Rhea shoved her hand away, stepping back with force.
"You're insane," she snapped. "Control freak."
Ling didn't retreat.
"What do you want now?" Rhea demanded, chest rising fast. "You don't care, right? That's what you want me to believe."
Ling's eyes burned.
In one swift motion, she caught Rhea by the waist and pulled her up from the chair and into her arms, decisive. Rhea gasped, hands instinctively gripping Ling's coat.
"I don't know what I want," Ling said through clenched teeth.
Rhea froze.
"But for now," Ling continued, holding her there, "I don't want anyone near you. Understood?"
The words hit harder than the grip.
Rhea's mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
Her thoughts scattered. Anger tangled with something far more dangerous. Her pulse betrayed her, thudding loud in her ears.
"You can't say that," she whispered finally.
Ling didn't let go.
"I just did."
Rhea swallowed, trying to regain control, trying to sound unaffected.
"You don't own me."
Ling exhaled slowly, lips nearly touching hers.
"No," she said. "But you're not going to parade people in front of me like weapons."
Rhea shook her head weakly. "You're making this something it's not."
Ling's grip tightened slightly, then loosened—like she was choosing restraint with effort.
"You sat back down on purpose," Ling said. "You leaned in. You smiled."
Rhea snapped, "You burned me first."
Silence.
Ling stiffened. "With Marley?"
Rhea's voice cracked before she could stop it. "You let her circle you. Ask about you. Pretend she was nothing."
Ling stared at her.
That was it.
The truth.
Rhea realized too late she'd said too much.
Ling released her abruptly, stepping back like she'd been struck.
"So this is jealousy," Ling said slowly. "Yours."
Rhea wrapped her arms around herself, trying to hide the tremor.
"I don't care," she lied again. "You're not allowed to matter."
Ling looked at her for a long moment—really looked.
"You're shaking," Ling said.
Rhea forced a laugh. "You're threatening students in locked offices. I should be."
Ling turned away sharply, dragging a hand through her hair, breathing hard once.
Then she faced her again—controlled, cold, but no less intense.
"This stops," Ling said. "You don't involve anyone else. You don't provoke me like that again."
"And if I do?" Rhea challenged softly.
Ling stepped close one last time, stopping just short of touching her.
"Then I won't be this careful," she said.
Rhea's breath stuttered.
She hated that her knees felt weak.
Rhea straightened, forcing space between them with nothing but posture and will.
"You don't get to tell me what I can do," she said, voice firm despite the tremor she hated, "and what I cannot."
Ling didn't hesitate.
"I can," she replied. "Only I can."
The words landed heavy, final, like a door slamming shut.
Rhea stared at her. "Listen to yourself."
Ling's gaze didn't waver. "I am."
Rhea let out a sharp, disbelieving laugh. "You're crossing lines and pretending it's control."
Ling took one step closer. Close enough to make the air tight.
"And you," Ling said, "are provoking me and pretending it's coincidence."
Rhea shook her head immediately. Too fast.
"You're imagining things."
Ling's mouth hardened. "You were jealous of Marley."
The name hit.
Rhea recoiled like it burned. "Don't."
"So you were," Ling pressed.
"No," Rhea snapped. "Seriously? Don't flatter yourself."
Ling watched her closely. Every micro-movement. The stiffening shoulders. The averted eyes.
"You denied it too quickly," Ling said quietly.
Rhea crossed her arms. "Because it's ridiculous."
"She asked about me," Ling continued, voice controlled but edged. "Indirect questions. Casual interest. You noticed."
Rhea scoffed. "Everyone notices you. You're impossible to ignore."
"And you," Ling said, "left the room irritated. You muttered. You avoided her."
Rhea's jaw clenched. "You're profiling me now?"
"I'm observing," Ling corrected. "You hate when people circle what you consider yours."
Rhea laughed again, brittle. "Yours?"
Ling didn't flinch. "Mine."
Silence stretched.
Rhea looked away, pacing two steps before turning back sharply.
"You don't get to rewrite my emotions," she said. "I wasn't jealous."
Ling tilted her head. "Then why did you burn me back?"
Rhea froze.
"What?" she demanded.
"The boy," Ling said. "You chose him because he was visible. Because he would irritate me. Because you wanted me to feel what you felt."
Rhea swallowed. "You're wrong."
Ling took another step. "Lie again."
"I'm not lying."
Ling's voice dropped. "You are."
Rhea snapped, "You talked to her."
Ling's brows drew together. "I did nothing to Marley."
"You let her think she mattered," Rhea shot back. "You didn't shut her down."
Ling stared at her. "You wanted me to."
Rhea's mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
Ling closed the distance in one smooth motion, stopping inches away.
"You wanted me to draw a line," Ling said. "Publicly. Clearly."
Rhea's eyes flickered. "I don't need that."
"You do," Ling said. "Because uncertainty eats at you."
Rhea shook her head, breathing faster. "Stop pretending you know me."
Ling raised a hand—slow, deliberate—and cupped Rhea's chin again, not as hard as before but just as controlling. She forced Rhea's eyes up.
"I know you lie when you're threatened," Ling said softly. "And you're threatened."
Rhea's hands trembled at her sides. She hated it.
"By what?" Rhea whispered bitterly.
"By being replaceable," Ling answered.
Rhea's eyes flashed with hurt she didn't want seen. "I am not."
Ling said immediately. "That's why you were angry."
Rhea jerked her chin free. "You don't get to decide what I feel."
Ling exhaled slowly. "Then stop acting like someone who wants to be seen."
Rhea's voice cracked despite her effort. "You looked at her."
Ling stiffened. "I look at everyone."
"You listened to her," Rhea pressed. "You didn't shut it down."
Ling stepped back half a pace, jaw tight. "You want exclusivity."
Rhea snapped, "I want honesty."
Ling's eyes narrowed. "Then be honest."
Rhea hesitated.
The pause said everything.
Ling spoke into it. "Say it."
Rhea shook her head. "I won't."
Ling leaned in again, voice low and dangerous. "You were jealous."
Rhea swallowed hard. "No."
Ling held her gaze. "You lied."
Rhea's shoulders sagged for half a second before she caught herself. "Even if I was—" She stopped. Changed course. "I wasn't."
Ling watched the retreat, the denial snapping back into place.
"Fine," Ling said quietly.
She turned away, walking back to her desk, placing her hands on it like she needed the support.
"Then hear this," Ling continued without turning. "You don't use other people to provoke me. You don't test my restraint. And you don't lie to my face."
Rhea hugged herself, voice defensive but softer now. "You don't own my reactions."
Ling finally looked back at her.
"No," she agreed. "But I control what happens when you provoke me."
Rhea met her gaze, defiant and shaken all at once.
"And what happens now?"
Ling held the look for a long moment.
"Now," she said, "you leave. Before I forget every reason I have to be careful."
Rhea hesitated at the door, hand hovering over the handle.
"You're wrong about me," she said without turning.
Ling replied evenly, "You're wrong about how much you want me to be right."
Rhea flinched.
Then she unlocked the door and left—heart racing, lies cracking, jealousy still burning where she refused to name it.