Undone by Time | LINGORM

Orm woke to the smell of fried rice, eggs, and coffee.

It was the kind of morning scent that felt like a memory, warm and familiar, like waking up in a home that missed her back.

She blinked slowly, body still heavy with sleep, limbs tangled in a blanket she didn't remember pulling up. The sun had only just begun pouring in through the bedroom curtains, soft and golden, casting lazy shadows across the sheets.

No alarms.

No calls.

No itinerary.

Just quiet.

And the unmistakable sound of someone, Ling, moving around downstairs.

Orm sat up, rubbing her face. Her heart did that stupid jump, again.

They had spent all night tangled in each other, no space between them, just tenderness, as if trying to get back some of that time spent apart.

They had even taken the rest of the week off. 

Fern, with her usual terrifying efficiency, had practically banned them from checking their phones. "We can handle it here for a couple more days," she'd said. "Just rest. Not the kind where you still send emails from the bathtub."

So they listened.

For once.

And now, here she was, waking up in her own bed, with the smell of breakfast drifting up the stairs, and the sound of Lingling humming faintly to herself below.

She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, dragging the blanket with her for a moment before letting it fall. She padded down barefoot, wearing nothing but a loose tee and cotton shorts, her hair a mess, her heart full.

When she reached the kitchen doorway, she stopped.

Just watched for a moment.

Ling stood by the stove in one of Orm's old shirts, oversized, soft from years of washing, the faded logo barely readable. Her hair was loosely tied up, a few strands falling down her neck. She moved with calm efficiency, flipping eggs, plating mango slices, refilling the coffee cups.

It was so stupidly domestic, so them, Orm had to lean against the doorframe for a second just to catch her breath.

God knows how much she had missed that. 

Her.

Ling looked up and smiled when she saw her.

"You're awake," she said gently. "Coffee's fresh."

"You made the full breakfast," Orm said, blinking like she was still dreaming.

"You need to start eating better again. And you like fried rice in the morning."

"I like you in the morning," Orm muttered, wandering in.

Ling's smile only widened. "Sit. Everything's ready."

"You didn't have to, we could have ordered something," Orm said, even as she settled at the table.

"You know I love cooking for you," Ling replied, sliding a plate in front of her.

Orm looked at the food. Looked at Ling. And then reached out, catching her hand before she could turn away.

"Sit here," Orm whispered, indicating the chair right next to her, as if afraid Ling could go anywhere else.

Ling glanced down, and nodded softly.

Two mugs. Two plates. The sunlight spilling across their bare feet.