Chapter Text
Day 1
Milk Vosbein glossed over her set of notes, her fingers drumming along the edges of the brown clipboard in hand. With furrowed eyebrows, she skimmed over her cast list and immediately groaned at the sight of names she'd never heard of—an indication of a rookie and an unpredictable line-up. This meant a lot more mistakes, a lot more time in the editing room, and a lot more effort to coax the cast members into producing something entertaining for viewers to watch. Needless to say, today was going to be one hell of a stressful day.
Milk rubbed at her temple, her keen senses on high alert this morning, as today will prove to be another stepping stone in her career. It’s the first day of filming for her new show, and the pressure is on her as the famous PD of the GMMTV studio to ensure its success—she’s the genius whose projects she touched turned into comedic and entertainment gold. You could also allude it to the fact that she's a perfectionist, maybe borderline OCD because of how she runs things—but that's a topic to discuss another day.
Looking up from her set of notes, she glances at the clock on the wall and departs from her office. On her way over to the set, her mere presence begins to unnerve the innocent novices around her. It was known in the company that Milk had a stone for a heart, and her criticisms (if you could call them that) were unbelievably jarring to the utmost extent and resulted in multiple employees willingly resigning from their positions, even the most experienced ones. This is why, throughout the years, she's managed to hoard the best and most loyal film crew under her care, but even then, she was still no Mother Teresa. As she strides toward the studio, she leaves a trail of employees dashing for the bathroom faster than a cat in a downpour. And it's not because she enjoys playing bathroom monitor—it's just that she'd rather not add "janitorial duties" to her resume. She'd hate to have to ask the janitor to clean up a twenty-something-year-old's accident just because she walked past them. Again.
Upon her arrival, Milk marched to the light control panel, nodding to her staff as they stepped aside to let her analyze the light placements and test some of the newly installed LED bulbs. Satisfied, she walked towards the cameras, her cameramen greeting her before moving aside to let her do some final checks on the recording equipment.
She looked through the viewfinder and grunted at the sight in front of her.
Unfortunately, due to the minimal budgeting she was given, the set was simply constructed with pastel pink walls, the show's title hanging in the air, and four blue bean bags donning the floor, with the overall image providing a comfortable aesthetic for family viewers to enjoy. It indeed looked cheap, but it didn't matter because she understood that all the magic happened under the lights and the angles. She just thought that a hotshot producer like her would be given a better setup than this. Hopefully, by the end of this season, they could afford a table or maybe a carpet.
"Can you look over this?" her assistant producer, Namtan, requested, pushing a wad of white paper into her hands.
Milk brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, tucking her clipboard beneath her arm, and sifted through the script provided.
"Stressed?" Namtan inquired, crossing her arms as she waited.
Milk lightly shook her head, pulling her black cap down. "Just the usual, you know?"
The hecticness of every shoot wasn't new to her, nor was the stress that came with it. Although she was grateful for the prosperity, she sometimes wished things would slow down a little. For instance, this whole morning she's been glancing left and right, answering requests and inquiries from her staff because, like Milk, each of them was eager and driven to secure the success of the first shoot. She couldn't blame them; this staff had a lot to bargain on—if the show doesn't succeed, that means their job is on the line, which means an increase in the possibility of begging for scraps on the sidewalk. The thought alone sent shivers down her spine, so it made sense that everyone else was a lot more anxious today.
It also didn't help that some male staff were making snide comments about whom she assumed to be a female celebrity from her cast list.
Curious, her ears perked up, silencing the questions from her assistant PD and focusing in on their conversation.
"Did you see the newcomer today?" a male voice inquired, his tone suggesting anything but cordial.
"Love? Yeah, she's pretty hot. I bet she'll be popular after this show. I should totally get her number before then," another voice answered, the disrespectful remark agitating Milk.
'How unprofessional...' she thinks . If that statement didn't irritate her, the next one surely did.
"Make sure you screw her before she gets popular," the male quipped, laughing and unintentionally provoking an already uncongenial director.
With knitted eyebrows, Milk scoffed and looked up from the script, surveying the area for the two males who were guffawing by the snack table.
In less than five strides (because she doesn't like to waste time), she stood before the two males, eyes aflame with tight fists at her side, her strong grip crumpling the thick stack of paper within her grasp.
She opened her mouth to speak, her commanding tone contrasting her calm image. "Do you think it's proper to be talking about a cast member like that?"
The two men, who suddenly lacked the confidence to speak, lowered their heads, their eyes refusing to meet hers. Their refusal to nod or shake their heads only fueled her frustration, a faint tinge of red creeping onto her porcelain skin.
Director Medusa, a nickname Milk was given in her career. Director Medusa is known as the authoritarian director whose words carried more sting than venom, freezing her victims under her icy scolds. Her presence was commanding, her gaze piercing, and her authority unyielding, casting an aura of fear among those who crossed her path. She ruled her studio with an iron fist, leaving no room for dissent or defiance.
"What company are you from?" she asked with a charge of authority, earning stares and murmurs from the surrounding staff members.
The pair glanced at each other and lapsed into silence, clearly indicating their struggle to defend their positions.
Regardless, Milk shook her head and rolled her eyes at their cowardice and unprofessionalism. "It doesn't matter. I want you off my set and out of my studio."
The two looked up at the statement, their eyes bulging and mouths opening to refute her decision, but she did not hear any of it.
"Now!" she repeated, stepping closer. "Or I'll call the security for you."
Understanding their defeat and knowing the abysmal chance to redeem themselves, they scampered and bolted out of the studio, the situation subdued under murmurs and awes of appreciation.
She initially anticipated a calm (albeit stressful) day, but because she couldn’t control and ignore her easily influenced heart, the set quickly turned into a gossip frenzy. Surely as a result of her heroic action. Milk wasn’t one to vie for attention. She couldn’t care less for it and often tried to stay away from it. Although sometimes commanding attention, especially in her profession, is a necessity, nonetheless, Milk tried to overlook the situation by diverting her focus and shaking her head as she made her way toward her director's chair. For the remaining duration before the shoot, she kept her focus on the script in her hands and looked over her clipboard once more.
Honestly, such actions to her were nothing, she was merely sticking up for someone, and she'd want the same to be done if it were her. But to someone else—someone who watched from the sidelines—they felt genuinely moved and grateful for the act.
——-
Love brought a hand to her chest, soothing the anxiety that enveloped her heart.
She watched the debacle from behind thin black curtains and was about to make her way out before stopping at the mention of her name.
Initially, their objectifying comments disheartened her, but she had grown accustomed to men admiring her solely for her looks. In fact, she was immensely popular and probably got a lot of the things she wanted because of it. She was grateful that she was blessed with such beauty, yet at the same time, she hated how shallow a lot of people could be. Some only talked to her because she had a reputation, while others used her to get to someone who admired her. Sometimes her teachers and mentors only praise her superficially, and practically all of them fixate on her beauty, when in fact she was so much more than that. She's experienced it all, which is why she kept only a number of friends she could count on one hand, most of whom are her staff and those who shared her DNA. So, of course, upon observing the situation unravel in front of her, she felt grateful for her defender, even if said defender was her boss and had a heart thicker than wood.
Just as much as she was thankful, she was equally terrified upon hearing of the director’s tyrannical standing. She’s heard various accounts from other actors and actresses who have worked with her, all of them describing her as a stern and imposing director. And now, Love is scared out of her wits when her manager suggested she greet the woman, saying something along the lines of 'kiss up to her so you could get more screen time.'
"Do I have to?" Love asked, clutching her manager's arm, whining and pleading, yet knowing the answer, but she still hoped for a miracle anyway.
View glared at her and clasped her hand around the actress's wrist, dragging her into the presence of the intimidating director.
Up close, the girl was tall—a lot taller than Love herself—but what was even greater was the immense aura she carried. Now she understood why many people joked about being so intimidated by her that they could piss themselves, and she silently thanked any deity watching over her for making the wise choice to use the bathroom before this introduction.
There's no way she could ever make a complete fool of herself.
Or so she hopes.
Milk looked up from her clipboard, her gaze slightly aloof but nevertheless charismatic. Love watched her manager and Milk exchange somewhat benign greetings as she remained on the side, silently observing.
Love hadn't noticed it before, maybe because she was always wearing a cap, but wow, this woman was beautiful. She only gave that compliment to a few rare people, mostly out of courtesy, but Milk had a captivatingly unique type of beauty. Not a single flaw marred the porcelain perfection of her complexion, and her high nose and curved lips look as if they could be sculpted by Michelangelo himself. She only wore light makeup that was neither too bold nor too light but just accentuated the right features, mostly her eyes.
Hell, she was becoming smitten, and they haven't even exchanged words yet.
Oh right. Words.
It dawned on Love that she actually wasn't speaking when View nudged her and tilted her head towards the director.
Wide-eyed, Love glanced towards the director and felt herself melting under her scathing gaze. She picked up her remaining conscience and bowed lightly, mumbling, "I'm Love, nice to meet you. I look forward to working with you.”
The director remained mum and bowed back, even forcing herself to wear a smile that was so ingenuine that Love wished she didn't even see it. The sight alone drew her back to reality, a reality in which this director was not interested in her and was only acquainted with her because of her profession. It made sense, it's not like every girl she met had romantic inclinations towards females.
Disheartened, Love and her manager retreated to the waiting room after the exchange of pleasantries. As they left, Milk stole a final glance over her shoulder, a subtle smirk playing on her lips.
——-
The rest of the morning shoot went by as seamlessly as possible, or so Milk aimed for it to be.
Unfortunately, having a rookie cast member such as Love did not do so well in producing an entertaining episode. The girl lacked witty responses, gave little to no reaction, and took some jokes a little too personally. Milk watched with growing frustration every time Love wasn’t receptive to the emcee’s comments. Her awkward reactions not only jeopardized the production schedule but also began to strain Milk’s patience—which she didn’t have much of. If not for her script writers, she'd have flushed this project from the get-go, but thankfully everyone had at least an ounce of patience during this first shoot.
"Let's take five!" Milk announced, eliciting sighs of relief from her staff.
Almost instantly, four of her writers strode towards her, each of them donning a worried or frustrated expression. They didn't need to tell her what was wrong, she saw it through the monitors, but regardless, she allowed them to release their frustration.
"We have to recast her!" her veteran writer, June, suggested.
"Agreed." Nanon, her second-year writer, added.
The other two writers had their own complaints, but Milk subdued them beneath her thoughts.
The show was set to air in less than two weeks, casting another member would take up to a week, and who's to say that the new cast member would be any better?
Milk was not going to waste any more time or take a chance, for that matter. She has overcome problems worse than this—like that one time she irked two of her cameramen so badly that they quit on the spot. She ended up recruiting herself and her assistant producer to take over, and in the end, they managed to produce one of the highest viewer rating episodes of the season, proving to her staff that she was a well-rounded producer. Minus the whole cooperative part. She sucked at that. Real bad.
"It's fine, I'll talk to her," Milk said, silencing her staff who dispersed back to their positions.
Enervated, she sauntered towards Love at the snack table, who seemed too lost in her own world, grabbing cupcakes left and right, not even minding the judgmental stares that she was receiving.
Admittedly, Milk was amused and curious. How could someone with the title "celebrity' be so candid and unrestricted about her image?
Milk slowly approached the actress, whose attention still remained on the pastries laid out. It wasn't until she started clearing her throat did Love finally acknowledge her presence.
Wide-eyed, Love swallowed the last bit of her cupcake and spoke. "Hello ma’am! Did you need anything?"
“Ma’am?” Milk tilted her head, an eyebrow raised. She wasn’t that old.
“Director…?” Love scrunched her nose, wincing as she did so.
Milk offered a smile, a soft, somewhat genuine one in contrast to the discourteous grin Love received earlier. "There's no easy way to say this, but my writers find your reactions to be a little bit bland."
"Oh," was all Love managed to let out.
She wasn't offended, not even a little bit, honestly, she expected this. She's been told that she has quite a boring off-screen personality, and she didn't deny it one bit. In fact, her reclusive personality and cold facade made it so much easier to distinguish between true friends and people with ulterior motives. Plus, it fends off many of her suitors, which she did not have the heart to turn down—except those who are really insistent and borderline creepy, but even then she'd just file a restraining order and have it sent to their homes. Even so, her personality got her to where she was, she just didn't expect it to take a negative toll on her profession.
"You're an actress, right?” Milk spoke up once more, pulling Love out of her reverie. “You can act like what they're saying is a tad bit humorous."
Milk didn't mean to sound a bit disparaging or hurtful, but hey, she had to do what she had to do, even to the people that she liked—or tolerated. She just hoped it didn't offend Love too much.
The actress nodded and pulled her lips into a line. She can do it. It's acting. She's done it multiple times.
But somehow, when she visualized the predatory stares the emcees sent her way and the smug smirks they gave when she accidentally locked eyes, she couldn't ignore the repulsing feeling in her stomach. Plus, add in all the attempts they've made to (un)subtly flirt with her, their jokes disguising themselves as nothing but pick-up lines to try and impress her. She was definitely not impressed. These men were nothing but disgusting dogs that only looked at her as some type of treat or an accessory they wanted to wear. And mind you, she's had an actual dog as a co-star before, one that she had to permit receiving sloppy kisses all over her face. Even then, she could still withstand it and act like she had to enjoy it. This, however, was different.
Love opened her mouth, ready to refute, but she stopped when she met Milk’s eyes.
She saw in Milk’s eyes a resolute desperation, a look Love recognized in herself. So she let out a sigh and wore her most convincing smile. "I'll try my best."
"Thank you," Milk said and bowed before walking back to the crew.
The actress followed suit, walking back to the set before sparing a short glance towards the director, who nodded at her, silently mouthing 'good luck.'
Love smiled and braced herself for the oncoming teases that went her way, the director’s face being the only thing that infiltrated her mind.
Meanwhile, Milk found herself frequently monitoring Love’s screen, whether out of professionalism or worry, she didn't know. All she knew was she couldn't help but feel a twinge of concern for Love’s performance. As tension continued to mount on set, she found herself unexpectedly drawn to Love’s vulnerability, and wanted to help her.
-----
Day 4
"Okay, we're going to be doing an outside shoot for the school special," Milk announced to her crew, her eyes roaming the crowd for a certain individual, but to no avail, she resumed her speech.
"Let's get set up then," she finished, prompting the crowd to disperse and hurriedly rummaging through her clipboard, jotting down last-minute notes before the shoot.
But on the way to her office amidst the bustling energy of the set, she hears a set of distant murmurs that catch her attention, stopping her in her tracks and prompting her to listen.
She peers around the corner, and just behind a set of curtains that acted as dividers, she sees Love conversing with another cast member, the one who always wore googly eyes and a smug smile in front of the actress. He was tall, muscular and had visuals that matched well with Love should they pursue a romantic project in their future. In short, they looked good together.
Milk moves to continue her way to the office when she hears Love giggle uncomfortably. She strains her neck closer to the curtains and hears the actress awkwardly chuckle.
“We should go out together some time. As your senior, I feel obligated to show you the ropes…like how to perform certain scenes,” he says, attempting to flirt with her.
Milk unintentionally groans in disgust and rolls her eyes before pulling back the curtain.
“Mr. Pawat, we would all love to take you up on that offer,” she interrupts, startling the two members. She steps forward, ignoring Love who steps aside, and levels her eyes with the actor, which proved to be no challenging feat given her height.
She crosses her arms and stares him down. “Perhaps, you could demonstrate for us how to act like a professional member on set?” She suggests, her dark pupils narrowly fixated on him. Love watched on, observing her intensity and how she commanded submission while Ohm scoffs and glances at her in attempts to dismiss the director’s authority. It was childish in Love’s eyes. He looked like a kid who refused to admit they lost.
Milk notices this and adjusts her standing to block his vision of Love. “Mr. Pawat?”
Ohm finally looks at her, a subtle sneer playing on his lips and bows his head. “Yes, ma’am I understand.”
She beams at him politely. “Great! Let me know when we should schedule this get-together, I’ll let our staff know ahead of time,” she says before dragging Love away from his vicinity.
They end up in her office, and she turns to lock the door. For a second, Love thought she was the one getting in trouble now, but instead, she was surprised to see Milk gesturing to one of the chairs in front of her desk. She takes a seat, meanwhile Milk opts to lean against her office desk as she cools off and chugs on her water bottle. Love watches on, taking note of the small droplet of water as it escapes her lips and runs its way down her slender neck. Immediately, Love mentally slaps herself for this and shakes her head.
“Are you okay?” Milk asks, taking notice of her behavior. She understands, she assumes the actress probably feels ashamed or startled having to experience that from her costar. Given the fact that Love was turning very crimson just indicated to Milk how vexed she is. So the director stands up, makes her way over to her mini fridge and offers Love a water bottle.
“Take this,” she says, holding out the water bottle. “It might help you cool down.”
Love blinks at her before her eyes widen with realization. “C-cool down?”
“Yeah, you’re very red right now.”
Love gapes at the comment, her cheeks burning as she instinctively reaches up to hold them. Is she really that obvious? “It’s not what it looks like,” she says sheepishly, unable to meet Milk’s gaze, her eyes darting elsewhere.
“No, it’s alright. I feel the same way,” Milk reassures her, her tone gentle yet earnest.
At this, Love looks up at the director, her heart pounding so hard it feels like she just leaped off a cliff. “You do?” Love says, her voice barely above a whisper, her nerves evident as she bites her lip.
Milk nods, her expression serious as she stares ahead. “I can only imagine how many creeps you have to deal with daily,” she continues, her voice tinged with empathy.
“Creeps?” Love echoes, her brow furrowing in confusion.
“Yeah, like being unwarrantedly hit on by these assholes. I feel like there’s only so much you can handle before blowing up, you know?”
Love's heart sinks, understanding Milk’s words as nothing but professional concerns. “Yeah…I totally understand,” she says, disheartened.
“So if anything like that happens again, do make sure to let me know.”
Love merely nods, her eyes downcast as she wrestles with her own emotions.
Milk glances at her, her gaze lingering for a moment longer than necessary before she turns away. “Anyways, we should go back. We've got a lot of work to do.”
Love forces a smile, masking her disappointment. "Of course, let's get back to it."
—-----
Day 13
After a sigh of exhaustion, Milk entered her trailer, sinking onto the plush couch opposite the vanity table. With a gentle tug, she pulled the brim of her cap lower, welcoming the soothing darkness that enveloped her. As they wrapped up another exhausting day of shooting, Milk couldn't shake the memory of her interaction with Love.
During a hectic rehearsal, Milk accidentally knocked over a stack of scripts, sending papers flying everywhere. Feeling flustered and overwhelmed by the tight schedule, Milk scrambles to gather them up, her frustration evident.
Amidst the chaos, Love notices Milk's distress and swiftly comes to her aid. With a reassuring smile, Love helps gather the scattered scripts, her calm demeanor a soothing balm to Milk's frazzled nerves.
As the rehearsal continued, Milk found herself watching Love with newfound appreciation, not only for her immense improvement on set but also for her kindness and generosity offstage.
Like that other day when they were shooting outside under the scorching heat, Love had bought the entire staff refreshments and cooling packs. Milk specifically fixated on their encounter when Love walked up to her, small droplets of sweat lining her hairline while at the same time holding out to her a coolpack. In that moment of shared connection, Milk felt a sense of warmth, both physically for the caring gesture, and emotionally, from Love’s thoughtfulness and consideration. She appreciated the effort Love made to offer comfort to others around her despite her own possible discomfort. For the first time in a while, she felt her defenses start to falter.
Her attention, once solely dedicated to the intricacies of her craft, began to veer towards the subtle symphony of Love's gestures and expressions. Whenever their paths intertwined on set, her gaze would linger a beat longer than necessary, her focus drawn to the subtle nuances in Love's demeanor.
With each passing encounter, Milk's gaze lingered longer than mere professionalism demanded, her mind enraptured by the delicate dance of emotions that seemed to envelop Love like a shimmering aura.
At first, she convinced herself it was admiration, perhaps even envy of Love's effortless charm and professionalism. Yet, as the days unfolded and their paths continued to intersect, Milk couldn't ignore the flutter of her own heart or the gentle tug of fascination that Love's presence evoked within her.
It was in the quiet moments, stolen between scenes and shared glances, that Milk began to unravel the true nature of her feelings. The way Love's smile seemed to brighten in her presence, igniting a radiant warmth that mirrored the sun's embrace. Or the infectious melody of Love's laughter, a soft symphony that echoed through the studio and stirred something deep within Milk's soul.
But amidst the chaos of lights and cameras, such sentiments could easily be misconstrued. To her brain, Milk's heightened awareness of Love might seem nothing more than professional admiration, a desire to learn and grow from a fellow artist. Yet, in the secret chambers of her heart, it couldn't deny the blossoming realization that her feelings for Love could transcend the bounds of mere admiration.
Knock! Knock!
"Come in!" Milk shouted, setting her cap down and feeling relief for the sudden reprieve from her confusing thoughts.
Sitting up from the couch, Milk met those sets of eyes—the very reason that had shaken her resolve—and began to smooth her hair.
"Ms. Pat!" Milk exclaimed, receiving a shy smile from the person mentioned. "Wh-what are you doing here?"
Love closed the door behind her and moved towards the chair across from the director.
The actress shifted her chair closer, close enough for Milk to get a waft of her perfume and send her senses into overdrive. Her body was beginning to betray her, and she came to the conclusion that, at this point, making statements would be as futile as trying to ignore her feelings.
Love sat up in the chair, her face expressionless and her eyes void of that familiar warmth. It was concerning, nonetheless, she found herself panicking at the small distance between them, beads of sweat forming beneath her cap.
The brunette inhaled deeply, her lids fluttering close and her body inching closer towards the director, completely invading her personal space.
"Ms. Pat?" She uttered but received no response, the actress was merely a breadth of two fists away.
Although a bit taken aback, Milk remained planted, perhaps out of the knowledge that Love wouldn't do anything harmful to her or the fact that she was enraptured by the sight in front of her. Love was beautiful up close. Her soft marble-white skin, with hints of delicacy, is inviting to the touch. Her plump lips had a tinge of pink lipstick masked with a strawberry fragrance that piqued Milk’s curiosity to taste. Indeed, she was affected because, possibly out of instinct or desire, she was drawing closer. Maybe it was the aromatic scent of Love’s perfume, or the soft lighting that grazed her skin, making her look all the more ethereal. Whatever it was, it was dominating her senses and, most importantly, her judgement.
Milk found herself leaning closer to Love, her eyes naturally closing. But with one swift move, Love ducked her head and fell over her knees.
Startled, Milk leaned back, her face likely flushing a deep crimson, as she instinctively covered it with one hand. Her other hand reflexively reached out to catch Love
But the latter wasn't falling. Or fainting. She was bowing?
"Wh-what are you doing?" Milk asked, her voice coming out a little flustered.
"I'm sorry!" Love responded, head still over her knees, tone stern and apologetic.
Milk blinked, initially confused, but couldn’t help but burst out into laughter at the absurdity of what she thought was going to happen. The entire situation was too funny to ignore, with Love bowing for who knows what reason and her almost kissing the actress. God, what was she thinking? She laughed even harder.
What was even more bitterly humorous is that Milk is now fully aware that she can no longer deny her feelings for the girl. Perhaps that's what’s got her laughing like a crazy maniac in front of the subject of her infatuation. But she couldn't stop. Her—the girl who's supposedly the Hitler of GMMTV studio, the one with the heart of stone, melting and losing her prudence because of her feelings towards a girl she barely knew. If Love knew—oh, if only she knew—then maybe she'd laugh at her too.
Even amidst all this, Love sat back in her chair, smiling at the director, who's too immersed in her fit of laughter and soon joined her because Milk’s laugh was just that addicting. If Milk knew just how much she had an effect on Love, then maybe she wouldn't be laughing too hard in the first place.
Milk calmed herself, seeing how Love was laughing with (or at?) her, and gradually reclaimed whatever semblance of sanity she had left.
Now that they've both calmed down, Milk spoke once more. "So let me ask again, why were you bowing slash apologizing?"
Love presented her with a bashful smile. "Well, my manager said that you looked rather distressed recently, and I thought that it was..." she paused, clearing her throat and trying to garner some courage. "Because of me."
The director’s eyes bulged at her statement. The flush in her cheeks intensified at the thought of her emotions being discovered. 'She can't know, I'm barely around her!' she thought to herself.
At least her brain had some remaining logic.
She cleared her throat once more, drawing her eyebrows and feigning perplexity. "Could you elaborate?"
Love stared at her and grunted, before finally revealing her feelings. "Honestly, at first I was annoyed. Like, why does she feel that way towards me?"
Milk felt slightly offended by the response, and raised her eyebrows. Though she knew fairly well that Love likely harbored no suspicion of her feelings towards her. Regardless, her heart got the best of her. Again. "Well, I'm sorry. I can't control—"
"Like, am I that bad of an actress? That I can't do the one thing you asked of me?" Love interjected, seemingly in her own thoughts. Her tone sounded a little somber, and her eyes roamed to her hands, twiddling them in attempts to ignore the knot in her stomach.
Milk softly smiled at the sight of Love innocently criticizing herself. This is exactly why she was falling for the girl—because of her innocence and determination to do good—for herself and for others around her. She was more than just a pretty face. She had a heart of gold.
"That's not it," Milk reassured, placing a hand on Love’s fidgeting pair to comfort her. In the back of her mind, she loved the size difference between their hands, finding solace in the subtle intimacy between them.
"I'm just upset because of the shoot, that's all,” she said, trying to comfort the actress. Milk drew back her hand, and crossed her arms, a subtle gesture in an attempt to contain her emotions. “I mean, think about it, wouldn't you be stressed out if a dozen plus people were barking in your ear all day?”
Love presented her with a smile and looked back down at her hands, missing the warmth that previously encapsulated it. “Yeah, I guess so. Thank you for the reassurance.”
"Me? I did nothing. Thank you for reaching out to me just in case I was mad at you," Milk comforted. "Now, let's head home and rest up for tomorrow," she added, using it as a gateway to escape the awkward situation.
Love nodded and followed her out of the trailer, her mind replaying Milk inching closer when she had her eyes open to bow. Just what would've happened if she hadn't moved at all?
------
Day 14
"Alright! Let the scavenger hunt begin!" Namtan announced through her megaphone, stimulating the crew to scatter into their assigned groups.
For this segment, Milk was assigned to overlook Love’s recording, a decision attributable to Namtan, who was well aware of the girl’s small crush on Love. Somehow, Milk made a stupid decision to think it was a good idea to tell Namtan—her assistant PD, her best friend of ten years, and the reason for most of her torment—that she may have developed feelings for a certain actress. Namtan, upon hearing this, squealed and rambled on about being the cupid to her new blossoming puppy love, swearing to get her and Love together by the end of the show's season. So it was no mystery as to how she ended up being part of the staff on Love’s solo shoot, amongst three others: two cameramen and one of her writers, Nanon.
They were strolling around the edges of the park with Love leading the crew, and they stopped when the girl thoroughly searched through the bushes.
Nanon lightly murmured beside her, expressing concern that the microphone might capture their conversation. "You seem awfully less tyrannical today."
Milk paid no heed to the comment, her eyes trained on the actress, who was still adamant that there were objects hidden somewhere in the shrubbery.
Milk had no reason to explain herself or her sudden change in attitude, albeit knowing it was because of the girl she was spectating.
It was cute watching Love scoot up and down behind the hedges like a bunny, her eyebrows sewn together in concentration, lost in her own world, just like the first time Milk approached her.
Nanon followed her line of sight and watched how Milk’s eyes softened, a small smile gracing her lips, which was odd in the writer's perspective because the director never even showed a fraction of that happiness towards her staff. And almost instantly, like a light bulb flashing in his head, Nanon gasped, cupping a hand to his mouth.
The reaction alarmed Milk who stared at him, wide-eyed, mumbling a 'What?'
Nanon pulled her aside, far enough from the three, who were heavily immersed in their objectives. "You like her!" he exclaimed, Milk’s eyes growing three times bigger, her face now flushed.
See. She was never good at hiding her emotions.
"I-I do not!" Milk responded, inwardly cursing herself for stuttering.
"Yes, you do!" Nanon affirmed, a little bit louder.
Milk groaned, fire growing in her eyes at his teasing. "Mr. Kor! Don't forget that I'm still your boss! Focus!"
Like a chipmunk scampering to the trees, Nanon sealed his lips and walked back to safety in numbers.
Milk followed suit, sighing at her sudden outburst before placing herself beside him. Honestly, she shouldn't have done that, it was unprofessional of her, but the idea of her affection being discovered and endlessly teased just brought out the wrong emotions in her. Now, she was faced with heavy guilt, and her conscience was eating her up.
The director groaned and grumbled an apology. "I'm sorry."
Nanon glanced beside him, still afraid to make eye contact, and bowed, opting to give a silent response.
"Really, Nanon, I apologize. I shouldn't have blown up like that or threatened you either."
The writer shrugged, still pondering words to exchange with his boss. He's never seen Milk this soft-hearted, usually she would mindlessly and guiltlessly spew out slander and deprecating words of disapproval, that's how she earned her nickname after all. However, this new side to Milk was quite a surprise, and maybe this convinced him just how bad the director has got it for the actress.
"It's fine. I understand. I too, do not handle teases from my friends that well," he explained. "Not that we're friends, that is."
Milk pouted, seemingly showing more emotion than anger and solemnity these past few days. "I'd like to think that we are. I mean, I trust you guys. You are a part of the most loyal team in the GMMTV studio."
Nanon smiled, having been thankful to be one of the first to bear sight of the new Milk, and hoped that she would be making a recurring appearance for good.
"Ah!" A lilting scream pierced their conversation.
"Ms. Pat! Are you okay?!" a cameraman called out, prompting Milk and Nanon to rush over.
The actress was on the floor, cradling her ankle, her face twisted in pain.
Milk was the first to scramble on the dirt, immediately taking Love’s side as the other two cameramen radioed for assistance on their walkie-talkie.
"W-what happened?!" Milk frantically asked, taking hold of Love’s leg and lightly pressing her fingers around the ankle.
"Ow!" Love responded to the touch.
"I think she fractured her ankle," Nanon said, sitting a little distant from the two. He was never good with broken bones, or dislocated ones, for that matter. Any time he even saw one, he almost fainted, so he braced himself from looking when Milk slid off Love’s shoes. Though his curiosity did get the best of him, he took a quick glance down to the protruding lump on Love’s ankle and immediately dizzied, ultimately blacking out.
"Really?!" Milk groaned at the unconscious writer. "Thank you for the help!" she mumbled and looked back at Love. "Do you think you can walk? Or limp?"
Love nodded and circled her arm around the director, attempting to pull herself up before shouting and slumping back down at the immediate sting from her ankle. She looked back up at Milk and shook her head, eyes laced with sadness, arms remaining around the former.
Milk smiled, hoping to comfort Love a little bit, and tucked a lock of brown behind her ear. Keeping her hand placed on the actress' cheek, she stared at her, forcing Love to look into her eyes.
Luckily, she's undergone training for accidents like these and, unfortunately, has had her fair share of popping bones back into their sockets. "Keep your eyes on mine, okay?" Milk said, retracting her hand from Love’s cheek and trailing it down to the ankle, her other hand finding its way on the balms of the actress' foot.
"This might hurt a little bit, but do you trust me?" she asked.
Love bobbed her head.
"Okay, on the count of three."
"One."
"Two."
Just milliseconds before the 'three,' Milk pushed, evoking a loud groan from Love who smothered her head on the director's shoulder. Recovering from the surge of pain, Love lifted her face to meet Milk’s eyes, which were filled with relief.
"So you want to tell me how you got this?" Milk motioned to the previously bone jutting ankle.
Love laughed painfully and hid her smile on Milk’s shoulder, too embarrassed to speak. Nonetheless, she thought she at least owed her knight in shining armor (again) an explanation.
"Umm, I fell..." she explained, earning a 'I totally didn't know that' look from Milk that prompted her to chuckle.
"I fell trying to get that." Love pointed to a red object placed atop a branch that was ten meters off the ground.
Milk shook her head, eyebrows knitting together. "I am so going to scold whoever thought it was a good idea to put that there."
"No!" Love yelped, a little too loud, gripping Milk’s shoulder tighter. "I-I mean it was my fault. I was careless, don’t scold anyone, please?" the actress requested, looking back at Milk, who knew herself that she couldn't refuse anything Love asked of her, so she let out a reassuring grin instead.
"Sure."
"Thank you."
Milk cleared her throat, preparing herself for a certain dilemma which ultimately led to the most logical solution. "I'm going to carry you. Is that fine?" she inquired.
Slightly flushed, Love nodded, tightening her hold around Milk’s neck.
Tucking her hand under the actress’ knees, Milk lifted Love with ease, kicking the writer to consciousness in the process.
"What happened?!" Nanon exclaimed, hysterically scanning his surroundings.
Milk laughed along with Love who buried her face in her shoulder. She loved the smell of the director's clothes, a mix of vanilla and roses. Perhaps, she should get hurt some more if it meant being so close to her.
"Come on! We have to get her to the hospital,” Milk said, nudging Nanon with her foot.
Nanon looked up and grinned at the sight. "My, my, what a hero you are!"
Milk blushed profusely and kicked some dirt at the writer, earning a playful scowl from Love. "Sorry," she let out, the apology bringing a smile to Love’s face.
'God I'm going soft,' s he thought, enjoying the weight of Love in her arms and the latter snuggling deeper into the crook of Milk’s neck.
And maybe just maybe, Milk thinks it's alright to feel again.
-----
Day 21
The next time she saw Love was about a week after her dismissal from
the hospital.
They halted all shoots upon the news of the accident, wanting to give the actress time to heal (upon Milk’s insistence, of course), and to their dismay, the studio agreed, pushing back their pilot date, giving Milk a lot more time to organize their schedule. And her feelings.
With her newfound personality, Milk managed to open her social circle, now frequently hanging out with Namtan and Nanon. Though there were multiple occasions when she'd get annoyed by their teases, then again, she was their boss. So almost every time they've crossed their boundaries, all she needed to do was propose the idea of the two delinquents needing to find another job, and they'd be quick to scramble out their apologies. It was mean and unprofessional, but hey, they weren't scared of her anymore; they took every opportunity to tease her about her crush. She had to do something about it.
Namtan prodded Milk’s ribs, disturbing her from looking over the schedule details. “Hey, Love is here! Aren't you excited?" She asked with a little hint of mischief in her eyes.
It seems like she was more excited about Love’s return than Milk was. And for what reason? Who knows?
"Why are you so excited?" Milk questioned, walking over to the snack table to pick up a cupcake.
Namtan scoffed at Milk’s lack of enthusiasm. "I don't know. Maybe it's just the love in the air," she joked before sternly speaking to the taller girl. "And for your information, I was close with her when we worked together on her web drama. But you wouldn't know that because you were such a devil then. So you better be nice to me or else I'll tell you to Love!"
Milk glared at the younger girl, screaming at her for giving her such a demonic title. "Yah!"
"Do you deny it?" Namtan tested, taking a step back at the possibility of having an object hurled towards her.
Milk rolled her eyes, tugging the bill of her cap down to hide her frustration. "Shut up. I'm better now, aren't I?"
"Yes, you are." The young producer chuckled, taking a chance to step forward. "You really have gone soft."
"Tell me about it," Milk mumbled.
Namtan prodded her once more. "So any plans to woo her today?"
"Namtan, we're working right now. There's no time for games, especially since we have to abide by the new tight-fit schedule I've assembled. By the way, have you looked over it?" Milk asked, nibbling on the pastry, deciding whether she should finish it or not.
The short girl let out a nervous grin as if she were caught in some type of act.
"Namtan."
Namtan slowly retreated to the set, a sure answer never leaving her mouth. "I'll look over it with Love!" She declared before scramming in the opposite direction of Love's trailer.
"That's not even where her trailer is!" Milk bellowed, shaking her head, before she resumed her attention on the pastries.
"Whose trailer?" a female voice questioned, one that sounded very similar to that of a short actress.
And just like Milk assumed, there she was: the beautiful actress, eyes revitalized, and skin tinged with colour as if she hadn't previously been admitted into a hospital.
"L-love," Milk greeted, her stammer making a reappearance. It astounds her that only the actress could make her fall into a stuttering mess. But then again, that just proves all the more how badly Love affects her. "Wh-what—hi," she managed to let out.
Love giggled, her arms clasped behind her.
Milk reveled in the sound, missing it during its absence.
"Hello," Love returned the greeting, her doe eyes alluring Milk. "I was just wondering if I could treat my savior to dinner."
"D-dinner?" Milk inwardly winced and made a mental note to admit herself to speech therapy.
The actress bobbed her head, biting on her lower lip and averting her gaze to the ground. "If that's fine with you, of course."
The director internally squealed at the sight, fighting every urge to show her excitement.
"Mhm," was all she said, her response short and unconvincing, only because she didn't want her emotions to take the upper hand.
Love pouted, visibly dismayed. "Really? I don't want to force you, if you don't want to—"
"No!" Milk yelped, her enthusiasm catching Love by surprise. "I mean, yes, that'd be incredible. Very good. Amazing. I love food!"
'How stupid do I sound right now?'
She inwardly grimaced, envisioning her friends' array of comments as if answering her internal question.
Nanon: 'Incredibly'
Namtan: 'Very'
Regardless, the response seems well received by the actress, who was snickering and trying to conceal her own giddiness. "That's good. Are you free after the shoot today?"
Milk nodded, wishing she could hide her embarrassment behind her cap right now, but opted to look away instead.
"Great. I'll see you later!" Love said, bidding her farewell as she walked back to her trailer.
Milk leaned back into the table, using it to stabilize herself. "God Milk, if you can barely hold a conversation, how can you hold a dinner?" She mumbled to herself.
-----
Just like Milk forecasted, the dinner was awkward. Worse than awkward, heck, it's slightly uncomfortable. But maybe that’s just on her part.
It's not because of Love, no, it's because of Milk and her inability to talk to people she has feelings for. However, she can't be blamed, this is one of her first dates (if you call it that) in five years. Is it a date? Love never mentioned a date, so maybe not. So do blame her a little for her inexperience and lack of keeping up with common flirtatious greetings.
But luckily for her, Love finds the silence pleasant and enjoyable, plus add in the fact that Milk coincidentally chose one of her favorite restaurants to dine in. Now she gets to enjoy her food in peace, knowing that she won't look like an idiot in the presence of her crush.
"So..." Milk began, finally attempting to initiate a conversation. She lightly stabbed the spaghetti dish and twirled her fork.
"Are you enjoying your pasta?"
Love grinned, finishing her food. "Yes, this is delicious," she said, slurping up a pasta noodle and accidentally splashing some on Milk’s top.
“Oh my god,” she mumbles, gaping at the fresh blob of red slowly staining the collars of the pristine white button-up. Panicked, she rushed to grab a napkin, anticipating a disgusted reaction from Milk. However, she was pleasantly surprised to find the director giggling instead.
Easily reading Love’s worries, she patted down the smudge with her own napkin and offered Love some reassurance. "It's alright.”
Love, who's too humiliated to respond, just watched, her hands a little hesitant to pick up her utensil once more. Milk, who noticed her discomfort, looked up at Love and noticed a little blemish on her cheek. She instinctively held her hand out, her thumbs lightly brushing Love’s cheek to wipe off a speck of pasta sauce, the action unintentionally stunting the actress once more.
"You had some, uh…sorry," she says, withdrawing her hand at the sight of the embarrassed actress, and looking down at her food.
Recovering from her temporary paralysis, Love bowed her head lightly. "Thank you."
Milk shook her head and waved it off. “Don’t mind it."
But to Love, such a simple action was more than nothing. In fact, all of Milk’s actions meant so much more than nothing; every time Love found herself in some type of trouble, Milk would be there to pick up her imperfections, eventually letting herself grow dependent on the director. Such actions stirred a feeling in her gut, and she found herself wanting to express her honest feelings towards the girl—feelings where she wouldn't be tiptoeing around her words or saying things with different meanings. This time, she wanted to be genuine.
Love glanced up from her plate, eyes laced with sincerity. "No. I mean, thank you for everything," she repeated, catching Milk’s gaze across the table. Her dark orbs gleamed with warmth, further convincing Love to let everything out of her chest. "Thank you for helping me, looking out for me, and saving me."
Milk smiled, unable to hold her gaze when she felt her cheeks going flush. "I-I-it's fine, really," she responded, berating herself silently. She needs to book that speech therapist asap, it was getting ridiculous at this point.
She cleared her throat, hoping that Love wouldn't notice how red her face was. "What I mean to say is. I'm glad to be of help, but honestly, I should be thanking you."
And she was sincerely thankful, not because of Love’s cooperation but just her presence alone, bringing a whole different light to Milk’s life—inside and outside of work.
Love's cheeks took on a faint blush, opting for a nod rather than words in response.
The rest of the meal went by as smoothly as it could be, with the two exchanging what they hoped were fitting questions, and occasionally managing to throw in a couple of meaningful glances here and there.
By the end of dinner, they both wondered whether a day would come where they could both talk to each other without blushing like lovesick teenagers.
——-
Day 25
In spite of the semi-awkward dinner, Milk managed to get through the shoot with casual smiles and stolen glances from Love. It wasn't uncomfortable. In fact, it was probably the most pleasant exchange she's received from the latter. Not that any other exchange was displeasing, it's just that after the dinner, something changed and Milk just couldn't put a finger on it.
All night, she repeatedly wondered whether the dinner was a foundation for a potential relationship or a budding friendship. Some parts of her wanted the former but the other parts (the cowardly ones) would logically opt for the latter. It would be deemed unprofessional for her to start a romantic relationship with a cast member and not to mention, problematic, since Love did have some fans, die-hard ones that would probably shoot any of her romantic partners on sight. Heck, probably anyone for that matter.
So maybe getting together with Love isn't such a great idea after all.
"Alright! Thank you all for the hard work today, I'll see you on Monday!" Milk declared, bowing to the remaining crew on site.
They all bid her farewell before returning to their posts, light drops of liquid suddenly tapping the asphalt.
Milk looked up at the gray sky, the same droplets clinging onto her cheeks as they slowly rolled down. She should've seen it coming. Thank god they finished the outside shoots beforehand.
The droplets pelted harder.
Quickly, she ran to her car and gladly entered its refuge, hastily turning the engine on to enjoy the warmth emitted from her air conditioner. At times like these does she truly enjoy being a successful director. She couldn't even imagine being cold and having polluted water dampen your clothes, hauling the additional weight until you made it to someplace dry. And add in the possibility of falling ill. How truly grateful she is for the existence of cars and its heated a/c's.
Pulling out of her parking space, she catches sight of a familiar van pulled over by the side of the road, three hooded figures hunched over one side of the vehicle, a clear indication of a flat tire.
Disregarding the guilt in her heart, she opts to pass by, hoping another person blessed with a kind heart would help them. But she finds herself skidding to a halt upon seeing an already-getting drenched female by the three crouching figures. And she knew that figure all too well, she's the reason behind Milk’s sleepless nights.
Cursing herself, she pulls up next to the vehicle, getting out of her own car and withdrawing from its much needed warmth to lend a helping hand (which she would not have given if it weren't for Love—selfish? We know).
"Need a hand?" Milk called out, already crouching by the punctured tire. Love looked up, rendered speechless because Milk of all people was the last person she expected to be here.
"It's fine!" a female voice responded, one that had a higher lilt than the one she's grown accustomed to. Now, Milk looked up, tying the voice's owner to Love’s manager, View.
"Um, if it's possible, could you just take her home?" the girl continued, gesturing to the shivering actress beside her.
Milk nodded, getting up from her spot to walk over to the brunette, swiftly placing her waterproof jacket around Love’s shoulders. "Why don't you have an umbrella?" She asked.
"Weather app said it was going to be sunny all day, I didn't think I needed one,” Love mumbled through chattering teeth.
Milk said nothing, only affirming with a nod and continued to quickly lead her into the passenger side of her car. She hurriedly closed the door behind the actress before running to her own side and looking at Love from the driver's side, it further proved her point as to why everyone needs a car, especially a car with an outstanding heating system.
And she enjoyed this feature even more once she saw the brunette comfortably settling in her seat, a slight drowsiness evident in her eyes. Then before she knew it, Love was out cold (maybe literally).
——-
For what seemed like a short amount of time, Love woke up to an unfamiliar environment donning white walls and marble flooring.
She had sat up from the soft cushioning of a couch and looked around the unidentified living room. She didn't know whether to be scared or impressed by her surroundings because everywhere she turned, it had class and luxury written all over it; gold awards lining dust-free shelves, a black grand piano positioned at the corner of the room and a wide scaled flat screen tv just in front of the sofa she was sitting on. Whoever's place this was must be rich, and she only knew a handful of wealthy people, all of whose homes she had previously visited.
So whose was this?
She got up from the seat, immediately catching sight of a tall figure busying herself in the adjoined kitchen, and soon all of her unanswered questions seemingly vanished.
The actress lightly walked over, but loud enough to make her presence known. It proved to be effective when Milk momentarily looked up from her dish to offer her a comforting smile. Love took this as a welcoming invite to place herself in front of the cooking woman who seemed too focused on the task at hand.
"Where am I?" Love questioned, even though she assumed that she's in Milk’s apartment. Although confirming the veracity of her doubts wouldn't hurt anyone.
Milk looked up from her pot, stirring it before enclosing it with a lid. "We're at my apartment," she answers, verifying Love’s assumptions. Although it seemed it did nothing to ease the brunette's many questions as a brooding expression graced her face. Maybe she should ask the basics like how or why she was there to begin with. Before she could ask, Milk answered, "Well, you were fast asleep in the car and I didn't want to intervene just to ask for your address."
Love nodded, her tight expression easing as she listened. “Did I say that out loud?”
Milk chuckled. “No, I was just guessing. Plus…" she stopped, clearing her throat, a slight pink tinting her ears. "Your clothes were soaked and I thought you'd get sick so I changed them out for you," she said, bringing Love’s attention down to the pajama set she had previously had not taken notice of.
"Don't worry, I shut my eyes and covered you up in a blanket while doing so," Milk added in, the statement further enhancing the tinge of red which was now crawling on her neck.
'She saw me naked?!'
Absorbing this information, a faint warmth had crept up on her cheeks, the actress suddenly wanting to tuck her face beneath the borrowed sweater, but stopped when she realized how creepy and weird that would've looked. So, she looked down instead.
"Thank you," Love uttered, looking bashful.
"No problem."
Not wanting this situation to get even more awkward (because what if Love thinks that she's still thinking about her naked body, which she genuinely didn’t look at) she introduced their dinner instead. "I made you soup, just in case you caught a cold," the girl sheepishly let out. "But if you want, there’s other food in the fridge," she says, stopping before her eyes boomed with panic. "Or I can order out if you don't want my leftovers," she quickly added. ‘Good save, Milk.’
Love laughed. "I'm fine, I'm pretty sure I'll be happy with whatever you make me," she said, hopefully reassuring Milk of her worries. And making it known how grateful she was for her actions, because now it's the third time Milk has saved her, this time from her car troubles.
At this point, she should just officially crown the girl as an official bodyguard or a knight at her service but Milk already had a title much more deserving than being her servant. In fact, if we're talking complete emotions here, it was the complete opposite—Love was already on her knees, her feelings laid out for Milk to take and hopefully if the time came, the latter would.
"You okay?" The director asked, taking Love by surprise. Were her worries that obvious?
"Yeah, I'm fine."
Milk smiled warmly as she ladled generous portions of tom yum soup into two bowls and carried them over to the living room coffee table. Love followed behind, settling onto the couch she had occupied earlier. Milk briefly stepped away to retrieve the utensils, and in her absence Love couldn't help but revel in the comfort of the oversized sweater she had borrowed, its soft fabric enveloping her like a warm embrace. Eventually, Milk returned and joined her back on the couch, that same warmth emanating from the sweater’s owner. Soon, they were both seated together, enjoying a movie Love chose while savoring the comforting warmth of the soup in their hands.
Somehow, after the movie ended, they found themselves watching Love’s web drama despite the actress' protests. Yet, paradoxically, Love found herself enjoying Milk’s teasing and laughing along with her, choosing to focus on Milk's elated expressions rather than her own performance on TV. Eventually, Milk’s teases came to an end, her expression turning serious as her gaze remained fixed on the screen, lost in deep thought.
"So, why acting?" Milk asked, now turning to Love who averted her eyes a little too late. Milk raised an eyebrow teasingly, catching Love in the act.
Love shook her head and cleared her throat to dismiss the awkwardness that was her. "Well first," she said, gesturing to her face which earned herself a chuckle from the director.
"Agreed,” Milk said, nodding in approval.
Love smiled, looking down, her expression a little more somber now. She's never openly expressed her reasons for going into the acting industry because every time she did, she had to fight off the tears that came with it. But since it was Milk and the overwhelming compassion in her eyes, she thought she could make an exception. Even if she ended up as a crying mess.
"My mom," she answered softly, her voice tinged with both fondness and sadness. "She guided me into it, and after she passed..." Love paused, her words catching in her throat as she fought back tears. With a shaky breath, she composed herself, unaware of the tears that threatened to spill over. "Umm, I figured I'd fulfill her wishes. It's not like I had any other dreams to pursue anyway," she finished with a weak attempt at humor, a faint smile playing at the corners of her lips, masking the pain lurking beneath.
Milk bobbed her head, allowing the information to seep in. She didn't know whether she should comfort the girl or try to empathize with her own story. She reasoned they weren't close enough so she chose the latter, recollecting memories of her own childhood.
"For me, it was my father,” she said, looking up to meet Love’s eyes who were intently gazing at her own. This time she found interest rather than sadness and she took pride in being able to comfort her from afar, so she continued. "He was a prominent figure in the industry. People respected him a lot, me included. As a child, I always copied everything he did, filming small things, taking pictures and so forth. He even bought me my first camera when I was five,” Milk smiled, recalling the memories of a young brunette excitedly squirming under her father's grasp as they both fiddled with a video camera.
Then, her face flickered into a contortment of sadness, much like Love’s from seconds before.
"He also passed away when I was twelve," she disclosed quietly, the weight of the memory heavy in her words. She didn't know why she was sharing this now. After all, she had already comforted Love, so there seemed to be no reason to delve into her own past. Yet, under Love’s gentle gaze, she found herself opening up.
"I decided to continue his legacy, even though it's in complete contrast to the way he ran things," she continued, a wistful smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "He was nice, I am not," she joked, a hint of self-deprecation in her tone, masking the deeper complexities of her feelings about her father's legacy.
But Love didn't laugh, instead she moved closer and took Milk’s hand in her own. "You are nice. You may not be conventionally kind but you are nice," she said, her voice gentle yet firm as she locked gazes with Milk, hoping to convey her sincerity. "You genuinely care for your staff, you want them to succeed just like you. So even if you yell at them and say mean words to them, your intentions are earnest and genuine, which makes you nice. You're nice."
Some time during the ramble of compliments, the aura altered—maybe due to Love’s genuine flatteries or just Milk reaching her limitations to restrict herself in Love’s presence—because somehow, they managed to close the distance between them, their faces now mere inches apart.
"Besides," Love whispered, her warm breath teasing Milk’s lips, encouraging her to lean in. "You have saved me on multiple occasions."
Milk’s gaze flickered from the brunette's eyes down to her lips. The enticing sight parched her mouth, prompting her to lick her own lips. "Indeed I have.”
Love took notice of the gesture and smirked, a surge of confidence coursing through her. With a gentle touch, she traced her finger lightly along Milk’s collarbone, her voice taking on a seductive tone reserved for moments like these, moments usually faked and bared before cameras, she spoke, seductive and sultry. "Is there any way I could repay you?"
Milk smiled, her heart pounding in her chest. "You already took me out for dinner," she said, her voice barely above a whisper as she bit her lip, her eyes never leaving Love’s lips.
"Which you paid for," Love interjected, returning Milk’s intense gaze. The effect it had on Milk was palpable; she exhaled sharply, frustration evident in the sound. Now that did something to Love, the sound eliciting somersaults in her stomach. If she didn't have Milk’s mouth on her now, she would have to curse the gods for this unnecessary torment.
"So,"she asked once more, hoping Milk would catch the meaning and take the bait. "Is there any other way?"
Luckily, Milk did gain some courage, answering the question with a taste of cherry fragrant lips, mouths clashing to prove the veracity of their emotions.
Love failed to suppress a moan at the touch, the sudden contact bringing out emotions of relief, happiness and a lot of pent up sexual frustration. So it surprised her even more, when her body moved on its own accord, pushing the director against the back of the couch and straddling her with both legs pinned to her sides. This feeling was new, she wasn't following a script, this was her own instinct, her own wants needing to be satisfied and this sudden change of behavior astounded her. She liked it and she hoped Milk did too.
Of course Milk did, it would be a lie to say that she wasn't enjoying this— Love on top of her, reciprocating her feelings, groaning at her touches—and even if she were to reject it, her body was saying otherwise. It was obvious in the warmth that pooled in her stomach and even lower than that area, she hadn't touched anyone since her and she forgot just how good it was.
Lost in each other’s touch, they lost track of time, their fingers roaming over and under clothing. Milk's fingers danced over Love's skin, tracing delicate patterns beneath the fabric of her shorts, her touch sending shivers down Love's spine. With each caress, Milk's hands ventured higher, exploring the contours of Love's body until they settled on her bare waist.
Feeling Milk's touch ignite a fire within her, Love's own hands moved instinctively. Seeking to reciprocate the desire that pulsed between them, he began to unbutton the clasps of Milk's button-up shirt, the anticipation building with each undone button. But the gesture didn't go unnoticed, a sudden touch halted Love's movements, causing her to pull back in surprise. Doubt clouded her features as she met Milk's gaze, uncertainty flickering in her eyes.
"I'm sorry," Love uttered softly.
The tall girl shook her head, her expression conflicted. "No, ummm," she began, her eyes flickering with unspoken thoughts before she looked back up at Love. "Are you sure about this?"
Love responded with a warm smile, answering Milk’s doubts with a trail of pecks from her lips to her ear. "You had me since Day 1," she whispered, her breath sending a flush of warmth across Milk’s cheeks.
Milk gently tugged at Love’s chin, pulling her back to her lips, teeth lightly grazing her lower lip before muttering something. "Wrap your legs around my waist, okay?"
The brunette nodded, a mix of anticipation and nervousness swirling in her chest. Effortlessly, Milk rose from the couch, never breaking their kiss as she carried Love in her arms, navigating their way to the bedroom.
And behind closed doors, they found solace in each other's embrace, their love undeniable and irrevocable.
She was an actress with warmth in her heart, thawing the icy exterior of the director's heart.
And she was the director, capturing the heart of an actress whose beauty was incomparable to the warmth of her heart.