Chapter Text
Chapter One: The Withdrawal
Khem didn’t fight anymore.
No more quietly preparing warm towels for Rin before she finished her shower.
No more waiting in bed with soft, patient eyes and a hopeful smile.
No more midnight whispers offering love in small, tender doses that Rin always batted away.
She stopped.
Not coldly. Not in resentment.
She simply… adjusted.
Rin had told her—“Stop trying so hard. I don’t need all that.”
So Khem finally listened. She smiled gently, the way someone does when they’ve heard a final verdict, and said, “Okay.”
From that day on, she became what Rin asked for.
Polite. Distant. Respectful.
She no longer lingered in the kitchen with tea waiting for Rin to come home.
She no longer slipped her hand in Rin’s when they passed in the hallway.
She no longer looked at her like she hung the moon.
She just… stopped.
And Rin, for a while, felt relief.
She had space. She had quiet. She had exactly what she asked for.
Until one evening, Rin came home after a hard day.
Her shoulders were heavy, and the world had been unkind.
She opened the door, half-expecting Khem’s soft voice to greet her:
“Tough day? Want to sit down? I’ll make something warm.”
But Khem just looked up from her book.
Smiled.
“Welcome home.”
Then looked back down.
No warmth. No questions. No fuss.
Rin blinked.
“…Where’s dinner?” she asked without thinking.
Khem tilted her head. “I thought you’d prefer to do your own tonight. I didn’t want to overstep.”
Overstep.
Like love was an intrusion.
Rin’s stomach turned.
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Part Two: The Realization
Days passed like that.
Khem wasn’t angry.
She was serene. Composed.
She laughed with the neighbours, spent her weekends tending the garden, and slept soundly—alone.
There were no fights. No guilt-tripping.
Just peace.
And Rin hated it.
She missed the little things—the way Khem would wordlessly tuck a blanket around her, or trace her fingers on Rin’s back as they lay side by side, hoping Rin would let her in.
She missed being loved despite her fear of love.
Rin began hovering near Khem, hoping for scraps of the affection she used to drown in.
One night, she tried to rekindle something—“I had a dream last night. About us.”
Khem looked up, expression soft but unreadable. “That’s nice.”
She didn’t ask more.
Didn’t touch her.
Didn’t lean in.
Rin’s chest ached.
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Part Three: The Dread Sets In
She watched Khem fold laundry with steady hands.
Watch dramas with her knees tucked up and a cup of tea Rin didn’t make for her.
She watched her in bed, facing away, breathing even and content.
Rin stared at the ceiling.
“What if I… changed my mind?” she asked quietly.
Silence.
Khem turned over slightly, blinking in the dark.
“You don’t need to say that just because you’re lonely tonight, Rin,” she said softly. “You taught me to let go of something that hurt you.”
Rin swallowed.
“But what if I don’t want you to let go?”
Khem stared at her for a long moment.
And then whispered something Rin didn’t expect:
“…Then you’ll have to prove you mean it. The way I used to.”
Rin’s breath hitched.
Because now…
she was the one chasing.
And Khem no longer stood still waiting to be caught.
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