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Another fanmeet. Another day they can spend together, wandering around the mall before they eventually get called to go back to the venue.
When it finally started, they sang their latest series’ OST, “My Only Champion” full of smiles on their faces as they greeted their fans, meeting them again for the second time.
The arena was filled with a thousand screaming fans, with everyone squealing at every touch of their hands, every flirtatious words they exchange with each other and every time their eyes met.
Then the game session came.
”Okay, for our next lucky winner!” the MC yelled through the mic. “You get to whisper a secret wish to Milk and she has to try and grant it!”
Milk stood at the center of the stage, looking effortlessly cool and sexy at the same time.
She offered the camera a wink, causing another wave of shrieks. When the fan, a shy girl practically trembling with excitement approached, Milk leaned in low so their shoulders almost touched.
"What’s your wish?" Milk asked, her voice leaning into that formal and soft tone she only used with fans.
The fan leaned in, whispering into Milk’s ear.
Milk’s eyes widened playfully, and she let out a genuine laugh. She lingered in the fan's space, nodding intently, before offering a warm, slow high-five that turned into a gentle squeeze of the fan's hand.
Standing just three feet away, Love felt a certain… prickle at the back of her neck.
"P'Milk is going to give away all our secrets at this rate!" Love joked into her microphone, her voice high and cheerful.
She stepped forward, intending to nudge Milk’s shoulder and pull the attention back to her. "Hey, Phi, if you're taking requests, I have a long list of—"
But Milk didn't turn towards her. She was still focused on the fan, laughing at something the girl had stuttered out in response to the high-five.
The moment Love’s joke fell flat into the empty space between them, the MC moved on to the next segment, and the spotlight shifted.
Love’s smile didn’t falter though. She was a professional, after all. But the warmth left her eyes instantly.
She tucked a stray hair behind her ear and stepped back, her posture turning rigid.
Milk finally glanced toward her partner. She caught the way Love was holding her microphone, knuckles slightly white, eyes fixed on the floor.
Oh no, Milk thought, a panic hitting her right in the chest.
The talkative Love had gone completely silent. And in their five years together, Milk knew that silence was the loudest warning sign of all.
…
The hotel room was too quiet.
For some unknown reason, Milk couldn’t get herself to sleep.
She had already changed into a simple white pajama top and grey sweatpants, but she just couldn't settle down.
She kept replaying the fanmeet in her head, the way Love’s shoulder stiffened, the way she hasn’t looked at Milk once during the van ride back.
Milk sighed, rubbing the back of her neck.
She was just reaching for her phone to send a risky “Are you awake?” text when the sound reached her.
Knock. Knock-knock.
Milk’s heart did a nervous flip.
It was soft, and a little hesitant. But she immediately knew who it was.
She quickly stood up and crossed the room in three long skips and swung the door open.
There stood Love.
She looked so small, looking down while holding a pillow in one of her arms.
She was dressed in oversized navy silk pajamas and her hair was messy from tossing and turning.
"Nong Love?" Milk asked gently.
Love didn’t say a word. She didn’t even look Milk in the eye.
She simply ducked under Milk’s arm, marched into the room, and headed straight for the king-sized bed.
With a huff, she dove face-first onto the mattress, spreading her arms and legs out until she occupied almost every square inch of the blankets.
Milk stood at the foot of the bed, her arms crossing over her chest.
She tried to channel her cool P'Milk energy, the one that usually kept things under control, but it was hard to look stern when Love was currently buried in her pillows like a stubborn cat.
"Nong Love?" Milk asked, her voice softening. "You can't just enter my room without an explanation."
Love turned her head to the side, her cheek pressed against the white linens.
She pouted, her lower lip sticking out. "I couldn't sleep," Love muttered. "And your room is closer to the elevator."
"Why would you need to go to the elevator?" Milk let out a small, breathless laugh.
But Love lying on her bed like that made her gay panic return in the form of a warm flush rising up her neck. "Also, you’re taking up the whole bed, Nong. Where am I supposed to sleep now?"
Love didn’t reply, she just adjusted her starfish position to take up even more space.
The standoff lasted only a few seconds before Love’s bravado eventually crumbled.
She sat up slowly.
Instead of arguing, she reached out and hooked her arms around Milk’s waist, pulling the taller girl forward until Milk was standing right between her knees.
Milk’s breath hitched.
She looked down at the top of Love’s head, feeling the heat of the younger girl’s forehead pressing against her stomach.
"What happened, Nong Love?" Milk asked, her voice dropping to a tender whisper. "Why can't you sleep? Hmm?"
"Just a bad dream," Love muttered into Milk’s shirt.
Her grip tightened, her small hands bunching the fabric of Milk’s top.
Milk couldn't help it, her hand moved on its own, her fingers sinking into Love’s soft hair, brushing the tangles away with soothing strokes. "It’s alright," she murmured. "I’m here. It was just a dream."
Love pulled back just enough to look up, her chin resting on Milk’s tummy.
Her eyes were wide and pleading like a wet puppy.
"P’Milk..." Love said, her voice trembling slightly. "Can I sleep here tonight? With you?"
Milk pretended to think about it.
She looked toward the ceiling, chewing on the inside of her cheek, trying to maintain some semblance of a boundary.
But the silence lasted a second too long.
Love’s lip trembled, and her gaze became so heartbreakingly hopeful that Milk’s resolve vanished.
Milk smiled and finally nodded. "Okay. You can sleep here."
Love’s face lit up for a split second before she buried it back into Milk’s stomach, nuzzling on the surface.
However, the sweetness was short-lived.
As they both climbed under the heavy duvet, the atmosphere immediately shifted and Love suddenly remembered why she was here in the first place.
As soon as Love’s head hit the pillow, she whipped around, turning her back to Milk and pulling the covers up to her ears.
Milk lay there in the dark, staring at the back of Love’s head.
The tension in the small space between them was so thick it felt like there was a third person in the bed.
A bad dream? Milk thought, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. Right.
The silence in the room was deafening.
Milk lay there for long, just staring at the ceiling and occasionally turning her head to the side, watching the rise and fall of Love’s shoulders.
She knew that posture, it was the "I’m fine" posture that actually meant nothing is fine.
Milk shifted from her position, the mattress creaking under her weight as she moved closer.
She reached out, hesitantly sliding her arm over Love’s waist and pulling her back against her chest.
She was careful, though, she kept her chin tucked just on the back Love’s head, avoiding the sensitive curve of her neck.
After five years of fanservice, they both knew that touching the neck was a trigger for feelings they weren't supposed to have.
She breathed in, and the scent of Love’s peach-blossom shampoo filled her senses.
"Nong Love," Milk whispered.
Love didn't answer, but she reached down and gripped Milk’s hand, the one resting on her stomach, squeezing it tight.
"Is something wrong? Was it really just a bad dream?"
Love still didn't answer.
Slowly, she turned within the circle of Milk's arms, flipping over until they were chest to chest.
Her hand moved to Milk's shoulder, clutching the fabric of the pajama shirt. When Milk looked down, she saw it, Love’s eyes were glassy, a thin streak of tears making them shimmer.
Milk’s heart cracked.
She immediately reached up, her thumb gently wiping away a stray tear before it could fall. "What's wrong, Nong?"
Love’s lip trembled. She looked away. "Don't make me say it, P'Milk."
Milk’s suspicion was finally clarified.
The stiffness at the fanmeet, the way Love retreated into herself the whole night.
A knowing smile tugged at the corners of Milk's lips out of overwhelming affection.
"You're pouting because of the game today, aren't you?" Milk asked softly.
At the sound of the truth, Love’s defenses finally collapsed.
She let out a shaky breath that was half-sob, half-sigh, and buried her face deep into the crook of Milk’s shoulder.
The fabric of Milk’s shirt grew damp as Love sniffled, her entire body relaxing into the hold she’d been pretending she didn't want.
Milk wrapped both arms around her now, hugging her snugly, her habit of her hand brushing through Love's hair manifesting again.
She held her, letting the younger girl be small and vulnerable in the one place she knew she was always allowed to be.
“I didn’t mean to ignore you,” Milk whispered, her chin resting on the top of Love’s head. “I just got caught up in the moment. I’m sorry, Nong.”
Love pulled back an inch, her nose pink and her eyes still wet.
She looked up at Milk, still pouting, their eyes finally meeting. “It wasn't just that, P’Milk. You looked like you were having so much fun. I didn’t want to keep your attention to myself and keep you from having fun.”
“But my attention is always on you,” Milk countered gently, her thumb tracing the line of Love’s jaw. “Even when I’m looking at someone else, I’m thinking about how much I’d rather be looking at you.”
Love didn’t look away this time.
Then… Milk watched as Love’s eyes wandered downward, focusing on Milk’s lips instead.
Love leaned in.
It was slow.
Excruciatingly slow.
So slow that it gave Milk every chance to pull away.
But Milk stayed frozen, her breath hitching as Love kept getting closer.
When their lips finally touched, it was soft, hesitant, it even tasted a bit salty from her tears.
Love pushed forward, deepening the kiss, her hand sliding from Milk’s shoulder to the back of her neck.
It was Love’s way of saying you belong to me.
Milk responded in her own way, tightening the grip on the small girl’s waist.
When Love finally pulled back, both of them were breathless.
Love immediately ducked her head, burying her face against Milk’s chest as if she could hide from reality.
Milk didn't say anything. She couldn't.
Instead, she just tightened her grip, pulling Love so close there wasn't even room for a heartbeat between them.
Love pressed her ear against Milk's chest, hearing the thumping of Milk’s heart.
She couldn't tell if it was Milk’s heart or her own. Perhaps, for the first time, they were finally in sync.
None of them knew what relationship they had at that moment, or if it will even change anything between them.
All they knew is that they belong to each other.
"Safe?" Milk whispered.
Love gave a tiny, contented nod against her chest. "Safe."
Slowly, the exhaustion of the day finally took over them both.