Ling looked down at her really looked and smiled slowly. "I already am," she said.
Rhea held Ling's face between her shaking hands, thumbs brushing her cheeks as tears spilled freely, dropping onto Ling's robe, onto her skin.
"I know this," Rhea said desperately, words tumbling over each other. "I know you're just angry. Nothing more. You're hurt, because I betrayed you first. Because of the revenge. That's why you're doing this."
Her breath hitched hard, chest rising unevenly. She shook her head again and again, as if denial could bend reality back into shape.
"But this isn't us," she whispered. "We aren't like this. We don't destroy each other like this."
Ling didn't pull away. She let Rhea hold her. Let her cry. Let her believe.
Rhea pressed her forehead against Ling's, sobbing quietly now. "We can make this better. Please. Say something. Say you're just angry and we'll fix it. I'll fix it. I don't care how long it takes."
Ling's eyes stayed open. Studying. Measuring. "You think this is anger?" Ling asked calmly.
Rhea nodded quickly. "Yes. Yes, of course it is. I deserve it. I lied to you. I broke you. I know that." Her voice cracked completely. "But I stayed. I chose you. I told you everything. That has to mean something."
Ling's lips curved not cruel yet, not soft either. Something in between. "You really believe love cancels consequences," Ling said.
Rhea swallowed. "I believe love tries." That almost did it.
Almost.
Ling lifted her hands then, not to comfort but to remove Rhea's grip. Gently. Methodically. One wrist at a time. She held them for a second longer than necessary, grounding Rhea's shaking without soothing it.
"I'm not doing this because I'm angry," Ling said evenly. "Anger burns fast. This is… precise."
Rhea's eyes widened slightly. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying you don't understand what you started," Ling replied. "You thought revenge was a moment. A reveal. A collapse." She leaned in just enough that Rhea could feel her breath. "For me, it's a process."
Rhea's voice dropped to a whisper. "Ling… you're scaring me."
Ling didn't deny it. Instead, she brushed Rhea's tears away with her thumb an intimate gesture that made Rhea lean in instinctively, seeking comfort where she always had.
"There," Ling murmured. "You do that every time."
Rhea froze. "Do what?"
"Run to me," Ling said softly. "Even now. Especially now."
Rhea shook her head weakly. "Because you're my safe place."
Ling smiled slow, knowing. "Yes," she said. "And that's why this works."
Rhea's breathing grew shallow. "Works for what?"
Ling leaned back slightly, giving Rhea just enough space to feel the loss of closeness. "You betrayed me when I trusted you blindly," Ling said. "So now I let you trust me completely."
Rhea's lips trembled. "That's not fair."
"No," Ling agreed. "It's balanced."
Tears streamed down Rhea's face again, heavier now. "I didn't want to break you. I loved you. I still love you."
Ling's gaze softened not with mercy, but with certainty.
"I know," she said quietly. "That's why you're still standing here, naked, crying, asking me to save you."
Rhea reached for her again, desperation overriding pride. "Then save me. Please."
Ling let her fingers brush Rhea's just barely.
"Not yet," Ling said.
Rhea surged forward and pinned Ling to the wall, palms flat against the cold surface on either side of Ling's shoulders. It wasn't strength that held Ling there. It was desperation.
Rhea was crying openly now. Not quiet tears the kind that shook her chest, ripped through her breath, made her voice crack when she tried to speak.
"Stop it," she begged, shaking her head hard as if that could undo the moment. "Please stop talking like this. You're not this person. You're not."
Her forehead pressed against Ling's collarbone. Her shoulders trembled. The room felt too small for the sound of her breathing.
"I know you're hurt," Rhea sobbed. "I know I broke you first. Punish me if you want — hate me, scream at me, but don't do this. Don't turn into someone who enjoys watching me fall apart."
Ling didn't struggle.
She didn't push Rhea away.
She let herself be pinned back flat to the wall, chin slightly lifted, eyes dark and alert. There was no fear there. Only control.
Rhea looked up at her, eyes red, wild. "Say something," she cried. "Say you're still you."
Ling smiled.
Not wide. Not loud.
Wicked in its restraint.
"You pinned me," Ling said calmly, almost amused. "And you're still the one begging."
Rhea flinched. "Ling—"
"You're screaming like I'm hurting you," Ling continued, voice smooth, deliberate. "But look at you. You ran to me. You trapped me. You're the one who can't let go."
Tears streamed faster down Rhea's face. "Because I love you."
Ling's smile sharpened. "I know," she said softly. "That's why this is so easy for you… and so hard for me."
Rhea's hands slipped slightly on the wall, strength draining out of her. "This isn't winning," she whispered. "This is destroying both of us."
Ling leaned in just enough that Rhea felt her breath close, intimate, inescapable.
"No," Ling murmured. "This is teaching you what it feels like to need someone who decides when you're allowed to feel safe."
Rhea's voice broke into a sob. "Please. I can't breathe like this."
Ling tilted her head, studying her the tears, the shaking, the way Rhea still hadn't stepped back.
"And yet," Ling said quietly, "you haven't let go."
Rhea's grip tightened for one desperate second then weakened, her hands sliding down as she collapsed forward, forehead against Ling's chest, crying without restraint.
Rhea lifted her head with shaking hands and caught Ling's face between her palms, fingers slick with tears.
She pulled her close again, so close their noses brushed, breath tangling, foreheads almost touching. Her eyes were red, swollen, desperate searching Ling's face like it held the only answer left.
"I'm sorry," Rhea sobbed, words breaking apart as soon as they left her mouth. "I swear I am. I swear I didn't mean to hurt you like that. I was wrong. I was stupid. I thought I was strong enough to fix everything, and I wasn't."
Her voice dropped, cracked, then rose again in panic.
"Don't leave me. Please. I can't... I can't do this without you."
Ling didn't move.
Rhea shook her head, tears falling faster now, her grip tightening like she was afraid Ling might vanish if she loosened even a little.
"I know you love me," Rhea whispered urgently. "You do. I felt it. I felt it last night. You don't do those things without love. You don't look at someone like that without love."
Her breath hitched violently. "Please don't pretend you don't. Don't erase everything we were."
Ling's expression didn't soften.
Slowly, deliberately, she lifted her hands and wrapped them around Rhea's wrists firm enough to stop the shaking. She lowered Rhea's hands away from her face inch by inch, breaking the closeness, breaking the illusion.
"No," Ling said.
Rhea froze. "No… what?"
Ling met her eyes fully now. There was no wicked grin this time. No teasing. Just clarity sharp and cold.
"No," Ling repeated. "You don't get to decide what I feel."
Rhea's lips trembled. "You're lying."
Ling shook her head slightly. "You're projecting."
Rhea's breath came fast and shallow. "Then why are you still here? Why didn't you push me away? Why didn't you stop me?"
Ling leaned in again close enough to be cruel her voice dropping low. "Because watching you beg tells me more than love ever could."
The words sliced clean.
Rhea gasped like she'd been struck. "Ling… please. I know you're angry. I know you're punishing me. But don't tell me you don't feel anything. That's not you."
Ling exhaled slowly, like she was explaining something simple to someone who kept missing the point. "You confuse intensity with love," Ling said. "You confuse safety with permanence."
Rhea shook her head violently. "That's not true. I gave you everything because I chose you."
"Yes," Ling replied. "And that's exactly why this works."
Rhea's knees weakened. She sagged closer, forehead brushing Ling's again despite herself, voice barely holding together.
"I'll do anything," she whispered. "Anything you want. Just don't take this away. Don't make me feel like last night was a lie."
Ling's eyes flickered not with guilt, but with recognition.
"It wasn't a lie," Ling said quietly. "It was a step."
Rhea swallowed hard. "A step toward what?"
Ling leaned back, creating space again, forcing Rhea to feel the distance.
"Toward you finally understanding what you did to me," Ling said. "How it feels to trust completely… and then realize the ground can disappear under your feet."
Tears streamed down Rhea's face unchecked. "I didn't want to destroy you."
"I know," Ling replied. "You wanted to win."
Rhea's voice broke into a sob. "I don't care about winning. I care about you."
Ling studied her for a long moment — the bare vulnerability, the shaking body, the way Rhea still hadn't stepped away even after every warning.
Then Ling spoke, voice low and controlled:
"If I loved you the way you want me to," she said, "I'd stop right now."
Rhea's eyes lit with fragile hope. "Then—"
"But I don't," Ling finished. "Not like that."
The hope collapsed.
"Please," she whispered one last time. "Don't leave me like this."
Ling didn't pull away.
She also didn't hold her.
She remained exactly where she was close enough to hurt, distant enough to destroy looking down at Rhea with calm certainty.
"You don't get abandoned," Ling said softly. "You get changed."
The moment Ling's words fully sank in, something inside Rhea collapsed.
Collapsed.
Her knees gave out again, but this time she didn't even try to stop it. Her palms slapped against the floor uselessly as if the ground itself had betrayed her too. Her chest started jerking, breath coming in sharp, painful bursts that wouldn't settle no matter how hard she tried.
"No," she whispered first.
Just that.
A denial so small it almost disappeared into the room.
Then louder, frantic, shaking her head violently like she could shake the truth loose.
"No no no—stop—stop saying it like that."
She dragged herself toward Ling on her knees, not caring how it looked, not caring that her body was exposed, not caring about pride or dignity or anything except not losing her.
"You're angry," Rhea cried, grabbing Ling's robe with trembling fingers. "You're just angry. Say that. Say you're angry. Don't say you won, don't say I'm ruined—please."
Her voice cracked completely.
"I didn't give you my body like a bargain," she sobbed. "I trusted you. I trusted you because I loved you. That's not the same thing."
Ling didn't move.
That's when panic turned feral.
Rhea clutched her own chest like it hurt to breathe, eyes wild, unfocused. "You knew about my trauma," she gasped. "You knew what touch means to me. You knew what it took for me to let you close."
Her laugh broke out suddenly hysterical, choking.
"Do you know how stupid that makes me?" she cried. "Do you know how much I hate myself right now?"
She stood abruptly, staggering, pointing at herself like she couldn't recognize the person she was seeing.
"I was careful with everyone," she shouted. "Everyone except you. I protected myself for years and I just—"
Her voice snapped into a scream.
"I just handed myself to you because you said you loved me."
Her anger exploded then hot, desperate, directionless.
She shoved Ling's shoulder once, weak but furious.