"You start it," Ling replied. "You decide. I only continue."
Rhea stared at her, caught off guard.
Ling raised a brow, pretending to think very hard. "Because clearly, if I initiate anything, you panic. If you initiate, you're safe."
Rhea's lips parted slightly. "You're serious?"
"Dead serious," Ling said, then immediately ruined it by sighing dramatically. "But also deeply concerned."
"Concerned about what?" Rhea asked, suspicious.
Ling leaned her head back against the headboard like someone facing a tragic fate. "What if you never let me get close again?"
Rhea rolled her eyes. "That's not—"
"I'll be ancient," Ling continued, uninterrupted. "Wrinkled. Weak. No strength left."
She flexed her arm half-heartedly. "I won't even have enough energy to do anything."
Rhea burst out laughing despite herself. "You're unbelievable."
Ling looked down at her with fake despair. "Imagine it. Me. Waiting patiently for permission. Years pass. Decades. I'll be like—" she lowered her voice theatrically, "'Rhea, my back hurts, but may I hold your hand?'"
Rhea laughed harder, the sound loosening something deep in her chest. "You're so dramatic."
"I'm realistic," Ling corrected. "This is my future now."
Rhea shook her head, still smiling, then leaned back into Ling again more comfortably this time. "You'll survive."
Ling smirked. "Barely."
But when Rhea shifted slightly, pressing back just a bit more deliberate, unafraid Ling went quiet.
She didn't tease then.
She just rested her chin lightly on Rhea's shoulder, her voice softer. "Whenever you're ready," she said. "However you're ready."
Rhea nodded, still smiling faintly. "I like this rule."
Ling smiled too not sharp, not possessive.
Patient.
For the first time, intimacy wasn't a test or a trigger.
It was a conversation they were learning how to speak together.
Ling tilted her head slightly, eyes narrowing in mock seriousness as if a terrible thought had just occurred to her.
"But," she said slowly, "what if you never let me?"
Rhea frowned. "Never let you what?"
Ling sighed, dramatic to the core. "What if, oh no! I don't want to die a virgin.."
There was a beat of stunned silence.
Then Rhea laughed a real laugh, loud and sudden, the kind that surprised even herself. She turned in Ling's arms, eyes bright for the first time in hours.
"I won't let you die like that," Rhea said between laughs. "Relax."
Ling's lips curved immediately. She leaned forward, brushing their noses together lightly, deliberately gentle.
"And I won't let you die a virgin either," Ling murmured.
Rhea's laugh broke again, softer this time, her cheeks flushing. "You're impossible."
They laughed together, the tension dissolving into warmth, into something easy and human instead of fragile and afraid.
"I'm serious," Rhea added, still smiling. "I won't even make you wait till we're old."
Ling exhaled in exaggerated relief, leaning her head back against the headboard. "Thank God."
She glanced down at Rhea again, eyes playful. "My future wife is planning in years, not decades."
Rhea rolled her eyes but didn't hide her smile. "Stop calling me your future wife."
Ling raised a brow. "You didn't deny it."
Rhea opened her mouth to argue, then paused and instead shook her head, laughing quietly. "You're too much."
Ling tightened her arms just slightly around Rhea's waist not claiming, just holding. "You're enough," she replied softly, the joke fading into something sincere.
Rhea relaxed into her again, head resting against Ling's chest. Her body no longer felt like it was bracing for loss. The fear was still there, buried deep but it wasn't in control right now.
Ling rested her chin lightly against Rhea's hair, breathing steady. "See?" she said quietly. "We can joke. We can laugh. And we can still go slow."
Rhea nodded. "I know."
"So do I," Ling replied. "Alive. Laughing. Not running."
Rhea stayed quiet for a moment, fingers tracing absent lines on the blanket as if she was gathering courage again — not the frantic kind from before, but something steadier.
"You can try," she said finally, voice low but clear.
Ling looked down at her. "Try what?"
Rhea lifted her head just enough to meet Ling's eyes. "You don't have to stay completely away. I told you — I'm comfortable with you." She hesitated, then continued, choosing her words carefully. "So… slowly. You can make me more comfortable. Like today."
Ling didn't interrupt.
"We can bathe together," Rhea said, a little faster now, afraid she might lose the nerve. "But not removing clothes. Just being there. Together."
She watched Ling closely after saying it, bracing for pressure, teasing, or disappointment.
Instead, Ling nodded.
"That's good," Ling said simply.
The relief on Rhea's face was immediate, almost painful in how visible it was.
Ling shifted slightly so Rhea could see her expression fully calm, grounded, sincere. "That's more than good. That's you choosing, not forcing yourself."
Rhea let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. "You're really okay with that?"
Ling gave a faint smile. "I told you. You start. I follow."
She brushed her thumb lightly over the back of Rhea's hand slow, asking. When Rhea didn't pull away, Ling continued just enough to be felt.
"We're not fixing everything in one night," Ling said. "We're building something you don't have to run from."
Rhea nodded. "I don't want to feel scared of my own choices anymore."
"You won't," Ling replied. "Not with me standing right there."
Rhea leaned back against her again, more relaxed now, the earlier tension replaced by something cautious but hopeful.
"Thank you," Rhea murmured.
"For trusting me," Ling answered. "And for not disappearing into fear."
They didn't rush after that. No sudden movements. No expectations layered onto the moment.
Just an agreement quiet, mutual, intentional.
Slow didn't feel like loss anymore.
It felt like safety they were choosing together.
Rhea suddenly pulled herself up with a burst of nervous energy, like staying still too long would make her overthink again.
"Let's go," she said quickly, forcing confidence into her voice.
Ling looked at her for a second, then nodded. "Okay."
They walked to the bathroom together not rushed, not hesitant either. The light clicked on. The space felt smaller somehow, louder with the echo of running water when Rhea turned the shower on.
Steam slowly began to rise.
They stood there for a moment, both fully clothed, the sound of water filling the silence between them.
Rhea stepped in first.
Ling followed.
The water hit their clothes almost immediately, soaking fabric, clinging, heavy and warm. Rhea sucked in a breath at the sensation but didn't pull away. She stayed.
Ling stayed too.
For a few seconds, neither of them spoke.
Then Rhea turned suddenly, heart pounding, and before Ling could overthink it, she leaned in and kissed her.
It was brief. Soft. Certain.
Ling froze.
Completely.
Her body went stiff, not from rejection from fear of doing the wrong thing.
Rhea pulled back just enough to look at her, brows knitting together. "Don't be a saint," she said quietly, trying to sound teasing instead of vulnerable. "I'm kissing you. At least respond."
Ling blinked, startled out of her careful restraint.
"You started," Ling said, half-teasing, half-checking.
Rhea nodded. "I did."
That was all Ling needed.
She leaned in just enough to return the kiss gentle, controlled. The water soaked through their clothes completely now, dripping from sleeves, from hair, from everything that made this moment feel real and grounding instead of scary.
Rhea relaxed into it.
They broke apart, both breathing a little uneven, from nerves and adrenaline and relief.
"Well," Ling said lightly, glancing down at their soaked clothes, "this is definitely not how I imagined my dramatic bath fantasy."
Rhea snorted despite herself. "You're impossible."
Ling smirked. "You're the one who kissed first."
Rhea rolled her eyes, water running down her face, but her shoulders were no longer tense. "You looked like you'd turn into a statue if I didn't."
"I was being respectful," Ling defended, then added, "Over-respectful. Apparently."
Rhea laughed soft, genuine and leaned her forehead briefly against Ling's shoulder. "This is okay," she said. "I'm okay."
Ling nodded, staying exactly where she was, not closing the distance further unless Rhea did first. "Then we stay here," she said. "Nothing more. Nothing less."
The water kept running, steady and loud, steam clinging to the glass, to the air, to their skin.
Ling tilted her head, eyes glinting with mischief, then deliberately reached down and pulled her shirt over her head.
Rhea froze.
Ling tossed the wet shirt aside like it meant nothing.
"You can't remove," Ling said calmly, almost smug, "but I can."
Rhea stared at her, scandalized and flustered in equal measure. "Ling—"
Ling cut her off by flexing her arms exaggeratedly, rolling her shoulders like she was on a basketball court instead of under a shower.
"Look," she said, grinning. "National treasure. Muscles. Discipline. Years of suffering."