Ling froze when she saw it.
Rhea's lips—already pale—were turning faintly bluish.
"No," Ling whispered, panic slicing straight through her chest. "No, no—don't you dare."
She didn't think. Didn't hesitate. She leaned in and covered Rhea's mouth with her own, sealing their lips together, breathing warm air into her, holding it there. Not gentle. Not romantic. Desperate, clumsy, human.
Ling kept Rhea's lips inside her mouth, warming them, breathing again and again, her hands cradling Rhea's face like she was afraid it might fall apart.
"Breathe," Ling murmured against her. "Come on. You know how stubborn I am. I won't stop."
She pulled back just enough to inhale, then kissed her again, longer this time, slower, forcing warmth where the cold had stolen it. Her tears smeared between them, hot against frozen skin.
Then—barely audible—
"Ling…" Rhea breathed.
Ling jerked back instantly, eyes wild. "Yes. I'm here. Talk."
Rhea's lashes fluttered weakly. Her lips trembled as she forced the words out, voice thin and taunting even now.
"Ling… you haven't changed…" A faint, broken breath. "St-st-still… same idiot… who thinks a kiss… fixes everything…"
For a second, Ling just stared at her.
Then she laughed.
A broken, breathless laugh that shook her whole body as tears kept falling. "Oh, shut up," she said hoarsely. "You're awake enough to insult me. That's progress."
She leaned in again, brushing her lips against Rhea's—short, insistent kisses this time, chasing warmth, chasing consciousness. "Talk more," Ling ordered softly. "If you can mock me, you can answer."
Rhea's mouth curved faintly, the ghost of a smirk. "Bossy… even now…"
"There you are," Ling murmured, smiling through tears. "I missed that mouth."
She kissed Rhea again—forehead, nose, lips—over and over, not letting the cold settle back in. "Stay with me," she said quietly. "Just keep talking. I don't care what you say."
Rhea swallowed, throat working. "You're… still controlling," she whispered. "Still think… you decide… who lives…"
Ling's smile cracked. "Maybe," she admitted, pressing her forehead to Rhea's. "But right now I'm deciding you don't get to die."
Rhea exhaled weakly, eyes half-lidded. "You always do this… when you're scared… pretend it's authority…"
Ling kissed her again, softer now but no less urgent. "And you always pretend you're not terrified when you're losing me."
Rhea let out a weak breath that might've been a laugh. "Arrogant… bastard…"
"Say it louder," Ling encouraged, rubbing warmth back into Rhea's arms. "Come on. Insult me properly."
Rhea's voice trembled. "You think… you're iron… but you're shaking…"
Ling didn't deny it. Her body was shaking now—cold, fear, everything crashing in at once. She wrapped herself tighter around Rhea, sheltering her completely.
"I am shaking," Ling admitted quietly. "Because you're slipping. And I hate losing."
She kissed Rhea again, lingering this time, breathing warmth into her, her thumb brushing Rhea's cheek like muscle memory she never lost. "Answer me," Ling said gently. "You hear me?"
Rhea nodded faintly. "Unfortunately…"
Ling smiled, relief slicing through her chest so sharply it hurt. "Good. Stay unfortunate."
She rested her forehead against Rhea's, eyes closing for a second. "You don't get to call me an idiot and then leave," she whispered. "Finish the argument."
Rhea's breath steadied just a fraction. "You followed me…"
Ling's eyes snapped open. "Yes."
"…after everything…"
"Yes."
Rhea swallowed again. "Still obsessed…"
Ling didn't hesitate. She kissed her once more—slow, firm, unapologetic. "Always were."
Rhea's fingers twitched weakly against Ling's sleeve.
Ling noticed instantly and tightened her hold, possessive even now. "That's it," she murmured. "Hold on. You don't get to disappear while I'm still talking."
She pressed another kiss to Rhea's lips, smiling faintly through tears. "See? Didn't fix everything," Ling whispered. "But it fixed enough."
The freezer was still locked.
The cold was still brutal.
But Rhea was talking.
Breathing.
Taunting.
And Ling—still obsessed, still shaking, still stubborn—
wasn't letting go.
Ling fumbled for her phone with numb fingers, nearly dropping it the first time. The screen lit up harshly in the dim freezer, the glow reflecting off steel walls and Rhea's pale face.
Ling turned slightly, angling her body so Rhea stayed tucked against her chest, one arm locked tight around her like a restraint.
"No signal," Ling muttered, swiping again. One bar flickered—then vanished. She switched networks, forced a restart, hit emergency call anyway.
Nothing.
Her jaw clenched so hard it ached.
"Of course," she said bitterly. "Of course it doesn't work when I actually need it."
She shoved the phone back into her pocket with a sharp movement, like she might break it if she looked at it any longer. Then she looked back down at Rhea immediately, eyes scanning her face with clinical precision she hadn't used in months. Color. Breathing. Responsiveness.
Rhea's eyes were half-open again, unfocused but present. Her breathing was still shallow, but steadier than before.
Ling exhaled shakily. "Okay," she said, voice low and controlled, like she was briefing herself. "You're still here. That's good. That means you're listening."
Rhea made a faint sound, something between a scoff and a breath. "You… narrate now… too?"
Ling huffed softly, a cracked sound. "I always narrated. You just never paid attention."
She adjusted Rhea in her arms, pulling her closer, rubbing her hands firmly over Rhea's back and arms, refusing to let the cold settle again. Her own body was trembling now, uncontrollably, teeth chattering despite her efforts to suppress it.
"You need to keep talking," Ling said firmly. "So I'm going to talk too. You interrupt me when you feel like it."
Rhea's lips twitched weakly. "Still… bossy…"
"There it is," Ling said, relief flickering briefly in her eyes. "Good. Stay mean."
She pressed her forehead to Rhea's temple, breathing slow, steady breaths on purpose. "You know," she said quietly, "this is exactly how you used to fall asleep during arguments. Pretend you're bored so you don't have to admit you're affected."
Rhea swallowed. "You used to… yell louder…"
Ling's mouth curved faintly. "I learned it didn't work on you."
She shifted again, rubbing warmth back into Rhea's hands, lacing their fingers together so Rhea couldn't let go even if she wanted to. Ling's grip was firm, possessive, grounding.
"Phone's dead in here," Ling continued calmly, even as her eyes burned. "Walls are too thick. Door's sealed. So that means we wait."
Rhea frowned weakly. "You hate… waiting…"
"I despise it," Ling agreed immediately. "Which is why you're going to keep me busy by staying conscious."
She leaned in and brushed her lips over Rhea's again—brief, purposeful—then pulled back just enough to speak. "Answer questions."
Rhea breathed out. "…Threatening me now?"
"Yes," Ling said without hesitation. "Emotionally. Stay awake or I'll keep talking."
Rhea let out a weak, breathless laugh that dissolved into a cough. Ling stiffened instantly, rubbing her back harder until it passed.
"Easy," Ling murmured. "Don't waste energy on laughing. Save it for insulting me."
Rhea rested her head more heavily against Ling's shoulder. "You're… cold…"
Ling nodded slightly. "Good. That means you're still noticing things."
She shifted again, wrapping herself around Rhea as much as physically possible, legs curled, arms locked, shielding her completely. "I'm not letting you drift. Not today."
Rhea's voice came softer now. "…You followed me…"
"Yes," Ling said again, voice unwavering.
"…Even when you said… never…"
"I lie when I'm angry," Ling admitted quietly. "You know that."
Rhea was silent for a moment. Ling felt her heart seize—but then Rhea breathed again, a little deeper.