Agents in Love [LingOrm]

The light creeping through the curtains gently nudged me awake. I blinked a few times, disoriented for a moment, before the familiar sounds of the house settled around me. A soft murmur from downstairs caught my attention—was that the faint hum of the kitchen? I stretched, the remnants of sleep still clinging to me, and rubbed my eyes. The bed was warm, the sheets tangled around me like a comforting cocoon, but the pull of the noise downstairs was stronger.

I slipped out from under the covers, my feet meeting the cool floor with a soft thud as I made my way toward the stairs. The house was still quiet, the kind of stillness that makes every sound feel amplified. I could hear the clink of a pan and the sizzle of something cooking, and it made my stomach growl in response.

By the time I reached the kitchen, I found Ling standing by the stove, her back to me. The warm, golden light of the morning streamed through the window, casting a soft glow on her as she moved with practiced ease, flipping something in a pan. The familiar scent of breakfast filled the air—eggs, pancakes, something rich and comforting.

I couldn't resist. I approached her quietly, a smile tugging at my lips, and wrapped my arms around her waist from behind. My cheek rested on her shoulder, and I closed my eyes, feeling the warmth of her body seep into me. For a moment, it felt like I could just stay like this, in this peaceful little bubble. My eyelids fluttered as the weight of sleep still clung to me, the soft rhythm of her movements lulling me back to a half-conscious state.

"Good morning," Ling's voice was soft, warm, and surprisingly awake.

I pressed a kiss to her shoulder, the fabric of her shirt soft against my lips. "Good morning," I murmured.

"Did you sleep well?" She asked, her voice carrying a hint of amusement.

"Like an angel," I said, barely keeping my eyes open. I could feel her laugh against my chest, the sound light and genuine.

"Did my sweatshirt help?" she asked, as though it had been a secret she'd been keeping.

I pulled back slightly, raising my eyebrows, trying to wake myself up enough to process her question. "How do you know!?!?" I asked, a mock gasp in my voice.

She turned her head slightly, casting a teasing glance over her shoulder. "I saw you picking it up yesterday," she said, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Did you think it was warm?"

"And it smells like you," I admitted without thinking. The words left me before I could stop them, but they felt right, natural even.

She let out a soft laugh, her shoulders shaking slightly with the movement. "Look who's in love with me," she said playfully, her voice rich with humor.

I snorted, the warmth in my chest blooming. "Not me," I said quickly, my tone teasing. "I'm just saying the sweatshirt smells like you."

"Sure," she replied, her tone matching mine.

I rested my chin on her shoulder again, savoring the peaceful moment between us. "And how did you sleep?" I asked softly, the quiet of the morning making me want to linger in this space a little longer.

"Well, your back trick worked really well," she said, her voice quieter now, more serious.

I smiled to myself, the small victory filling me with warmth. "I'm glad," I said.

"Okay, but now I'm going to hang it on my chest," she added, her voice casual but firm.

I raised an eyebrow at the mention of the bandage. "Okay, that makes sense. It's so it lasts longer."

She glanced over at me, her expression turning a little more serious. "Not that," she said, shaking her head slightly. "But it's to make sure it stays on tight."

I nodded in understanding. "No problem," I said. "Oh, and do you feel like going to the movies today? Or maybe to the mall, in general?"

Ling looked up at me, a glimmer of excitement in her eyes. "Sure, we'll walk around there and go to the movies."

"Sounds perfect," I said, my voice light, content with the easy flow of our conversation.

I watched her as she went back to the stove, carefully flipping pancakes and stirring eggs. The motions were so simple, so familiar, but they had a way of making me feel at ease.

"What are you cooking?" I asked, my voice curious, watching as she expertly moved around the kitchen.

"Pancakes for you," she said with a smile, "and omelettes for me."

"Why omelettes for you?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I love eggs," she said simply, her voice almost nostalgic.

I nodded, my mind racing for a second. "Aha, I eat eggs too."

"I know," she said, smirking. "But I want your breakfast to have some substance, not a seasoned omelette. And I'm going to bullfight your pancakes too."

I laughed at her words, finding her playful tone infectious. "You can steal," I said, making my way to the table, setting out plates and glasses.

As I finished arranging the table, she brought the pancakes over, walking up behind me and wrapping her arms around my waist. I froze for a moment, surprised by the sudden closeness, but then I relaxed into her embrace, feeling her warmth surround me.

She kissed me on the cheek, the soft touch making me smile even more. "Good morning," she said, her lips grazing my skin.

I turned my head just enough to kiss the tip of her nose, the movement easy and natural. "Good morning, patient," I teased.

"Patient?" she asked, her voice light with mock indignation. "How about 'my love'? 'Beautiful'? Or even 'stubborn'?"

I smiled, taking a step back to look at her with a grin. "Okay, good morning, stubborn," I said with a playful wink.

Before I could lean in for a proper kiss, she turned her face away, just enough to make me plant a quick peck on her lips instead.

"Ling!" I gasped, feigning indignation.

"I'm really stubborn," she said, her voice light, filled with amusement.

I rolled my eyes, shaking my head at her teasing. "Yeah, I can tell," I said, my tone full of affection as I reached for the syrup to pour over my pancakes.

The warmth of the kitchen, the soft banter between us, and the familiarity of our routine made me feel lighter than I had in a long time. Ling and I weren't just moving through the motions of our days—we were building something together. Something that felt like it was more than just the passing moments. It felt like a slow, steady bond, one that didn't need to be rushed or forced. It just was, and I was more than content to let it be that way.

Ling sat across from me, still smiling at me with that glint in her eyes. We dug into our breakfast, the conversation flowing between us with ease. I didn't need to speak much—just being with her, in this small, perfect moment, was enough.