Chapter Text
Part 1 - The First Time Noticing
The Interact Club met every Wednesday after school, in the Art Block where the corridor always smelled like paint and sun-warmed wood. It was the kind of place where people pinned posters crookedly and left brushes soaking in old coffee cups. It felt like a hidden world-tucked away from classrooms and announcements and the endless noise of lunch break.
That was where Orm saw her.
Lingling Sirilak Kwong.
Matthayom 5. Slightly taller. Sharper jawline. She rarely talked. She always tied her hair properly, no flyaways, no fuss. When she listened, she tilted her head just a little, like every word mattered. The seniors said she was "serious." Some said "cold." But Orm watched long enough to see it wasn't that at all-Lingling was just shy. She didn't speak unless she had something real to say.
The first day, Orm only glanced.
The second day, she stared.
The third day, she found herself waiting for Wednesday.
---
At recess, Orm began to notice her more-like her eyes were trained to find Lingling's silhouette in a crowd.
By the hallway.
At the badminton court.
Sitting under the tree near the canteen, eating slowly, carefully, as if someone might take her lunch away.
Why am I looking? Orm didn't know.
Her friends, meanwhile, talked about boys constantly.
"Did you see P'Bank from Matayom 6? He's soooo handsome."
"I think I like Ice from our math group."
"Orm, who do you like?"
Orm just shrugged.
She didn't have an answer.
Until she almost said a name that surprised her own mouth.
Ling-
No. No, no.
She clamped her chopsticks too tight.
No one talked about girls like that.
So she kept the name inside.
---
Part 2 - The Little Moments
The first time Lingling spoke to Orm, it was by accident.
They were helping to carry old donation boxes to the store room. Orm lifted one that was definitely too heavy for her, and her arms trembled embarrassingly.
Lingling quietly stepped closer.
"You'll drop it," she said, not unkindly-just stating a truth.
Orm blinked.
She had never heard Lingling's voice this close. It was soft. Softer than she imagined.
"I-I can carry," Orm said, immediately regretting how squeaky she sounded.
Lingling didn't argue. She just took the box from Orm's hands, effortlessly. Years of sports training-Orm recognized it now. Lingling moved with calm strength.
"You should take the smaller one," Lingling suggested, still not looking directly at her.
Orm wanted to say thank you.
She also wanted to run away.
Both feelings crashed and tangled in her chest.
"Okay," Orm managed.
They walked.
Side by side.
Not speaking.
But Orm felt like something huge was happening.
---
Part 3 - Confusion Has a Smile
That night, Orm lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling.
She tried to think of boys like her friends did.
Tried to imagine feeling butterflies when they laughed or spoke.
Nothing.
Then her mind replayed:
Lingling's calm voice.
Lingling's hands taking the box.
Lingling's eyes that never hurried.
Suddenly Orm felt her face get hot.
No way.
That wasn't-
That couldn't be-
But the more she tried to push the thought away, the clearer it became.
She didn't admire Lingling.
She liked her.
She liked her.
And she didn't know what to do with that truth.
---
Part 4 - Trying to Stand Closer
The next club meeting, Orm arrived early.
Five minutes early.
Okay, ten.
She sat in her usual seat - the one behind the supply cabinet - pretending to scroll on her phone. Her heart beat louder than footsteps in the hallway.
What am I doing? Why am I here so early? Does this make me look weird?
She almost stood up and left.
But then Lingling walked in.
Not surrounded by friends.
Not talking.
Just quiet as always, carrying a folder against her chest, hair slightly out of place from the afternoon humidity.
And just like that, Orm forgot how to breathe.
Lingling noticed her.
Or maybe she just... saw her. But for Orm, that was enough to call it noticing.
"You're early," Lingling said.
Not a tease.
Just an observation.
Still, Orm felt her ears heat up.
"Uh-yeah," Orm replied. "I... had free period."
She didn't.
She definitely had sprinted here as soon as the bell rang.
Lingling nodded slowly.
She didn't question it.
Orm was grateful.
---
They ended up sitting at the same table for the poster-making task. A senior pushed stacks of colored paper toward them and said something about a charity fair, but Orm barely heard anything past her own heartbeat.
Lingling reached for the glue.
Orm reached for it at the same time.
Their fingers touched.
Not a dramatic, movie touch - just a tiny, brief press of skin against skin.
But to Orm, it felt like lightning in her fingertips.
She snatched her hand back so fast she nearly knocked over a pair of scissors.
"S-sorry!"
Lingling blinked.
Once.
Then again, slower.
"It's okay," she said. And this time, she looked at Orm - properly.
Orm felt the world soften around the edges.
---
For the first time, Orm found words instead of silence.
"So... you draw a lot?" she asked. It came out too quick, too eager.
Lingling's hand paused mid-cut.
"A bit," she said. "Mostly after school. When I have time."
"What do you draw?"
"People," Lingling replied. Then after a moment, "Faces, mostly."
Orm couldn't help it.
The thought slipped out.
"Must be nice... to look at someone and really see them."
Lingling's scissors stopped.
Not in discomfort - in surprise.
She didn't smile fully.
But the corner of her mouth lifted just slightly-like a soft sunrise that only someone watching closely would catch.
"Yes," Lingling said. "It is."
The air between them shifted... warm and fragile as morning light.