Rhea stirred.
Ling's face hardened instantly, expression snapping shut like steel doors slamming.
Rhea blinked, disoriented. Her brow furrowed as awareness returned too fast. She realized where she was.
Who she was on.
She pulled back sharply.
Ling dropped his arm at the same second, reclaiming space like it had never existed. His jaw was locked, eyes cold, distant, dominance reassembled in less than a heartbeat.
Rhea straightened, pride slamming back into place harder than necessary.
"I wasn't asleep," she said flatly.
Mira smiled. "Of course."
Ling finally looked at Mira.
The look wasn't loud.
It was worse.
A warning.
Mira held it, barely, then tilted her head, softening her tone.
"Didn't want you uncomfortable, Ling."
Ling didn't respond.
Didn't thank her.
Didn't acknowledge her concern.
His eyes flicked back to the window, dismissing both of them.
Rhea adjusted her jewellery deliberately. Earrings first, bracelet second. Armor back on. She didn't look at Ling, but the space where his warmth had been lingered like a bruise.
Rina watched all of it in silence.
Mira returned to her seat, nails biting into her palm.
Ling stayed perfectly still.
But inside, something ugly stirred.
Not guilt.
Not embarrassment.
Anger.
Because Mira had touched something he shouldn't have.
And because for a few stolen minutes, Ling had forgotten how to push Rhea away, and now he was being reminded publicly that he was losing control.
The bus rolled on.
Enemies again.
But the distance felt forced now.
And Mira knew it.
Then the bus doors hissed open.
Heat, wind, and the raw scent of earth rushed in. Not manicured lawns. Not marble. Not glass.
This was not luxury.
Students stepped down one by one, confusion spreading fast as they took in the surroundings. Uneven ground. Tall trees. A distant lake. Nothing resembling a resort.
Ling stepped off last.
He scanned the area once, sharp and assessing, already displeased.
Rhea followed, sunglasses on, expression unreadable.
The dean clapped his hands, grinning like this chaos was intentional.
"Welcome," he announced, "to your accommodation."
Silence.
Then he gestured.
Tents.
Dozens of them.
Large, military grade, pitched in neat but unmistakably primitive rows.
Someone laughed nervously.
"Sir… where's the hotel?"
The dean smiled wider.
"There is no hotel."
A beat.
"This trip," he continued calmly, "is about adaptability. Teamwork. Discomfort."
Groans erupted instantly.
Ling folded his arms. "You're joking."
"No," the dean replied pleasantly. "This is an adventure retreat."
Rhea removed her sunglasses slowly.
"Tents?" she said, voice cool. "You expect us to live in tents?"
"Yes," the dean said. "Four days."
Outrage buzzed through the group.
"And before anyone asks," the dean added, "each tent is shared by two students. Assignments are final."
Ling's jaw tightened.
Rhea's spine went rigid.
The dean handed out printed slips.
Names. Numbers.
Rina scanned hers and burst out laughing.
"Oh this is going to be fun."
Mira read hers silently, then looked up, eyes already searching.
Ling unfolded his slip.
His breath stalled for half a second.
Across the clearing, Rhea froze mid step, eyes locked on the paper in her hand.
They looked up at the same time.
Their gazes met.
Unmistakable.
Unavoidable.
Tent 7.
Shared.
Around them, voices rose. Complaints. Laughter. Disbelief.
But everything else faded.
Ling's expression hardened into something unreadable, control snapping back into place like armor.
Rhea lifted her chin, lips curving into a sharp, defiant smile.
"Looks like," she said coolly, "your adventure just got uncomfortable."
Ling took one slow step toward her.
"Don't flatter yourself," he replied flatly. "I don't get uncomfortable."
Rhea stepped forward.
"I won't share a tent with him," she said clearly, voice carrying. "Change my partner."
Ling scoffed instantly. "Don't worry. I'm not interested either."
The tension snapped like a wire.
The dean raised a brow, amused rather than surprised. "Any specific objections?"
"Personal," Rhea replied coldly.
"Mutual," Ling added.
A few students exchanged looks. Rina grinned like she was watching a drama unfold. Mira stayed very still.
The dean sighed theatrically. "Fine. Miss Noir, you'll be reassigned."
Rhea exhaled once sharp, victorious.
"Zifa," the dean called, checking his list. "You'll share with Rhea."
Zifa nodded, half-confused, half-relieved.
Ling folded his arms. "Reassign me too."
The dean glanced up. "With Mira?"
"No," Ling said instantly.
Mira's face flickered just for a second.
Rina leaned forward. "Oh come on, Dean. I'll take him."
Ling shot her a warning glare.
Rina smiled wider. "What? Family discount."
The dean chuckled. "Very well. Mr Kwong with Miss Rina."
Mira's fingers tightened around her slip.
Assignments finalized.
"Settle in," the dean announced. "Rest tonight. Tomorrow morning, you'll receive your tasks and begin the adventure component."
Students dispersed toward the tents, complaints mixing with laughter.
Rhea walked toward her new tent without looking back.
Ling watched her go just long enough to notice the way the wind caught her hair, the way her jewellery gleamed even here, untamed.
Then he turned away sharply.
Denial reestablished.
Temporary.
Because the night had already settled thick, quiet, full of things that didn't stay buried long.
>>>>>>>>>
The sound cut through forest.
Low.
Heavy.
Mechanical.
Engines.
Students poured out of their tents instinctively, confusion rippling fast as headlights pierced the dark.
One by one, heavy bikes rolled into the clearing massive, black, intimidating machines that didn't belong to comfort or safety.
They belonged to control.
Ling stepped out last, hands in his pockets, eyes already assessing torque, balance, terrain. His expression didn't change.
Rhea emerged from her tent beside Zifa, brows knitting slightly. She didn't like surprises. She hated not knowing the rules.
The bikes came to a halt in a neat line.
Silence followed.
The dean stepped forward, clearly enjoying this.
"Tomorrow," he announced, "you'll be paired on these. Two students per bike."
Murmurs erupted instantly.
"Sir..."
"Those are huge..."
"You expect us to..."
"Ride," the dean finished calmly.
A pause.
"Anyone here who already knows how to ride heavy bikes?"
All the boys stepped forward without hesitation.
Confidence. Ego. Noise.
The dean scanned them, unimpressed.
"Any girls?"
Silence.
Rhea didn't move.
Zifa glanced at her nervously. "Do you…?"
Rhea shook her head once. "No."
Ling swung a leg over the nearest bike with practiced ease, hands finding the grips like muscle memory. One sharp kick the engine roared alive under his control, deep and commanding.
The sound swallowed every doubt whole.
Students went quiet.
Rhea stared.
She hadn't meant to but her eyes tracked every movement: the way Ling's shoulders settled, the way his thighs anchored the bike, the calm dominance in his posture.
Power. Pure and undeniable.
Ling cut the engine and dismounted smoothly.
The dean smiled. "Well. That solves one problem."
Ling stepped back into the shadows like it meant nothing.
Rhea crossed her arms tightly, jaw set irritation flaring for reasons she refused to name.
Because this wasn't supposed to happen.
Ling wasn't supposed to keep proving himself everywhere.
And yet, here he was again the exception, the constant, the force that refused to be ignored.
"Get some rest," the dean added. "Tomorrow starts early."
Just as students began drifting back toward their tents, the dean's voice cut through the clearing again.
"One more thing."
Everyone stopped.
He stood beside the line of bikes, hands clasped behind his back, expression unreadable.
"Tomorrow's schedule is strict," he said. "Wake-up at five sharp. Briefing at five-thirty. The ride begins at six."
Groans rippled through the group.
"And," the dean continued calmly, "your riding and adventure partners will not be assigned by us."
A pause.
"You will choose them yourselves."
That changed everything.
Students exchanged looks instantly alliances forming, calculations happening out loud now.
"Two per bike," the dean reminded them. "One rider, one partner."
Ling's expression didn't change.
Rhea's spine went rigid.
Choice meant intention.
Choice meant responsibility.
The dean nodded once. "Decide tonight. Inform us in the morning. If you haven't chosen, you don't ride."
That last line landed heavy.
He dismissed them with a wave. "Rest well. Tomorrow won't be easy."
The crowd slowly dispersed.
Rina caught up to Ling immediately, grinning. "Well, GOAT LK, looks like you'll be popular."
Ling shot her a flat look. "I ride alone."
"You literally can't," Rina teased. "Rules."
Ling didn't respond his gaze had already drifted, uninvited, across the clearing.
Rhea stood near her tent, arms crossed, talking quietly to Zifa but her attention flicked back once, brief and sharp.
Their eyes met.
Just for a second.
No words.
No expression.
But the question hung between them anyway:
Who would choose whom, when choosing meant admitting something neither of them wanted to face?
Rhea turned away first.
Ling watched her go, jaw tightening.
Choice was dangerous.
Because whatever happened in the morning wouldn't be an accident.
And denial didn't get to pretend this was fate anymore.