Rina stopped dead.
Her eyes widened at the scene: Ling kneeling, hands and lips at Rhea's waist, Rhea sitting rigid, shirt unbuttoned, blood on skin. The intimacy of it hit before the logic did.
"What the..." Rina started.
Mira stood just behind her.
And Mira understood everything in one second.
Her eyes went straight to Ling's face. Then to Rhea. Then to Ling's hands.
Her lips parted. No sound came out at first.
Then her eyes filled.
Not dramatic tears. Quiet ones. The kind that come when something finally breaks.
Ling stood up immediately, like he'd been caught doing something criminal. "Mira... this isn't..."
"I hate you," Mira said.
The words were soft.
That made them worse.
Ling froze.
Mira took a step back, shaking her head, tears sliding freely now. "I watched you almost die and I prayed. I stayed. I defended you. And this is what you do?"
"Mira," Ling said sharply, control cracking at last. "Stop."
Mira laughed once, broken. "Stop what? Loving you? Trusting you?"
She looked at Rhea then, eyes sharp despite the tears. "Congratulations. You win."
Rhea opened her mouth. "I didn't..."
Mira didn't wait.
She turned and walked out of the tent, shoulders shaking.
Rina stood there, stunned, eyes darting between them. "Ling... what the hell is going on?"
Ling didn't answer.
His fists were clenched so tight his nails bit into his palms. His chest felt tight, wrong, like something had slipped out of place and he didn't know how to force it back.
Rhea pulled her shirt closed slowly, fingers steady despite the chaos inside her.
She met Ling's eyes.
Cold. Controlled. Hurt.
"You shouldn't have touched me," Rhea said quietly.
Ling flinched.
Not visibly.
Internally.
"Handle this," Rhea continued, voice flat again, armor snapping back into place. "I'll handle the rest."
She stood, brushing past Ling without another word.
Ling stayed where he was.
Rina looked at her cousin, really looked at him, and for once, didn't tease.
"You're in trouble," Rina said softly.
Ling stared at the tent wall, jaw locked, eyes dark.
He already knew.
Because for the first time in his life, Ling Kwong had crossed a line he couldn't dominate, threaten, or undo.
And it had cost him something he hadn't admitted he wanted.
>>>>>>>>
Mira didn't go far.
She walked until the noise of the camp thinned, until the laughter and engines blurred into something distant and unreal. Then she stopped behind a line of trees, where no one could see her, and finally let herself sink down onto the damp ground.
Her breath broke first.
Then the tears came.
She pressed her palm hard against her mouth, as if that could keep the sound inside her chest. Her shoulders shook despite her effort to stay quiet.
Before Rhea.
That was all she could think.
Before Rhea arrived and everything started slipping through her fingers.
She remembered Ling when they were younger, Ling defending her without being asked, standing beside her like it was instinct. Ling letting her sit too close, letting her believe that patience would be rewarded, that one day Ling would look at her the way he looked at everyone else, chosen, permanent.
Mira squeezed her eyes shut.
"I was always there," she whispered, voice breaking. "I waited."
She remembered the hospital corridors after Ling's injuries, the late nights, the way she learned Ling's silences better than anyone. How she told herself that loyalty mattered more than confession.
And now,
One girl arrived.
And Ling Kwong, who never touched, never softened, never crossed lines, was kneeling, kissing someone else.
Protecting.
Choosing.
Mira wiped her cheeks angrily, furious at herself for crying, for still hoping. "You didn't even hesitate," she murmured. "Not even once."
The image replayed cruelly: Ling's hands at Rhea's waist, lips at navel. The focus. The urgency. The lack of denial.
That wasn't attraction.
That was instinct.
Mira hugged her knees, nails digging into her palms.
"I hate you," she whispered again, not loudly, not to hurt Ling, but because it was the only way to survive the truth settling in.
She had loved Ling quietly for years.
And Rhea Noir hadn't stolen Ling away.
Ling had gone to her.
That was what hurt the most.
Eliza's call came when Mira was least ready or already for it.
Her phone buzzed softly in her palm, the screen lighting up with Eliza's name. Mira stared at it for a long second, thumb hovering, breath already uneven.
She swallowed and answered. "Hello?"
"Mira," Eliza's voice was calm, controlled, the way it always was. "How's the trip? Is Ling alright?"
That was it.
That single, ordinary question broke whatever fragile restraint Mira had left.
Her breath hitched, sharp and ugly. "Auntie..." The word came out cracked. Then she couldn't stop it anymore. "He's not... he's not alright. And neither am I."
Eliza's voice sharpened instantly. "Mira, what happened?"
Mira tried to speak. Tried to arrange the truth into something neat, something acceptable.
Instead, she cried.
Not the quiet tears from before, but the kind that shakes your ribs, that makes your chest ache. She turned away from the camp, pressing her forehead against a tree trunk as if it could hold her upright.
"He almost died," Mira sobbed. "Ling got hurt... his head was bleeding... and he still wouldn't let go of her."
Eliza went silent. Not interrupting. Listening.
Mira wiped her face angrily, words spilling faster now, years of restraint unraveling.
"He crossed a line. Ling... Ling never does that. He never touches, never shows, never chooses. But with Rhea... he didn't even think."
Her voice dropped to a whisper. "I saw him. With my own eyes."
A breath on the other end of the line, slow, measured.
"Mira," Eliza said carefully, "tell me exactly what happened."
Mira squeezed her eyes shut. "He was kneeling in front of her. His hands... his mouth... he was trying to help her, but it wasn't just help. It was urgency. Like nothing else existed. He kissed her but not on somewhere normal."
Her throat burned. "He doesn't look at me. Not even once."
Silence stretched again.
When Eliza finally spoke, her voice was softer, but heavier. "So it has reached this point."
Mira laughed weakly through tears. "You knew, didn't you?"