University Café — Late Morning
Rhea is halfway down the corridor when her phone vibrates.
She stops.
Pulls it out.
The Academic Review Committee notice—
gone.
Her lips curve before she can stop them.
"Of course," she murmurs.
She doesn't need confirmation.
She feels Ling in it—the quiet violence, the efficiency, the refusal to ask permission.
Rhea slips the phone back into her pocket, shoulders easing just a little.
Then she heads to the café.
The café is busy, low hum of voices, steam hissing, cups clinking.
Ling is already there.
Leaning against the counter like it was built for her. Blazer off. Sleeves rolled. Calm. Dangerous. Entirely too comfortable in public.
Rina is perched on a stool beside her, legs swinging, eyes sharp with amusement.
Ling sees Rhea instantly.
Her gaze doesn't soften—
it locks.
Rhea walks straight past her.
Takes Ling's coffee from the counter.
Ling blinks once.
"Good morning to you too," Ling says mildly.
Rhea doesn't look at her. Takes a sip. Winces. "You put sugar."
Ling's mouth twitches. "You complain every time."
"And you never learn."
Rina laughs. "She steals your coffee like it's a birthright."
Ling gestures to the barista. "Another. Black. No sugar."
Rhea smirks. "You learn selectively."
Ling pays without breaking eye contact.
When the new cup arrives, Ling takes the cream and, with deliberate slowness, draws a small heart in the foam.
She slides it toward Rhea.
"Still accurate," Ling says quietly.
Rhea looks at it.
Then looks at Ling.
Then—without a word—she grabs the cream herself.
Rina leans forward, already grinning. "Oh no."
Rhea bends over Ling's cup, completely serious, and with precise, artistic intent, made ugliest little pile imaginable.
A perfect, unmistakable 💩.
She sets the cream down.
Pushes the cup back toward Ling.
"There," Rhea says coolly. "More honest."
The café goes silent for half a second.
Then—
Rina loses it.
"Oh my God—" she wheezes, clutching the counter. "I can't—Ling, she—"
Ling looks down at the cup.
Looks back at Rhea.
And then—slowly—she smiles.
Not offended.
Not embarrassed.
Amused. Intimate. Possessive.
"You're creative," Ling says.
Rhea lifts her chin. "You deserved it."
Ling picks up the cup.
Rina gasps. "You're not actually—"
Ling drinks it.
Right in front of them.
Rhea's eyes widen despite herself. "You're insane."
Ling wipes her mouth with her thumb. "I've had worse."
Rina howls. "This is true love. I've seen nothing like it to Ling."
Ling steps closer to Rhea, lowering her voice. "You smiled when it disappeared."
Rhea stiffens. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Ling leans in just enough to invade. "You do."
Rhea meets her gaze. Sharp. Bright. Alive.
"Don't do things for me without telling me," Rhea says.
Ling's smile fades into something darker. "Then stop pretending you don't like it."
Rhea scoffs, turning away. "You're unbearable."
Ling watches her walk off, eyes following every step.
Rina nudges her. "She's flirting by vandalism now."
Ling exhales, satisfied. "She noticed."
Rina grins. "She always does."
Ling glances at the cup.
Still smiling.
University Corridor — Outside the Café
Rhea hasn't even taken ten steps when she hears it.
"Rhea."
That voice.
Too sweet. Too tight. Trying too hard.
Rhea stops but doesn't turn.
Mira comes up beside her, arms folded, smile trembling at the edges. Her eyes flick once—once only—toward the café where Ling still stands.
"I didn't know you liked humiliating people in public," Mira says softly.
Rhea finally turns. Her expression is bored, unimpressed. "Then stop watching."
Mira's jaw tightens. "You think this is funny?"
"I think," Rhea replies, stepping closer, "you're confused about your relevance."
Mira inhales sharply. "You don't understand—"
"No," Rhea cuts in. "You want me not to."
Mira's eyes glisten. "Ling isn't like this. You changed her."
Rhea laughs once, sharp. "She was like this before me. You just never mattered enough to see it."
That hits.
Mira's voice drops. "She doesn't belong with someone like you."
Rhea tilts her head. "Define 'someone like me.'"
Mira gestures helplessly. "You provoke her. You play games. You don't care about the consequences."
Rhea steps in close enough that Mira instinctively steps back.
"I care plenty," Rhea says quietly. "Just not about you."
A shadow falls over them.
A familiar one.
Mira stiffens.
Ling's voice comes from behind her—low, calm, lethal.
"Explain."
Mira turns too fast. "Ling, I—I was just—"
Ling's eyes aren't on her yet.
They're on Rhea.
"Are you okay," Ling asks.
Rhea doesn't soften. "She's talking."
Ling finally looks at Mira.
The temperature drops.
"What are you doing," Ling asks.
Mira swallows. "I wanted to clear a misunderstanding."
Ling steps closer. One step. Enough.
"There is no misunderstanding," Ling says. "There is you. And there is the fact that you keep forgetting your place."
Mira's voice cracks. "I was worried about you."
Ling's lips curve slightly. "No. You were worried about losing."
Rhea crosses her arms, watching.
Mira shakes her head. "She's using you. She is playing."
Ling doesn't raise her voice. She never needs to.
"Leave," Ling says.
Mira looks between them. Desperate. "Ling—"
Ling steps closer again.
"Now."
Mira's eyes fill, she turned away, shoulders shaking as she walks down the corridor.
Ling doesn't watch her go.
She turns back to Rhea.
"You didn't have to engage," Ling says.
Rhea scoffs. "You didn't have to come running."
Ling steps into her space anyway. "Yes. I did."
Rhea looks up at her. "You enjoy scaring people."
Ling's gaze flicks briefly in the direction Mira disappeared. Then back.
"I enjoy you not being cornered."
Rhea's voice drops. "I can handle myself."
"I know," Ling says. "That's why I stand next to you. Not in front."
Rhea exhales, annoyed—and something else she refuses to name.
"Next time," Rhea says, "let me finish it."
Ling smiles faintly. "Next time," she replies, "I won't be late."
They stand there, too close, too visible.
Students pretend not to stare.
Rina watches from a distance, arms crossed, satisfied.
"That," she mutters to herself, "was inevitable."
Ling finally steps back, giving Rhea space—but not distance.
"Tonight," Ling says. "I will come again."
"That wasn't a request," Rhea says.
Ling's eyes glint. "No."
Rhea turns and walks away.