Faking It, Lovin' It || Lingorm

Chapter 9: Lingling's Vulnerability

Lingling sat at her desk, staring blankly at the spreadsheet on her computer screen. Normally, the steady rhythm of work would calm her, help her focus, and give her control over her otherwise chaotic thoughts. But today, her mind kept wandering back to Orm—their conversation at the bar, the kiss, the way they had opened up to each other in a way that felt raw and unfiltered.

It terrified her.

She had always prided herself on being strong, independent, and in control of her emotions. Lingling wasn't the type to let people in easily, and yet, here she was, getting drawn further into Orm's world—into her unpredictability, her playfulness, her vulnerability. For someone like Lingling, who kept her emotions carefully tucked away behind a wall of professionalism and routine, this was unfamiliar territory.

It was late in the evening when Lingling finally decided to leave work. She'd been pushing herself hard all day, trying to drown out her thoughts with reports and emails, but it hadn't worked. The drive home felt long, the silence of her car too loud as her mind kept circling back to the same thoughts: What are we? Where is this going?

By the time she got home, she was exhausted, both mentally and emotionally. She poured herself a glass of wine, hoping it would help her unwind, but even as she sat on her couch, her thoughts wouldn't stop. Her phone buzzed beside her. Orm's name lit up the screen with a simple text:

"Hey, wanna hang out? I'll bring snacks."

Lingling stared at the message. Normally, she would have hesitated, made an excuse, or pushed it off. But tonight, after everything, she felt a tug to say yes. She typed back quickly:

"Sure. See you soon."

Within twenty minutes, Orm was at her door, carrying a bag full of chips, drinks, and some takeout. Her bright smile was infectious as she stepped inside. "Thought we could do a movie night. No heavy stuff, just something fun."

Lingling managed a small smile, appreciating the casualness. "Sounds perfect."

They settled in on the couch, the food spread out between them, and as the movie played, Lingling found herself relaxing, laughing at Orm's commentary and letting herself enjoy the moment. But beneath the surface, she could still feel that familiar tension—anxiety about opening up, about what she had shared with Orm at the bar, and about where this was all heading.

After the movie ended, there was a lull in the conversation. Orm leaned back on the couch, glancing over at Lingling. "You've been quiet tonight. Everything okay?"

Lingling hesitated. She could feel the weight of Orm's question, and for the first time in a long time, she didn't want to brush it off. Orm had been vulnerable with her, and maybe—just maybe—it was time for Lingling to do the same.

"I've been thinking a lot," Lingling started, her voice quieter than she intended. "About us. About where this is going. It's... it's hard for me to let go sometimes."

Orm frowned softly, shifting in her seat to face Lingling fully. "What do you mean?"

Lingling took a deep breath, setting her glass of wine on the coffee table. "I've spent my whole life focused on my career. It's what I'm good at, it's what I can control. I've always pushed relationships aside because I've been afraid they'll distract me, or worse, that I'll fail at them." She paused, her gaze dropping to her lap. "And failure isn't something I handle well."

Orm was quiet, giving Lingling the space to continue, which she appreciated. "This thing between us... it's different. I didn't expect it to be, but it is. And it scares me because I don't know how to handle it. I'm not used to feeling like this."

Orm nodded slowly, her eyes filled with understanding. "You're scared it'll mess things up, huh?"

Lingling nodded. "Exactly. I'm scared of getting too close, of losing control. I've never been good at being vulnerable. I don't know how to do this."

Orm shifted closer, her expression soft. "Hey, I get it. I'm not exactly an expert on relationships either, remember? But we don't have to figure it all out right now. We don't have to have all the answers."

Lingling looked up, meeting Orm's gaze. There was something so comforting in the way Orm looked at her, like she wasn't expecting Lingling to be perfect or have it all together. It was freeing in a way, and yet, it made Lingling's heart ache.

"I don't want to mess this up," Lingling admitted quietly. "I don't want to mess us up."

Orm reached out, gently taking Lingling's hand in hers. "You won't. We won't. We're both figuring it out as we go. But that's the point, right? We're doing it together."

Lingling squeezed Orm's hand, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. It wasn't easy for her to admit her fears, but being here with Orm—who was just as flawed and uncertain—made it a little less terrifying.

For the first time in a long time, Lingling felt a sense of relief. She didn't have to have all the answers, and she didn't have to be perfect. Maybe it was okay to be vulnerable, to let herself be a little messy, a little unsure.

And maybe, just maybe, Orm was the person she could do that with.

As they sat there, hand in hand, the weight on Lingling's chest began to lift. The future was still uncertain, and her fears hadn't completely vanished, but tonight, she felt something she hadn't felt in a long time—hope.