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The condo was never supposed to feel like theirs.
When Lilly first offered Belle a place to crash during the chaos of filming ‘I Wanna Be Sup'tar’, it was meant to be practical. Belle's apartment was flooding, Lilly's place on the 22nd floor had an extra room, and their managers thought it would be good for chemistry.
Three months later, practical had gone completely out the window.
It was Sunday in Bangkok, the kind of Sunday that only happens in rainy season. The sky was a low, soft grey, and rain was drumming steadily against the glass balcony doors. The air conditioner was humming, and the whole apartment smelled faintly of Lilly's coffee and Belle's strawberry shampoo.
Lilly was on the living room floor, sitting cross-legged in her soft grey sweatpants and an old black t-shirt. She was in full Win Pawi mode, trying to fold the mountain of laundry that had taken over their weekend. Neat, precise, corners lined up. She was tall enough that even sitting down, she had to reach to get everything.
And Belle was not helping.
Belle was sitting inside the empty laundry basket itself, her knees pulled up to her chest, wearing one of Lilly's oversized white shirts. It hung off one shoulder, the sleeves covering her hands completely. Her hair was still damp from her shower, and she had that sleepy, just-woke-up look that Lilly had learned was dangerously distracting.
"You are literally sitting in the basket we need," Lilly said, but there was no real scolding in her voice.
Belle blinked at her, wide and innocent. "I'm guarding it. So it doesn't run away."
Lilly threw a perfectly folded sock at her. Belle caught it, her hands hidden inside the sleeves that were way too long for her, only her fingertips poking out.
"Win would be so mad at you," Lilly teased, and she knew exactly what she was doing when she used the character name. Belle's whole face scrunched up.
"Win is strict," Belle mumbled, pouting. "Win has too many rules. No music after 10pm. No bare feet on the sofa. No–"
"No stealing my shirts and pretending you're innocent," Lilly finished for her.
Belle looked down at herself, at Lilly's shirt drowning her. "This? This is not stealing. This is borrowing for an indefinite period. Very different."
That made Lilly laugh, that quiet, low laugh she only did when it was just the two of them and no cameras. She abandoned the laundry, just shoved the pile to the side and crawled the short distance over to the basket.
The floor was cold, but the space between them was warm.
"What are you doing?" Belle whispered, as Lilly settled right in front of her, their knees touching.
"Quality checking my shirt," Lilly said seriously. She reached out and gently tugged at the hem where it had slipped off Belle's shoulder, fixing it. Her fingers were warm. "It's looking a little... big. I think the person wearing it is shrinking."
Belle leaned forward, her forehead almost touching Lilly's. Up close, Lilly could see the faint redness on her nose from where she'd rubbed it, and her sleepy eyes, still a little puffy from her nap.
"I'm not shrinking," Belle whispered. "You're just too tall. It's a problem. A serious girlfriend problem."
The word girlfriend hung in the air for a second, soft and unplanned. Neither of them moved to correct it. Off-camera, without scripts, they had gotten comfortable letting words like that sit there.
Lilly's heart did that stupid little thump it always did.
"Yeah? And what would you do about my serious girlfriend problem?" Lilly asked, her voice lower now.
Belle thought about it very hard, her lips pursed. Then, in one sudden movement, she flopped sideways, out of the basket and onto the pile of warm laundry, pulling Lilly with her.
They landed in a heap of soft shirts and socks, Belle half on top of Lilly, laughing into her chest. Lilly automatically wrapped her arms around her, one hand coming up to cradle the back of Belle's damp head.
The rain got louder against the windows.
Belle was warm. She was always warm, like a little heater. Her cold feet, as if on cue, found Lilly's calves under the pile of clothes, and Lilly hissed at the cold but didn't let go.
"Stay?" Belle mumbled into Lilly's t-shirt, her voice muffled and sleepy again.
"We have to finish folding," Lilly said, but she was already pulling the edge of a big blanket-like bedsheet over them like it was a fort.
"We can be the laundry now," Belle said wisely. "We are one with the laundry."
Lilly looked down at her. Belle's eyes were half-closed, her eyelashes casting shadows on her cheeks, her mouth a little open. Completely trusting. Completely at home.
Lilly leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to the top of Belle's head, right where her hair parted. Then to her temple. Then, barely, to the corner of her pouty mouth.
Belle made a happy little sound and nuzzled deeper.
"Okay," Lilly whispered, her thumb stroking Belle's cheek. "We can be laundry for five more minutes. But then you owe me coffee. Made with your little yellow mug."
"And you owe me cuddles," Belle bargained, eyes still closed, smiling now. "For the rest of the rainy season."
"The rest of rainy season is four months, Belle."
"Exactly. So you'd better start now."
So Lilly did. She started, right there on the floor of their too-small, too-messy, not-supposed-to-be-theirs apartment, surrounded by laundry that would never get folded, listening to the Bangkok rain and the soft breathing of the girl in her arms who had stolen all her shirts and her entire heart without even trying.
Five minutes turned into an hour. And neither of them ever got up.