Chapter Text
When Ongsa wakes up to a series of knocks the next morning, she is almost surprised to know that things aren’t, in fact, magically better.
Dread curls its tendrils in the pit of Ongsa’s stomach. She clutches herself and turns to her side on the bed, moaning in pain. Why didn’t the ground open up and swallow her whole already? If a disaster has to strike the world, now would be a great time for that! Something which will ensure that the vehemence of her emotions will remain unfaced.
The series of knocks continues. Ongsa drags herself out of bed, barely putting on her glasses and flattening her hair.
Sun stands on the other side of the door, hands full of youtiao and soy milk. “Breakfast?”
Ongsa simply opens the door wider in response, a small smile on her face.
“Sorry,” Ongsa says, getting the plates. “I overslept.”
“It’s okay, Ongsa. I was awake a little too early.”
If Sun notices how Ongsa sits on the opposite end of the table instead of beside her the way she usually did, she doesn’t point it out.
Instead, Sun begins unpacking the food and Ongsa tries thinking of a neutral ground where they can start a conversation that would reset all the awkwardness between them in an instant.
“Did you sleep okay?”
Sun shakes her head, “Not really. I had a weird dream again. I dreamt that I had a pet squirrel and we tried diving. While we were swimming though, a random mer-fox bit me! And then the squirrel rescued me and we swam up. Do you want to see what it means?”
Ongsa falls into the routine with ease by immediately pulling out their trusted dream symbolism website and scours through the pages.
“Let’s see. A squirrel represents both hiding and digging beneath the surface. They are mainly related to emotions that stir below the surface. As a symbol, the pet can portray what you are nurturing and protecting the good and the bad.”
Ongsa swallows. Is it possible to have your life story reflected in someone else's dreams? She keeps reading the next paragraph. “The fox represents your ‘craftiness’ in hiding your real feelings. If you are bitten by an animal, then it probably means hidden feelings have erupted and have cut through your skin.”
“Oh,” Sun says and bites into her youtiao.
“Do you relate to any of this?” Ongsa asks, dreading to hear the answer and desperately wanting to know.
Sun, deep in thought, tears out a piece of the youtiao and slowly shakes her head. “I suppose not.”
Ongsa nods. “Diving can be associated with ‘going beneath the water,’ or delving into your unknown feelings or aspects that you are coming to recognize that were previously hidden ‘below the surface.’”
Sun sighs. “Well. I wish the interpretations were more specific than this. It’s all just bogus.”
Ongsa raises her eyebrows. Out of the two of them, Ongsa was more sceptical than Sun--after all, it was she who made sure that reading into their weird dreams became a morning ritual.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, hypothetically, if these things applied to me, I would already know, wouldn’t I? Why can’t these symbols tell me something more than what I would already know? Hypothetically?”
“What is it that you want to know?” Ongsa asks. “Hypothetically?”
Sun blinks and looks away. “Hypothetically, I’d want to know if the person feels the same. Or if it even makes sense to try and pursue it? What if it is doomed to fail? How do I know if it is a hopeless venture or a hopeful one?”
Ongsa ignores the very small, very selfish part of her that hurts at the thought of Sun talking about the person she’s going to go out with.
Instead, she focuses on her best friend who is agonising over the prospect. She understands exactly what Sun means. It would be so nice to have a sense of certainty without making yourself entirely vulnerable to attack. Even though Sun mentioned that she had decided to say yes to P’Dawan, she must not have confirmed that with her. Ongsa has seen how Sun lights up in P’Dawan’s presence. It would be a huge disservice to her if she ends up saying no when she clearly wants to say yes.
“You don’t need your dreams to tell you that,” Ongsa says. “I can.”
Sun turns to her with wide eyes. “You can?”
“She definitely likes you back,” Ongsa says with a firm nod. “It could never be doomed to fail.”
Sun looks unconvinced. “Ongsa, you don’t even know what I’m talking about.”
“Listen,” Ongsa says and holds her hands. “It’s you, Sun. How can someone not like you? You’re kind and beautiful and so smart. The sun cowers in your presence, you know?”
Sun keeps looking at their conjoined hands. “Really?”
Ongsa barely realises how her thumb mindlessly begins caressing Sun’s knuckles. Her voice drops to a whisper. “Really. Loving you is the easiest thing in the world for anybody. Ask anybody.”
“I’m asking you,” Sun says earnestly. “Do you really think she likes me back?”
A surge of desperation rises up within Ongsa. How is Sun having doubts about whether or not people can like her? Especially someone who has asked her out?
“Yes,” Ongsa says. She holds Sun’s gaze steadfastly. “She does. Sun, P’Dawan was the one who asked you out, wasn’t she? How could she not like you back?”
A burst of incredulous laughter spills from Sun’s mouth. “Right. We were talking about P’Dawan.”
Ongsa is confused. “Did someone else—”
“Never mind, Ongsa,” Sun says and goes back to her food. “Eat,” she says, pushing Ongsa’s forgotten plate in her direction. “It’s already cold.”
Silence reigns over them yet again. Did Ongsa say something wrong? Did she somehow let her feelings slip by and—
No, no. Ongsa has had years of experience in making sure that her feelings aren’t shown. It would be impossible for her to say something as irreverent as that.
Ongsa once again begins looking for a neutral conversation topic.
“My department is going trekking two weeks from now,” Ongsa says in the hopes that this thread of conversation is enough for the mood to lighten once again. “Will you come with me?”
As expected, the gleam in Sun’s eyes returns. “You want to go trekking? After our experience last year?”
“I want to go trekking only if you come with me,” Ongsa replies. She resolutely starts concentrating on sipping her soy milk. “It isn’t as scary when you’re with me.”
Sun reaches out and places her hand on Ongsa’s. “Of course, I will come with you. You don’t even have to ask.”
Ongsa threads their fingers together. “Okay,” she says.
Sun nods. “Things are less scary when we do it together.”
A sentiment Ongsa reciprocates.
***
Three Weeks Ago
Early on in their half-decade-long friendship, Ongsa and Sun had come to the conclusion that they love venturing into things that give them an adrenaline rush. They also realised that they were deathly scared of having those scary adventures alone. Facing the same things sounded less daunting at the prospect of doing it together.
In their junior year, they used to attend several activities of the paranormal stories club in their school together. They hated every second of it, but at least they witnessed something horrible together. Similarly, in their senior year, they had tried camping in the woods together. It was an abhorrent experience—for Ongsa, at least, as Sun had discovered her love for travelling through this—and they’d found solace only underneath the blanket of the night sky embedded with stars. They had huddled up to watch the stars together on the same sleep mattress. Their arms touching, their breaths intertwined. The stars were plenty and beautiful. Ongsa wasn’t able to look anywhere but Sun. The unrestrained delight on her face as she gazed at the stars was enough to jumpstart the entirety of Ongsa’s being. It was the first time—and not the last—they’d woken up with their bodies entwined in each other.
It is a memory Ongsa still holds dear to her heart. In the morning light, she had expected Sun to jump away from her, to feel awkward and weirded out, but instead, Sun had gazed up at Ongsa—her head on Ongsa’s chest—and had smiled brighter than the morning sun, as though waking up in Ongsa’s arms was just a natural state of being for her, as though she’d dreamt about it too, as though this is something she would want to do, again.
Similarly, they had trekked, gone to the dentist together, and played horror video games every Halloween that they’d spent together.
Watching horror movies they both would not be able to handle alone was another such pastime.
One rainy afternoon, as the lightning electrifies the sky, Ongsa and Sun huddle close to watch a horror movie they both can’t handle. It is the one they’ve attempted to watch a million times in the past and never succeeded. Now, coupled with steaming soupy noodles and the thunderstruck sky, they sit beside each other. They have no choice but to hold each other’s arms as tightly as they could every time the background music cued a jumpscare.
“I can handle gore but not this!” Sun says and immediately squeals at the ghost popping up from behind the protagonist. She valiantly hides her face behind Ongsa’s back.
Ongsa, who can’t even handle the gore in Sun’s favourite action movies, clutches Sun’s hands tighter.
On one such jumpscare—a memory Ongsa will keep repeating in her mind over and over and over—Sun yelps out loud and nuzzles her face in the crook of Ongsa’s neck.
Everything fades away in that buoyant moment. Ongsa feels her blood freeze. Each breath that falls on Ongsa’s bare skin feels like an inevitable death in the making. The sky is painted grey and yet this juncture of moments is doused in a bright golden. No matter how many times this happens, Ongsa can't get used to its intensity.
Like all times, Ongsa expects Sun to slowly remove her head from her neck and continue peeking at the movie with an eye closed. Unlike the other times, though, Sun nuzzles in closer.
“Woah, Ongsa,” Sun whispers. Goosebumps arise with every breath Ongsa feels on her bare skin. “You smell so good.”
If not for the sake of maintaining decorum, Ongsa would have screamed. She tries her hardest to not move, holding herself as rigid as she can to ensure that a catastrophe doesn’t strike.
“You noticed?” Ongsa mutters as Sun shows no signs of letting go. “It’s just a new body wash.”
“I have memorised everything there is to know about you, Ongsa,” Sun says casually, as though reducing Ongsa to a puddle was a part-time activity for her. “What is this called?”
At once, Ongsa’s cheeks are flooded with warmth. What was she supposed to do when faced with a new launch of a body wash with the name of, ‘Love for Sun’? Not take it?
“Love for Sun,” Ongsa replies, not looking at Sun. “The next time I go there, I will bring it for you.”
“No, no,” Sun says, resting her head on Ongsa’s shoulders. “Get one for me only if a body wash is called Love for Ongsa, okay?”
As is always the case with Ongsa’s heart around Sun, it skips a beat.
“Awww, Ongsa! Are you blushing?”
“Pshhh, why would I blush? It is suddenly just hotter, that’s all.”
But Sun merely looks at their legs underneath the blanket and points at the storm brewing outside. “I bet!” she says with a twinkle in her eye.
If Sun keeps on being this observant, it won’t be long before she finds out about Ongsa’s crush. Not long before Ongsa’s pink-hued bubble bursts.
They slowly turn their attention to the long-forgotten horror movie once again and simultaneously grip each other’s hands in fear when the ghost-faced killer springs upon the protagonists.
This was what Ongsa could never tire of. The two of them holding hands in their safe cocoon despite the storm brewing outside. It brought her back to her conversation with P’Alpha, just a week ago. This was what she would give up if she went against the current. She would rather her heart break a million times than give this up.
Just then, Sun’s phone pings and her hands leave Ongsa’s. She looks down at her forlorn hands, and then at Sun.
Sun is eagerly typing out a message with a wide smile on her face, the pink on her cheeks rushing up to her forehead. It is such a peculiar expression that an ugly feeling curdled the insides of Ongsa’s stomach. Why not me? The ugly feeling screams. Why can’t she look at us this way?
“Is everything okay?” Ongsa gingerly asks.
“Oh!” Sun puts the phone away and nods breathlessly. “Yes, yes. Everything is great.”
Ongsa nods in reply but does not push. Sun sneaks a look at Ongsa. When she finds that Ongsa’s eyes can never stray away from her, Sun lets her in, at last. “Do you remember P’Dawan?”
“Your senior? The one who dropped you home that one-time P’Sunny gave up on you?” The one time Ongsa’s phone was out of the network zone, she vividly remembers the tall and beautiful and smart and confident P’Dawan who had dropped Sun home. She remembers feeling like a territorial dog and chiding herself for feeling that way. She remembers how Sun gazed at her in admiration, her eyes sparkling.
“What about her?” Ongsa asks her heart in her throat.
“Well.” Sun bites her lips and looks down. Ongsa follows her gaze to see Sun’s hands clenched on the blanket.
“What?” Ongsa asks as she leans in closer. Against her better judgement, she grabs ahold of Sun’s fists and presses a soothing touch to them. “Did she do something?”
Sun shakes her head. “Well, she asked me out.”
Ever since Ongsa has started orbiting around Sun, this is not the first time someone has asked her out. Obviously. She is ethereal. The most captivating person that Ongsa knows; that she will ever know.
What she doesn’t understand is the tentative look on Sun’s face as she peers up at Ongsa. The faint blush on her cheeks. The eagerness with which she responds to each of the texts P’Dawan (supposedly) sends.
Ongsa squeezes Sun’s fists again. “Well? Are you going to say yes to her?”
Sun blinks and looks away.
Ongsa feels the pain shoot from the base of her spine to the extremities of her fingers. “Oh.”
“I mean—”
“You like her?” Ongsa interrupts, abruptly turning away from Sun and looking at the screen of their long-forgotten movie. “I mean, P’Dawan sounds amazing, from everything you’ve told me about her. It makes sense that you like her. And she is pretty, too.”
“You think she is pretty?”
Ongsa nods. “Don’t you think so as well? She makes you laugh too, doesn’t she? And you have so much fun when she is around. And she takes care of you as well.”
“You’re amazing too,” Sun says. “And you’re pretty. And you make me laugh. And I have fun around you, too. Nobody takes care of me the way you do. Is that enough for two people to fall in love?”
Ongsa can’t help but humorlessly chuckle. “Well, it is different with different people, isn’t it?”
“She’s not that amazing.” Sun’s voice sounds so far away. Has it always been that far away? Has Ongsa’s skin always been this cold? So sweaty? Has her tongue always felt so heavy that it can’t move? Has her mind always been so blank and her vision blurry? “And I don’t like her. But.”
Language returns to Ongsa somehow. “But?”
“What do you think, Ongsa?” Sun asks. “Do you think I should go on a date with her?”
Suddenly, not looking at Sun feels like an apocalypse waiting to happen. When her gaze returns to Sun, she is fiddling with her fingers as she looks into the distance, outside the window.
Fear grips the Ongsa from her skin to her marrow. Before Ongsa knows it, she croaks out, “Yes.”
Sun’s movements are still. “Yes?”
“I mean, you’ve always refused people when they ask you out, right?” Ongsa asks. Has her voice always been this shrill? Have her hands never quite known where their home is? Why does she feel so uncomfortable, so awful, so terrible in her skin?
“Right,” Sun says, after a pause. “But do you really think it is a good idea?” She turns towards Ongsa, then, her face contorting into a painful expression. “Me, dating other people. Is this something you’d be okay with?”
“Does it matter?” Ongsa finds herself saying. “Does it matter if I am or I am not okay with it?”
“Of course,” Sun says, steadfast. “You’re my best friend. I— of course, it matters what you say.”
“No, it doesn't,” Ongsa replies. The turmoil of the entire world seems to rest on her chest. “Ultimately, it is your choice. If you think she is good for you—”
Sun looks away. “So it won’t matter to you at all? If I go on a date with her? Or anybody else?”
It would, she wants to say. It would matter so much to me. Every day would feel like death. Instead, she forces herself to say, “I would be happy for you, of course. But that’s about it. And it’s about time one of us gets a girlfriend, right?”
Sun doesn’t laugh along. She looks distraught, somehow. Ongsa has a horrible feeling in her gut that tells her that she was the one who made her feel that way.
“You'd be happy for me,” Sun whispers. “And things between us? Do you think they’ll change?”
“Of course not,” Ongsa replies. She will learn to deal with her onslaught of feelings by herself. No matter what, Sun is the most precious person in her life. She will make sure that things don’t change.
But of course, everything changes.
***
Present
“It is the nature of all things to change,” Charoen says, patting Ongsa on her back. “This may not mean anything.”
It is the first time they’ve all been able to meet after weeks, owing to their horribly tedious schedule. Ongsa did not want to spend time whining about this, but Charoen took one look at the forlorn expression on Ongsa’s face and demanded she spill.
“Nooo,” Ongsa groans, as she heroically flops her head on the café table. “It shouldn’t be this weird with her. I think she’s just really hurt that I didn’t tell her the first time.”
“Are you sure about that?” Tinh asks from across their table.
“Why else would things change? This is the first time I’ve been caught with something I’ve hidden from her.”
Tinh and Chaoren must exchange glances because soon Ongsa hears fevered whispers.
“What are you both talking about?”
“Nothing!” Tinh says quickly. “I think we’ll just let you figure this one out.”
“Nooo,” Ongsa groans. “That is the worst idea ever. I can’t be trusted with things.”
Once again, Tinh and Charoen exchange a look.
Charoen nods in Tinh’s direction and turns to Ongsa with a rueful smile.
“Ongsa, have you considered that maybe Sun has feelings for you?”
The absurdity of the question makes Ongsa splutter out a loud laughter that ricochets in the cafeteria.
“Why?” Ongsa asks. “Why would I even consider something as fanciful as that?”
Charoen opens her mouth to reply but Ongsa interrupts before more blasphemous words come out of her mouth. “Please. If that were true, would she go on a date with someone else tomorrow? If that were true, would there be this weird air between us that makes us want to scramble for safe topics to talk about? If that were true, wouldn’t she tell me? Wouldn’t I have known?”
Charoen purses her lips as if to hold in laughter. “Would you have known?”
“Aren’t you contributing to the weird air between the two of you as well? Despite being in love with her? And, aren’t you going on a date tomorrow as well? ”
Ongsa wilts at the mention of her date. It’s different, isn’t it? Who wouldn’t fall in love with Sun? And for Sun to accept the person after she has been known to reject everyone who comes in her vicinity? Surely P’Dawan must be lovable too. She must be as bright as Sun, as beautiful as Sun. As sweet, and confident, and she is even taller than Ongsa, and the epitome of goodness. Maybe they’re everything Sun had ever dreamt of. How easy would it be for Sun to realise this and fall in love with them?
How easy would it be for Ongsa to fall out of Sun’s orbit?
However, Ongsa has absolutely no hopes for her own date. The person she is talking to, P’June, is extremely kind and respectful while texting. How disappointed would they be to see Ongsa in real life and talk to her? This endeavour is simply too doomed from the start.
“It isn’t the same,” Ongsa mutters.
“You look like you’re dreading it,” Charoen says. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”
“Yeah,” Tinh replies. “I mean… you were pretty adamant about not going on dates until three weeks ago. Did you change your stance because Sun finally accepted someone’s date instead of rejecting it?”
Ongsa shakes her head. “She only considered the possibility that day. Asked for how I’d feel—as if that matters. And told me that she’ll tell her phi that she will think about it. Only a couple of nights ago did she tell me that she accepted it. I only went on the dating apps because P’Alpha had been insisting for a while.” And because I am hopeless and think that meeting new people would take my mind off of Sun as if my heart isn’t deeply entwined with hers.
The look Tinh and Charoen share is loud. Unfortunately, Ongsa can still not decipher it.
“What?” Ongsa asks, annoyed. “At one point, wasn’t it the two of you encouraging me to get over her?”
“We always thought that Sun might feel the same,” Tinh defends. Ongsa remembers those warm nights spent in her bedroom, both Tinh and Charoen helping her figure out what everything Sun does means. They inevitably came to the conclusion that it was all platonic, after all.
“You,” Charoen replies. “You always came to the conclusion that it was platonic.”
Ongsa looks away. What was the alternative? Believing that Sun liked her, out of all the people she could like? Even though Ongsa significantly likes herself more now, this is not something that she can easily digest. It is impossible for Sun to like her. Not when people like P’Dawan exist.
***
“So, what is it that you’re looking for?”
Ongsa looks up from playing with her spaghetti at P’June. “Uh,” she intelligently says and rubs her hands on her skirt. “Uh…”
Unexpectedly, P’June’s eyes crinkle in amusement. “Is this the first time you’ve been on a date?”
“No, no!” Ongsa exclaims. “I’ve— well. It certainly isn’t the first time I’ve been on a date.”
“But it is the first time someone has asked you this question?”
“In person, yes,” Ongsa replies.
“And what would you do if I’d asked you this over chat?”
Ghost her probably, Ongsa doesn’t say. It is not fair to the others, she knows, but at the same time, she doesn’t know them enough to dump her entire life story which leads her to this junction where she has to answer this question from someone who isn’t Sun.
P’June suddenly places her hand on top of Ongsa’s. “It’s okay, Ongsa,” she says. “You don’t have to answer that.”
Ongsa’s shoulders sag forward. “I don’t know what I’m looking for,” she whispers. “That’s bad, right?”
P’June simply shakes her head. “Not really. I have been on dating apps for a while. Believe me, this is a very benign thing to feel bad about.”
Ongsa doesn’t have to say anything for P’June to raise her eyebrows and have her mouth twisted in a grin. “Oh! You don't feel bad about it.”
“No no!” Ongsa scrambles to explain. “It isn’t like that! I do, I do! It’s just—”
“Relax,” P’June says and squeezes her hand. “I was simply joking.”
Ongsa’s shoulders slump forward. This is so stupid. P’June is obviously someone more experienced in dating. What is she doing with a loser like Ongsa?
“Dating as a young lesbian in a city as big as this is a mess, right?” P’June asks.
Ongsa clears her throat. “That’s not why,” she says. “Dating in general is.”
“I agree,” P’June says. “It is horrible. Being entirely vulnerable with someone. It makes me want to die. Have you been entirely vulnerable with someone before, Ongsa?”
At once, Sun’s face flashes in Ongsa’s mind. She must also be on her date right now. Holding hands with P’Dawan. Sun’s smiles that were once just reserved for Ongsa would all now be directed towards P’Dawan. The gleam in her eyes, her melodious laughter, her gentle touch. P’Dawan will be the recipient of it.
Ongsa breathes through her mouth and nods at P’June’s question. Even though Ongsa has never once told Sun how she feels, she knows that there was a time when she stopped caring about how her actions were perceived. How she had simply allowed herself to be with Sun.
“I have,” she answers.
“You’re a braver person than I am,” P’June scoffs. “I could never.”
“There must be someone, right?”
At this, the ever-present smile on P’June’s face falls. She runs her finger on the rim of her wine glass and abruptly shakes her head. “Nope!”
“How come?”
P’June gives a rueful smile. “I suppose, it's too revealing, isn’t it? Doesn’t it make your skin itch?”
Ongsa nods. “It does. And it is glorious.”
P’June gets an analytical look on her face as if she is trying to figure Ongsa out. As though she wants to peel her skin open take a peek into the rot that lies inside of her. “Where is that person now? The one you were vulnerable with, once?”
“She’s on a date as well. With someone else.”
At P’June’s incredibly sharp, raised eyebrows, Ongsa scrambles to explain, “We’re still best friends, of course.”
“What kind of best friends?” she asks, leaning forward. “The one with repressed feelings for years or platonic soulmates?”
“Both?”
“That is not an option.”
Ongsa’s head hangs low again. Even though talking about it to someone who doesn’t know Sun feels relieving—the way it did with Bambi—it doesn’t take away from the shame. Shame at not being faithful to her feelings. At talking to other people. At still being hung up on someone.
(In Ongsa’s defence, if people knew Sun, they would understand.)
“I’m assuming that you can’t be fully vulnerable with her now?”
What would that even entail? Being vulnerable in this situation? What face could Ongsa face Sun with, when she could not even face the intensity of her feelings or remain loyal to the myriad emotions that burst underneath her skin when Sun merely glances in her direction? How could she have anticipated these walls to come shoot up from the ground, dividing them both? All because she couldn’t be vulnerable in a moment that mattered the most, allowing fear to drag her into the ground and swallow her whole? All because she never, ever dared to pop the bubble of goodness they’d both built, safe from the horror of the world and just theirs? And then when it broke, she couldn’t tell Sun at that point— no, I am not okay with you dating someone. No, I am selfish and greedy and I want you all to myself. It would have been unfair to her friendship with Sun if she were to say this.
“Can I be honest with you, P’June?”
“That would be really nice.”
“I am actually not looking for anything,” she replies, her head hanging low. “Not for love, not for something casual, not for just going out on dates, or whatever that means. Not from you.”
At the surprised expression on P’June’s face, Ongsa jumps to her defence once again. “I don’t mean you. I mean you as in, everyone I meet on a dating app!”
As expected, P’June asks, “Then why are you on one? Why aren’t you with the person who made you feel safe enough to be vulnerable?”
Ongsa looks away from P’June’s big, warm eyes. Answering her would mean risking a spontaneous combustion.
Just then, Ongsa’s ringtone bleeds through the chatter of the restaurant. When she sees that it’s Sun who’s calling, the fork falls on the plate with a clang and she almost drops her phone twice before picking it.
“Sun?”
“Ongsa?” answers P’Dawan on the other end. “It’s me, Dawan. Can you come and pick her up?”
“Is she okay?” Ongsa asks, already packing her bag. P’June looks mildly unimpressed and yet calls for their bill.
“She is, she is,” P’Dawan replies. “Don’t worry, she’s perfectly okay. She is just a little…”
“A little?!”
“A little inebriated,” P’Dawan whispers.
Ongsa’s chest, once heavy with worry, lightens up immediately. “Oh.”
“She wants you to come and pick her up. She isn’t willing to go home otherwise. Can I send you the address?”
“Yes. I am on my way,” Ongsa replies.
After cutting the call, she apologetically turns to P’June, only to find her already paying the bill.
“Let me drop you?”
“No, no. That won't be necessary. This bar is in the opposite direction.”
“Let me, Ongsa,” P’June says. “I want to make sure that you reach there safely. Okay?”
At Ongsa’s nod, P’June smiles a little brighter. “Tell you what, Ongsa. I’m not really looking for anything as well. Do you want to hang out again?”
“What?” Ongsa asks. “Do you mean as friends?”
P'June simply shrugs her shoulders. “However you want to. I think spending time with you is fun. What say?”
Ongsa blinks. “Okay.”
***
Ongsa spots Sun sitting on a curb, an unfamiliar black jacket draped around her yellow dress before the car even comes to a stop. Beside her, P’Dawan stands, looking extremely concerned.
The car cannot stop fast enough for Ongsa to get out of it and run towards her.
“Sun!” Ongsa exclaims, kneeling down in front of her. “Are you okay?”
Apart from trying alcohol once at a house party P’Luna had thrown years ago, Ongsa has never seen Sun drunk. Not like this, of course. That night, they were tipsy off of two cans of beer and had found themselves in a corner, pink-cheeked and hazy-eyed.
In front of her, Sun looks pale, the usual zeal from her eyes gone. She still manages a smile and wraps her arms around Ongsa’s shoulders. In doing so, the jacket on her shoulder slips down. Sun leans in extremely close and presses a kiss on Ongsa’s cheek. “You came! I missed you, Ongsa!”
Ongsa’s heart twists in its shackles. They’ve never done this before.
“What happened?” she asks P’Dawan.
P’Dawan simply shakes her head. “I wish I knew. I’d just gone to the washroom and when I came back, she was drunk. She’s okay, Ongsa. But I thought it’s better to call you than to force her to go anywhere.”
Ongsa nods. They slowly stand up and in doing so, the jacket on Sun’s shoulders falls down. When P’Dawan offers it again, Ongsa shakes her head. “It’s okay,” she says. “I’ll just give her mine since we live a door away from each other.”
Ongsa notices the disappointed look on P’Dawan’s face. However, with how tactile Sun is even when drunk, her attention is entirely on how Sun holds her close, her fingers grazing against her shoulders and neck. She removes her jacket and puts it on her shoulders. Sun, seemingly content with this change, leaves Ongsa’s arms and immediately smells the jacket.
“Smells like you,” Sun says, snuggling into it. She is surprisingly cooperative now, standing up and holding Ongsa’s hand. The colour seems to return to her cheeks.
“Thank you for calling me, P’Dawan,” Ongsa says. “I’ll take her home, now.”
P’Dawan looks between the two of them with a resigned smile. “Sure, Ongsa. Just let me know whenever you both reach home?”
Ongsa nods and pulls Sun towards the direction of their rooms. That is when Sun spots P’June.
“Who is this?” she asks, her tone accusing.
“That’s P’June,” Ongsa says.
“I was the person Ongsa was on a date with,” P’June says with a toothy grin. “Pleasure to finally meet you.”
Sun looks aggrieved. She holds Ongsa’s hands tighter and pulls her in the opposite direction.
“Sun!” Ongsa exclaims. When Sun doesn’t stop, she looks behind to wave P’June goodbye, who looks extremely amused at the interaction.
“I’ll text you,” P’June shouts.
Ongsa barely gets the chance to nod before Sun pulls her aside and begins rummaging through her bag.
“Sun,” Ongsa calls, holding her by her shoulders. “What do you want?”
“Your phone!” Sun humphs.
A deluge of affection crashes in Ongsa’s chest.
Even in her inebriated stage, Sun notices it. “Are you laughing at me?”
“No,” Ongsa replies and resists the urge to ruffle Sun’s hair. “Not at all!”
“You are!” Sun exclaims and plops her head on Ongsa's chest. “Ongsaaa!”
Ongsa pats the back of Sun’s head. “There, there,” she shushes and hands Sun her phone from the pockets of her skirt. “There you go.”
Sun humphs again and puts the phone in her bag. “Now she can’t text you.”
“Why do you not want her to text me?”
“You know why,” Sun mutters and begins walking ahead.
Ongsa is pretty sure she doesn’t, but she has no chance to voice out her concerns. For a tiny person, Sun walks surprisingly fast, even when drunk. Ongsa struggles to keep up her pace.
“Sun, wait!” Ongsa calls and holds her wrist when they’re within touching distance. “Don’t leave my hand, okay? We have to get home safely.”
Sun looks at their joined hands in awe. “You want to hold hands with me?”
This time, Ongsa can’t hold back the laugh bubbling in her throat. “We always hold hands!”
“But never like this,” Sun says and holds it close to her body. Surprising her for the third time this evening, she presses a kiss on Ongsa’s knuckles.
Slowly, they make their way around the city, walking the long way through the neon lights and the crowded streets. Sun keeps pointing out the littlest things that strike her interest. She pets every dog she sees and points towards every star she sees. Slowly, she looks more sober than she did at the start of their journey. All the while, she never lets go of Ongsa’s hand, making sure they never stray away from each other.
As they get close to their dorms, Sun pulls Ongsa close to her and asks, “You won’t ask me how my date was?”
The pang in Ongsa's heart returns. “How was your date?”
But Sun simply stumbles into her and holds her tight. “It was miserable.”
“Miserable?” Ongsa echoes as she wraps her arms around her shoulder to make sure she doesn’t run into a pole. “Why?”
Sun humphs. “What do you mean why?” she asks. “The conversations were so stilted. She was so boring!”
“I'm sorry, Sun,” Ongsa says. “I know you were looking forward to it.”
“I wasn’t!” Sun exclaims. “Besides, even if the conversations weren't boring and stilted, I would not have liked it.”
“Why not?”
Abruptly, Sun looks at Ongsa. The glee in her eyes dies down and yet, her eyes never once leave Ongsa’s.
“Do you like your dates?”
Instinctively, Ongsa shakes her head.
“Why not?”
“Because they're not you,” Ongsa impulsively says, then regrets everything she said. “I mean— we share a comfort level that nobody else could repli—”
“Forget it,” Sun mumbles, looking away.
“Ah,” Ongsa replies. She awkwardly pats Sun’s hair. “Don’t worry. You’ll find someone.”
“I don’t want to!” Sun says.
Suddenly, she halts in her place and steps in front of Ongsa, who reaches out to hold her elbows—just to make sure that she doesn’t sway and plant her head into the ground.
“What are you doing?!” Ongsa asks when Sun places both her palms on her cheeks, pressing them together and pulling them apart.
“Sun?!”
“Not if it isn't you, Ongsa,” Sun says and wraps her arms around Ongsa’s torso. “Not if it isn't you.”
“What?”
Sun mumbles, “Figure it out.”
Before Ongsa can ask just what she means, Sun thumps her head on Ongsa’s shoulders. “Can we go home?”
“Okay,” Ongsa replies. Still, hand in hand, they walk towards their dorms.
***
Sun is surprisingly complacent when they reach her room. She could’ve almost fooled Ongsa, if not for the slight sway in her steps and the flush on her cheeks that gave her away.
“Turn around,” Ongsa says, holding a scrunchie in her hand.
She gently gathers all of Sun’s hair in her hands and blatantly ignores the wake of goosebumps behind her neck. She braids it as perfectly as she can—which isn’t perfect at all. Strands of hair escape the clumsy braid with every plait.
“Sorry,” Ongsa mumbles. “Shall I re-do your hair?”
Sun turns around to look at Ongsa, only to sleepily blink at her. “No,” she says. “This is good.”
“Okay,” Ongsa whispers. “You don’t feel a pull or anything, right?”
Sun shakes her head. Her eyes seem to follow Ongsa as she moves between cupboards to gather her clothes and her towel. “Have a shower?” Ongsa asks, holding out the clothes. “You’ll feel better.”
Sun merely gathers them and walks to her bathroom.
Ongsa has no time to process the past hour. She sprints to her dorm and changes her clothes as fast as she can—she doesn’t want to upset Sun by not being there when she comes out, but her clothes feel a little too uncomfortable on her skin. She aches to go back to her t-shirt and boxers.
By the time Sun exits the shower--looking softer than ever--Ongsa has made her bed and cleaned up the room in the best manner that she could.
"Have some more water," Ongsa says and points at the glass on the table. "Just what did you drink? I've never seen you like this."
"We were having beers," Sun mumbles, nursing the glass of water on top of her eyelids. "And then I had one shot."
Ongsa shakes her head. "Next time we go drinking, we're taking P'Alpha with us. Nobody can hold alcohol the way she does."
“Okay,” Sun says, cracking a small smile. “Can we sleep now?”
Ongsa nods. She makes sure that Sun is comfortable in her bed before filling up two glasses of water to put by her bedside and a packet of painkillers. “Don't forget to eat this in the morning, okay?”
“Will you sleep here?”
Ongsa shakes her head. “I’d rather go back to my room.”
“You can stay here,” Sun says. She leans forward to grab her hands. “In fact, I want you to stay here.”
Ongsa does not think that this is a good idea. Being in such proximity with Sun, especially after this extremely revealing evening can't be good for her heart.
Sun sees the answer on Ongsa’s face.
“Ongsa, please don’t leave me,” Sun mumbles, gripping Ongsa tight, her head in her torso. “Please. Don’t leave me alone, okay? I would not know what to do if you left.”
“Sun—”
Sun looks up, her mouth contorted in a sad pout. “Just stay, please? Just for tonight. Then you can go but just stay. Please?”
There is no human created in the world that can resist Sun's pleading eyes. “Please?”
“Okay,” Ongsa replies, melting into the touch. She lets herself be pulled by Sun. Lets herself be drowned in the bed, be consumed by Sun’s tentative touches, be submerged by the smell of Sun's perfume that surrounds them in bed. Their bodies fit together perfectly. Ongsa holds Sun’s back close to her front and drops a kiss on her bare shoulder.
“Sleep,” Ongsa whispers. “Sweet dreams, Sun.”
Sun reciprocates the kiss to Ongsa’s knuckles. “Sweet dreams, Ongsa.”
The harsh glare of the morning will bring to light many things that have been pushed into the shadows. Until then, Ongsa lets sleep consume them both.