Chapter 7 One Room #3
Orm's heart skipped.
She wasn't sure whether Ling realised what she had said.
Perhaps she did.
Perhaps she didn't.
Orm looked toward the wall of pillows.
"That's generally how sharing a room works."
Ling laughed.
"True."
Orm smiled.
"Goodnight."
"Goodnight."
Neither slept.
?
Around one in the morning, Orm's pillow slipped from beneath her head and landed on the floor.
She stared at it.
Then sighed.
She reached down.
It was too far.
Before she could move, Ling sat up.
"What happened?"
"My pillow."
"I'll get it."
"No, it's fine."
Ling reached over the pillow wall anyway.
She picked it up.
Orm reached for it at exactly the same moment.
Their fingers touched.
Both froze.
It was a tiny contact.
Barely anything.
Yet the air seemed to change.
Orm looked at Ling.
Ling looked at her.
Neither pulled away immediately.
Then Orm withdrew her hand.
"Thanks."
Ling nodded.
"You're welcome."
Orm placed the pillow beneath her head.
Neither spoke.
Then Orm whispered,
"Rule three."
Ling smiled.
"No unnecessary touching."
"Exactly."
"You touched my hand."
"Accidentally."
"Still happened."
Orm laughed softly.
"Are you keeping score?"
"Maybe."
"You're ridiculous."
"Goodnight, Orm."
"Goodnight."
?
At two thirty, Orm gave up trying to sleep.
She sat against the headboard and looked through the window. The river was dark except for the scattered reflections of city lights, and the sight was strangely peaceful.
A few minutes later, Ling sat up.
"You're awake."
"So are you."
Ling looked toward the window.
"It's beautiful."
Orm nodded.
"It is."
For several moments, neither said anything.
Without the office around them, the room felt different. There were no colleagues watching.
No cameras.
No clients.
No one waiting for them to perform.
For the first time since their arrangement had begun, there was no reason to pretend. That thought should have made Orm comfortable. Instead, it made her nervous.
"You were good today," Ling said.
Orm turned toward her.
"At the presentation?"
"Yes."
"Thank you."
"You deserved the praise."
Orm looked down.
"You really think so?"
"I wouldn't say it if I didn't."
Orm smiled.
"When I first came to Veyra, I thought you hated my work."
Ling looked genuinely surprised.
"I didn't."
"You criticised my proposal."
"I criticised the proposal."
"Same thing."
"No."
Ling shook her head.
"I criticised it because I knew you could make it better."
Orm stared at her.
"You never said that."
"You never asked."
Orm laughed quietly.
"There it is again."
"What?"
"That answer."
Ling smiled.
"You should stop asking questions you already know the answer to."
Orm looked at her.
"I don't know your answers."
"Maybe you're starting to."
The words lingered.
Orm looked away.
After a moment, she said quietly, "I'm glad I stayed."
Ling's expression softened.
"So am I."
Orm looked at her.
Neither spoke.
The moment felt dangerously honest.
So Orm broke it.
"We should sleep."
Ling nodded.
"Yes."
They both lay down.
The pillow wall remained between them.
But somehow, it didn't feel as necessary as it had before.
?
Morning came far too quickly.
At six forty-five, the alarm went off.
Orm groaned and buried her face in her pillow.
Ling reached over and switched it off.
"Morning."
"Too early."
"We have a presentation."
"I know."
"You said you wanted to prove yourself."
Orm opened one eye.
"You're using my own words against me."
"Yes."
"That's cruel."
"Get up."
Orm sat up reluctantly.
Then she looked at the bed.
The pillow wall was gone.
Completely.
Several pillows were scattered around the room.
One was on the floor.
Orm stared.
"Ling."
"Hm?"
"The wall."
Ling looked.
She laughed softly.
"We failed."
"Completely."
"Apparently."
Orm shook her head.
"Neither of us noticed."
Ling looked at her.
"Maybe we stopped needing it."
Orm's smile faded.
The sentence sounded harmless.
It wasn't.
She looked away.
"Breakfast?"
Ling nodded.
"Breakfast."
?
P'Cherry took one look at them when they entered the restaurant.
"You didn't sleep."
Orm nearly choked on her coffee.
"We did."
P'Cherry raised an eyebrow.
"No, you didn't."
Fluke appeared behind her, looking entirely too amused.
"You both look exhausted."
Orm glared.
"Good morning to you too."
Khun Dew joined them.
"How was the room?"
Orm immediately looked at Ling.
Ling calmly poured herself coffee.
"Fine."
"Fine?" Fluke repeated.
"Fine," Ling said again.
Orm sat down.
"Perfectly fine."
P'Cherry smiled.
"Did you two manage?"
Orm looked at her.
"We're professionals."
Fluke coughed.
"Of course."
Orm narrowed her eyes.
"Don't."
"I'm not saying anything."
"You were about to."
"I value my life."
Ling laughed.
Orm turned toward her.
"Don't encourage him."
"I didn't."
"You laughed."
"That's not encouragement."
"It is."
Ling smiled.
Orm shook her head and picked up her coffee. For a few minutes, everyone returned to discussing the day's schedule. Then Orm noticed Ling looking at her.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"You're staring."
Ling smiled.
"You were right."
"About what?"
"You're surviving me."
Orm laughed.
"Unfortunately."
Ling's eyes softened.
"Fortunately."
Orm stopped.
She looked at Ling.
Ling simply took another sip of coffee.
Orm couldn't tell whether the word had been intentional.
She didn't ask.
Not yet.
?
The presentation that morning went exceptionally well.
Orm stood beside Ling in front of the regional partners and spoke with a confidence she hadn't possessed when she first walked through Veyra's doors.
When one of the executives challenged a creative decision, she didn't freeze or immediately look toward Ling for help; instead, she explained her reasoning, acknowledged the concern and offered an alternative that preserved the heart of the concept.
Ling didn't interrupt.
She didn't need to.
She simply watched.
And when Orm finished, Ling gave her a small nod.
It was almost invisible.
Orm saw it anyway.
That tiny gesture meant more than she wanted it to.
After the meeting, they walked toward the car together.
"You did well," Ling said.
Orm smiled.
"You already told me that."
"I know."
"You're becoming generous with compliments."
"Don't get used to it."
Orm laughed.
"I won't."
They reached the car.
Before getting inside, Orm looked at Ling.
"About last night..."
Ling waited.
Orm hesitated.
"I think we survived."
Ling smiled.
"I think we did."
"No more hotel mistakes."
"Agreed."
"No more one-bed situations."
"Agreed."
"No more pillow walls."
Ling laughed.
"Definitely agreed."
Orm smiled.
Then, because she couldn't resist, she added, "Unless you get jealous again."
Ling gave her a look.
"I'm not jealous."
Orm laughed.
"Of course not."
Ling opened the car door.
"Get in."
"Yes, Executive Director."
Orm climbed inside.
Ling followed.
As the car pulled away from the hotel, Orm rested her head against the window and watched the scenery pass.nShe kept telling herself that nothing had happened. They had shared a room because the hotel had made a mistake.
They had shared a bed because there had been no alternative. They had built a pillow wall because they needed boundaries. They had talked because neither could sleep.
Nothing had happened.
And yet, somehow, that night had felt more intimate than any staged photograph, any public appearance or any carefully rehearsed moment designed to convince the world that they were in love.
Because there had been no cameras.
No audience.
No Aurelia campaign to protect.
No Veyra executives watching.
There had only been Ling and Orm.
And that was what frightened her.
The rules they had created were supposed to make pretending safe.
Instead, the more time they spent pretending, the harder it became for Orm to tell which moments were part of the performance and which ones belonged only to them.
She looked toward Ling.
Ling was reading something on her tablet, completely unaware of the storm inside Orm's head.
Or perhaps she was pretending not to notice.
Orm looked away.
One night.
That was all it had been.
One room.
One bed.
One sleepless night.
It shouldn't have changed anything.
But as the car carried them back toward Bangkok, Orm couldn't escape the uncomfortable feeling that something had shifted between them.
Not dramatically.
Not enough for anyone else to notice.
Just enough for her to feel it.
And she suspected Ling felt it too.
Neither of them was ready to say what it was.
Not yet.