffed a quiet laugh against her hair. "Sleep. Before you plan a murder."
Rhea giggled, the sound dissolving into a soft hiccup of tears. She curled closer, fingers tangling back into Ling's hair, tugging gently.
"Don't leave," she whispered sleepily. "If I wake up and you're gone… I'll cry again."
Ling's jaw tightened.
"I'm here," she said, voice low, final. "I'm not moving."
Satisfied, Rhea relaxed completely, her body melting into Ling's arms. Her breathing slowed, fingers still clutching Ling's shirt like proof she was real.
Ling stared ahead into the dim room, holding her carefully, possessively aware of one brutal truth she couldn't escape:
Rhea only ever claimed her like this when she was drunk.
And Ling let her.
Every time.
Ling held Rhea close in the dim glow of the bedroom, the weight of her drunken confessions still hanging in the air like a fragile promise.
Rhea's body was limp against her, breaths coming in soft, uneven puffs, her fingers loosely clutching Ling's shirt as if afraid she'd vanish.
The room smelled faintly of whiskey and the lingering perfume from the club, but Ling's focus was solely on the girl in her arms, her heart twisting at the childish vulnerability spilling out of Rhea's lips.
Suddenly, Ling felt a warm wetness seeping through the sheets beneath them, spreading slowly across the bed.
Rhea stirred in her sleep, a small whimper escaping her, her legs shifting restlessly. Ling's eyes widened as realization dawned—Rhea had urinated right there, the alcohol stripping away her control in the haze of intoxication.
Her body went rigid, breath catching as she looked down instinctively. Rhea stirred slightly against her, brows knitting together in confusion, a soft whimper leaving her throat.
Ling's eyes widened.
"Oh god—"
The realization hit all at once.
She sat up carefully, propping Rhea against the pillows to assess the damage. The dark stain bloomed on the fabric, soaking through to her own clothes now, the sharp scent hitting her nostrils.
Rhea's eyes fluttered open at the movement, bleary and confused, tears welling up almost instantly as she registered what happened.
She looked down, then back at Ling, her face crumpling like a child's.
"N-no... I didn't mean to... now you hate me! I didn't know it would happen, Ling, I swear!" Her voice cracked into a sob, hands flying to cover her face, body curling in on itself as if to disappear.
She shifted again, half-awake, half-lost, and then she looked at Ling's face saw the pause, the stillness and her own expression collapsed instantly.
Tears flooded her eyes.
"I—" Rhea's voice cracked, childish and small. "I didn't know… I didn't know it would happen."
Her lip trembled violently.
Ling couldn't help it a soft laugh escaped her lips, warm and reassuring, not mocking. She pulled Rhea's hands away gently, cupping her tear-streaked cheeks.
"Hey, hey, no, baby, I'm not laughing at you. Well, maybe a little, but not like that. We just... gotta get you cleaned up. Come on, bathroom time."
She scooped Rhea up effortlessly, the smaller woman clinging to her neck like a koala, sniffling all the way.
As they reached the edge of the bed, Ling glanced back at the soaked sheets and chuckled again. "What was the need for a bathroom anyway? You did all the work right on my bed. Look at this mess."
"You hate me now," Rhea said, already crying. "I ruined everything. I'm disgusting. You're laughing, I know it—"
Ling blinked once.
Then she laughed softly, breathless, nothing sharp or mocking in it. Just… human.
"No," Ling said quickly, holding closer in her arms before she could spiral further. "Hey. No. Look at me."
Rhea's eyes flickered up, wet and terrified.
"I'm not laughing," Ling said gently. "And I don't hate you. Not even a little."
Rhea sniffed, unconvinced. "Then why did you say oh god…"
"Because I'm thinking about sheets," Ling replied honestly, then softened. "Not you."
That earned a shaky, almost hysterical sob-laugh from Rhea.
"I'm a mess," she cried. "I can't even control my own body."
Ling leaned forward and pressed her forehead to Rhea's, grounding her.
"You're drunk," she said calmly. "You were drugged. Your body's exhausted. This happens."
Rhea's fingers curled into Ling's shirt again like a child afraid of being left behind.
"I didn't do it on purpose," she whispered desperately.
"I know," Ling said immediately. "I know, baby."
The word slipped out naturally. She didn't pull it back.
Ling tightened her hold one arm under Rhea's knees, the other around her back, holding her with steady strength.
"We're going to the bathroom," Ling said matter-of-factly, like this was the most normal thing in the world. "We'll clean you up, change clothes, and then you'll sleep."
Rhea buried her face into Ling's neck, mortified. "Don't drop me."
"I won't," Ling said without hesitation.
As Ling carried her, Rhea's crying softened into quiet hiccups.
"Promise you won't tell anyone," Rhea murmured.
Ling didn't even slow her steps.
"There's nothing to tell." she laughed again.
Rhea went quiet at that.
Rhea pouted, her lower lip jutting out in full childish indignation, even as fresh tears spilled. She swatted at Ling's arm weakly, her hits more like playful taps.
"Stop it! It's not funny... you're mean!" But her voice wobbled, the pout turning into another sniffle, her cheeks flushed from embarrassment and booze.
Ling dodged the swats with a grin, carrying her into the opulent bathroom the kind only a trillionaire's mansion could boast, with marble floors, a massive soaking tub, and a rainfall shower behind frosted glass.
"See? My clothes are wet too because of you. Ewww, it smells. But guess what? I still love you, even like this."
She set Rhea down on the edge of the tub, leaning in to press a soft kiss to her forehead, then her pouty lips, tasting the salt of tears mixed with the sweetness of her breath.
Rhea's cries quieted into hiccups at the kiss, her arms wrapping around Ling's neck to pull her closer. "You... you do? Even when I'm all gross?"
"Especially then," Ling whispered, her voice husky with affection.
"…You're still here," Rhea said softly, almost surprised.
Ling glanced back at her, eyes steady.
"I told you," she said. "I'm not moving."
And for the first time that night, Rhea believed it.
She straightened up, fingers tugging at the hem of her own damp shirt.
Slowly, she peeled it off, revealing the toned lines of her abs and the black sports bra clinging to her skin.
Her trousers followed, sliding down her legs until she stood in just her briefs, the fabric hugging her hips. The air was cool against her skin, but Rhea's wide-eyed stare warmed her from the inside.
Now for Rhea.
She glanced at Rhea, one brow lifting faintly.
"Okay," Ling said calmly. "We need to change you."
Rhea blinked up at her, processing slow, eyes glossy.
"…Change?" she repeated.
Ling nodded. "Clothes. Wet. Uncomfortable."
Rhea stared at her for a long second, then nodded very seriously, like she'd just agreed to something extremely important.
"Yes," she said. "You can."
Ling smirked just a little. "You're very cooperative right now. Should I be worried?"
Rhea frowned, then smiled crookedly. "I trust you."
That wiped the smirk right off Ling's face.
She cleared her throat, suddenly careful again. "I'm going to help you, okay? You tell me if you don't want something."
Rhea nodded again, slower this time.
Ling reached for the hem of Rhea's dress but stopped deliberately. "Arms up?"
Rhea lifted them halfway, then tilted sideways, nearly losing balance.
Ling caught her immediately. "Easy."
Rhea giggled softly. "You're bossy."
Ling huffed a quiet laugh. "You like it."
Rhea squinted at her. "…Maybe."
Ling's hands gentle on the straps of the untamed allure mini dress, bare sternum and waist, brownish prints swirling like abstract temptations. "This has to go too, okay? Can't clean you up with it on."
Rhea nodded shyly, her drunken haze making her pliant, though a giggle bubbled up.
"O-okay... but don't look too much. I'm all... yucky now." She lifted her arms again like a child wanting help with a jacket, the dress slipping off to reveal her bare skin, curves soft and inviting.