Before Ling could pull back—
The door flew open.
"LING—"
Mira froze mid-step.
The sight hit her like a slap.
Ling's arm braced against the wall.
Rhea pinned beneath her.
Too close. Too intimate. Too charged.
Mira's face drained of color.
"What—" Her voice broke. "What are you doing?"
Ling turned sharply. "Get out."
Mira didn't hear her.
Rhea shoved ling away.
Mira moved putting herself between them with shaking hands, eyes blazing with panic and possessiveness.
"Don't touch her like that," Mira snapped to Rhea. "What's wrong with you?"
Ling stared at her—stunned more than angry.
Rhea straightened slowly.
Unhurried. Unbothered.
She rolled her wrist once where Ling had held her, eyes never leaving Mira's face.
"You need to stay away from Ling," Mira warned, voice trembling but sharp. "She doesn't need people like you around her."
Rhea blinked.
Then smiled.
Not sweet.
Not cruel.
Amused.
"People like me?" Rhea echoed softly.
She stepped closer—just one step—forcing Mira to tilt her head up.
"You mean confident?" Rhea said. "Or inconvenient?"
Mira clenched her fists. "You're trying to get between us."
Rhea laughed quietly.
"Oh," she said, eyes flicking briefly—deliberately—to Ling before returning to Mira. "That's funny."
Ling stiffened.
Rhea leaned in just enough for her words to land like a blade.
"She comes after me,herself" Rhea said calmly. "The way you come after her."
Mira's face flushed. "That's not—"
"You follow her," Rhea continued, unfazed. "Defend her. Speak for her. Warn people on her behalf. And she does exactly same but for me."
She tilted her head. "Tell me—how is that different?"
Mira's mouth opened.
No sound came out.
Rhea stepped back, smoothing her outfit like nothing had happened.
Then she looked at Ling.
Just once.
Brief.
Loaded.
Unfinished.
And walked past both of them toward the door.
As she left, she tossed one last line over her shoulder—light, effortless, devastating:
"You might want to worry less about me."
The door closed behind her.
Silence crashed down.
Mira turned to Ling, eyes wet, desperate. "Ling… I was just trying to protect you."
Ling didn't respond.
She was still staring at the door Rhea had walked through.
Heart racing.
Control shredded.
Ling finally moved.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
She turned from the door and faced Mira fully, expression cold—not cruel, but stripped of patience.
"Why do you follow me everywhere?" Ling asked. Her voice wasn't loud. That made it worse.
"I told you not to."
Mira flinched. "I was worried—"
"I didn't ask for that," Ling cut in. "I didn't ask for you to interfere. Or speak for me."
Mira's hands trembled. "Ling, I—"
Ling stepped closer, gaze unyielding. "I don't love you," she said flatly. "I never have. I've never even thought about it. Not once."
The words landed clean. Surgical.
Mira's breath hitched.
Her eyes filled instantly, tears spilling over as she shook her head in denial. "You don't mean that."
"I do," Ling said. "And you know it."
Silence stretched, heavy and humiliating.
Mira swallowed hard, voice breaking. "Then… what about her?"
Ling didn't answer immediately.
That pause said everything.
Mira saw it.
Her chest tightened, jealousy flaring through the tears. "You didn't deny it," she whispered. "You never deny it with her."
Ling's jaw flexed.
"This isn't about her," Ling said finally. "It's about you not respecting boundaries."
Mira laughed weakly, bitter. "You only talk about boundaries when it's not her."
Ling's eyes hardened. "Because she doesn't cross them you do."
Mira wiped her cheeks roughly. "She's using you," she said desperately. "She provokes you. She ignores you on purpose. She wants this."
Ling's gaze darkened. "You don't know what she wants."
"And you do?" Mira challenged, voice cracking.
Ling looked away.
That was answer enough.
Mira's shoulders sagged. "I've been beside you my whole life," she whispered. "And she walks in and—"
"She didn't walk in," Ling said sharply. "You pushed yourself in."
Mira stared at her, tears streaming now, hope finally breaking.
"So what am I to you?" she asked softly.
Ling met her eyes—steady, honest, unsoftened.
"Someone I trusted," Ling said. "Who needs to stop pretending that means more."
Mira nodded slowly, as if absorbing a wound she couldn't fight anymore.
"I won't interfere again," she said hoarsely.
Ling didn't thank her.
Mira turned toward the door, pausing once with her hand on the handle.
"She'll ruin you," Mira said quietly. "And when she does… don't say I didn't warn you. But remember even then I'll be waiting for you."
Ling's voice was calm. Certain.
"Leave."
The door closed.
Ling stood alone again.
Her chest felt tight—not with guilt, not with doubt—
But with the echo of Rhea's presence still burned into the space Mira had tried to claim.
The terrace was quiet.
Wind brushed past concrete and steel, carrying the low hum of the campus below. Rhea stood near the railing, one hand resting casually on it, listening to Zifa talk without really hearing her.
Her mind was elsewhere.
Control.
Timing.
Ling.
Then—
A shove.
Hard. Sudden. Full of panic and rage.
Rhea gasped as her balance snapped. Her back hit the railing, metal biting into her waist as her body tipped backward.
"RHEA—!" Zifa screamed.
Too late.
Rhea's foot slipped.
Her grip missed.
Her body went over.
Instinct screamed—claustrophobia, falling, trapped—all at once.
Her fingers clawed desperately at the railing and caught only air before managing to hook weakly onto the cold metal edge.
Her body hung.
Nothing beneath her.
Zifa rushed forward, grabbing at Rhea's arm, but Rhea's weight dragged her down too.
"I—I can't—" Zifa cried, panicking. "I can't pull you—"
Rhea's breath came sharp, broken. Her vision blurred. The world narrowed to height and fear and the sound of her own heartbeat crashing in her ears.