Chapter 1: The Empty Seat
Chapter Text
The first time it happens, it isn't dramatic. No spilled coffee, no grand gestures. Just a full café on a too hot afternoon, and one empty seat at a table occupied by a woman with a pink pen and a matcha.
Love doesn't notice the girl until she's already halfway through her sentence.
"Is this seat taken?"
She glances up, then pauses. The girl is tall, strikingly so, with sunglasses pushed into her hair and a bag slung casually over one shoulder. Her voice is low, careful. She's waiting politely. Love only takes a second to shake her head.
"Go ahead."
The girl sits. The café buzzes around them, milk steam hissing, spoons clinking, low conversations in every direction, but it feels like their table has settled into a quieter bubble. Love glances down at her pile of midterms. She’s halfway through circling a grammar mistake when the girl lets out a soft sigh.
"Thanks. It was chaos in here."
Love hums in agreement.
"Grading?" the girl asks.
Love keeps her eyes on the papers. “Midterms.”
The girl leans back with a grin. “Sounds like my idea of a nightmare.”
Love smirks. “You’d be the first to crack in my class.”
The girl laughs. “Maybe, but at least I’d make it entertaining.” Love smiles softly and nods, then returns her gaze to the stack of papers in front of her.
She finishes the page she's on and finally looks up again. The girl is sipping her drink, elbow on the table, watching the street through the glass. Her features are unfairly lovely, a quiet kind of poise that makes Love think of stage lights and camera shutters. But the way she hunches slightly forward, the soft frizz around her hairline from the heat, the faint smudge of something on her sleeve, it all makes her more human than distant.
They sit in comfortable near-silence for a while. Love finishes three more pages. The girl scrolls on her phone. At some point, the girl speaks again.
"I'm Milk, by the way."
Love looks up. There's a smile tucked into the corner of her mouth. Nothing forced. Just soft, hopeful curiosity.
"Love."
"Really? That's sweet."
Love shrugs. "It's just a name."
Milk tilts her head. "Still. It suits you."
Love doesn't respond to that, not really. She just glances down, turns the page.
When Milk finally leaves, it's with a gentle "thanks again" and a small wave. Love watches her go for a second too long, eyes trailing the line of her back as she moves through the café, disappearing into the crowd outside.
That evening, over dinner, Love recounts the encounter with her friends.
They’re tucked around a booth at their usual spot, bowls of noodles steaming in front of them. View is picking off toppings she doesn’t like, Prim is reorganizing the condiments for the third time, and Tu is stirring her soup with slow, calculated swirls.
Love’s barely finished describing the girl’s smile when View claps her hands, nearly knocking over a cup. "Wait, wait, wait. So she just walked in and asked to sit with you? That’s practically fate."
Prim leans in, resting her chin in her hand. "Was she pretty? No-was she your type?"
"She was tall," Love says, trying for nonchalance. "And… nice."
"Tall and nice? That’s already dangerous," View mutters, pointing a chopstick like it’s a wand of doom.
Tu raises one perfectly shaped brow, her tone dry. "Did she flirt?"
Love shakes her head. "Not really. I don’t think so."
"So she definitely did," Prim concludes, matter-of-fact.
Love hides her smile behind her water glass.
"Are you going back tomorrow?" View asks, wiggling her eyebrows.
"I usually do."
"Mmmhmm," View says knowingly. "For the matcha, right?"
"And the tall girl," Prim adds.
"You already gave her a nickname?" Love says, exasperated.
Prim shrugs. "Makes it easier when we inevitably stalk her Instagram."
Tu doesn’t say anything for a long moment, then finally adds, "Be careful with pretty ones who smile like that."
"Smile like what?"
"Like they know they’ll see you again."
There’s a beat of silence as the others process that. View shoots Tu a look.
"Tu?"
"I’m just saying," Tu replies, sipping her soup.
Love doesn’t say much else. But later, when she’s lying in bed with her laptop open and a half-finished lesson plan blinking on the screen, she finds herself thinking about Milk again. About the quiet confidence. About how her voice lingered longer than it should have.
And the next time she goes to the café, she finds herself glancing at the door a little more often than usual.
Chapter 2: Familiar Strangers
Chapter Text
Milk doesn’t usually revisit cafés. Her schedule is unpredictable, half the time bouncing between fittings, studio lights, and makeup chairs. She prefers anonymity, quiet, transient places where no one expects her to stay. But something about that teacher with the pink pen and the tired eyes has her circling back.
Today, she lingers outside the glass door longer than she intends. She’s already late. Still, when she walks in and spots the familiar figure in the corner, posture slightly hunched over a stack of papers, Milk feels something ease in her chest.
Love doesn’t notice her at first. Milk takes the chance to observe: the focused frown, the way she pushes her sleeves up exactly halfway, the way her lips part slightly when she’s about to scribble something. The seat across from her is empty again.
Milk steps forward.
"Mind if I sit again?"
Love looks up. "It seems to be yours now."
That makes Milk smile.
She slides into the chair and rests her elbows lightly on the table. Her drink is still in her hand, condensation already slick across her palm. She’s dressed more casually today, oversized button-up, jeans, no makeup. She didn’t have to be anywhere but here.
"No midterms today?" she asks, nodding to the papers.
"Quizzes. And a few late essays I’m pretending don’t exist yet."
Milk lets out a soft laugh. "Classic. I’m the queen of pretending deadlines don’t exist."
Love raises an eyebrow, but there’s amusement beneath it. "That’s not very reassuring."
"I never said I was a good example."
She doesn’t say what she really does, not yet. That conversation always turns things weird. The model thing comes with too many assumptions, too many projections. She’s still trying to figure out if Love looks at her that way. So far, it doesn’t seem like it.
They fall into a companionable silence. Milk glances down at her phone screen, blank and untouched. She isn't really doing anything, just holding it. Her gaze drifts back to Love: her lashes, the smudge of ink on her knuckle, the faint crease between her brows.
She doesn’t know what she’s doing. She just knows it feels nice to be here.
Later, when Love leaves with a quiet “see you,” Milk doesn’t ask if that’s a promise. She just hopes it is.
“You’ve been weird,” Namtan announces the next day, flopping onto Milk’s couch without warning.
“I’m always weird,” Milk replies, barefoot and pulling her hair into a lazy ponytail.
“This is different. You’re... what’s the word... domesticated.”
“Excuse me?”
“Last week you flaked on drinks because you were ‘tired,’ and now you’re zoning out like someone dropped a love song into your head.”
Milk throws a pillow at her.
Film, perched quietly beside Namtan, chimes in. “Is it someone new?”
Piploy, who arrived ten minutes late with bubble tea in hand and a book peeking out of her tote, raises an eyebrow. “Or someone we should know about?”
Milk hesitates. Then shrugs. “There’s this girl. At a café.”
Three pairs of eyes zero in on her.
“She’s a teacher,” Milk adds, like that explains anything. “She grades papers with this little frown. She orders matcha and always gets this look like she’s solving a puzzle whenever I talk.”
Namtan gasps. “You like her.”
“I don’t even know her last name.”
“You like her.”
“I’ve just seen her a few times. That’s it.”
But even Milk hears how soft her voice gets around the edges.
Film leans over and nudges Namtan. “Let her breathe. It’s nice. She looks happy.”
Piploy squints. “Do we get to meet her?”
Milk flinches. “Maybe?”
Namtan grins like a cat. “Oh, we will.”
The next week, Milk is already at the café when Love arrives. She waves her over without thinking, and something in her chest flutters when Love smiles in return. They talk more easily now: about books, bad coffee, Milk’s apparent inability to keep plants alive. She still doesn’t say what she does. Not exactly. Love doesn’t ask.
One afternoon, Milk notices Love’s hair is slightly out of place, like she was in a hurry. There’s chalk dust on her sleeve. She’s clearly had a long day, and Milk finds herself offering her own untouched drink without thinking.
"You look like you need this more than me."
Love stares at her for a second. Then, a smile. “Thanks.”
Milk watches her sip. “You guessed right.”
Milk leans forward. “Tough day?”
Love nods, brushing a few strands of hair behind her ear. “One kid told me I’m stricter than his grandma, and another tried to turn in a worksheet with meme stickers on it instead of answers.”
Milk grins. “Honestly, sounds iconic.”
Love gives her a look. “Says the woman who probably hasn’t had to grade fifty papers in one night.”
Milk shrugs. “Guilty. But if it helps, I think you’re intimidating in a cute way.”
Love rolls her eyes but she’s smiling. “That’s not a thing.”
“It is now.”
Their knees bump under the table. Neither of them moves.
Rain drizzles on a quiet Thursday. Milk shows up with two drinks. No umbrella, soaked at the edges, hair curling at her temples.
“You’re drenched,” Love says, startled.
“Couldn’t find my umbrella. Prioritized caffeine over dryness.”
She sets a warm cup in front of Love. “Figured you’d need this.”
Love looks at the drink. Then at her. “You really pay attention.”
“I try.”
Love studies her for a moment, her gaze softer than usual. “You’re a model, aren’t you?”
Milk freezes. “What gave it away?”
Love tilts her head. “You’re too comfortable in front of people. Even when you’re quiet, it’s like you know people are looking.”
Milk considers that, then nods. “Yeah. I am.”
“I thought so,” Love says simply.
Milk watches her face for any shift. “Not what you expected?”
“You talk more than I thought you would.”
Milk laughs. “You’re not the first to say that.”
Love’s smile grows. “But I don’t mind.”
Milk exhales. “Good. I was worried it’d make things weird.”
“It doesn’t,” Love says, tapping her fingers once against the cup. “I like talking with you.”
And for the first time, Milk thinks maybe this is something.
Whatever it is, it’s starting to feel real.
Chapter Text
Love sighs as she closes her grade book and stretches out her arms, eyes lingering on the empty classroom. It’s been a long day, full of broken pencils, misplaced homework, and at least three kids asking for extra recess time. She loves teaching, but sometimes the chaos leaves her more drained than she expects.
Gathering her things, she texts View: “You free for coffee? Need a brain break 😩” Within minutes, View’s enthusiastic reply pops up: “Always. Meet you in 20?”
The café is cozy and familiar, a small refuge from the bustle of work and worries. View is already there when Love arrives, tall, with long dark hair and a grin that makes Love smile despite herself.
“Late again,” View teases, rising to hug Love tightly. “You look exhausted.”
“I am.” Love sinks into the seat with a tired breath. “Grading never ends.”
View nods, taking a sip from her drink. “Prim and Tu are coming to mine later. You should join.”
Love hesitates. She loves her friends, but sometimes their energy can be a bit overwhelming. Still, she nods. “Sure.”
View’s smile grows. “That’s the spirit. You seriously need to unwind.”
They sip their drinks in an easy rhythm. As they sip their drinks, Love starts venting about work, the endless grading, the loud classrooms, the kid who stapled his homework to his sleeve. View laughs in all the right places, warm and patient.
Then Love grows quieter, stirring the foam in her cup. “I’ve seen her again.”
View lifts her eyebrows. “Café girl?”
Love nods. “She’s just... nice to talk to. I don’t know. There’s something about her that makes everything feel less overwhelming.”
Before View can respond, the door swings open. A familiar figure steps inside. Tall, effortlessly styled in loose jeans and a cream shirt, her dark hair tied back in a loose braid. Love glances up, startled. She leans slightly toward View and murmurs, “That’s her.”
View turns, her face lighting up in surprise. “Wait, her? No way. I know her.”
She raises a hand, calling out, “Hey! Over here!”
Milk spots them and crosses the room with a warm, curious smile. “Hey,” she says lightly. “Didn’t expect to see you two together.”
“You two know each other?” Love asks, a little taken aback.
View nods, still grinning. “We met at that gallery opening downtown a few months ago. I was wearing this truly awful shirt, and she complimented it anyway. We ended up talking about art for half an hour.”
Milk laughs. “It wasn’t that bad.”
“It was,” View insists. “But you were polite.”
Then Milk turns to Love. “And you and View?”
Love’s expression softens. “We’ve been friends since university.”
Their eyes meet again, a little longer this time, something soft and hesitant passing between them.
Milk’s phone buzzes in her bag. She glances down, checks the screen, and sighs with a small, apologetic smile. “I’ve got a shoot in thirty minutes, so I should get going.”
She stands, brushing her hand lightly over the table. “It was nice seeing you both.”
As she turns, she glances back at Love, their eyes meeting in a shy moment that lingers longer than it should.
Then she heads out, the bell above the café door jingling quietly behind her.
View watches her go, then tilts her head toward Love. “You’ve got it bad.”
Love’s cheeks flush pink.
Later that evening, Love sits cross-legged on View’s soft rug, the fading orange light through the window casting long shadows across the room. Prim is curled up on the couch, tucked beneath a thick knitted blanket, her hands wrapped around a warm mug. Tu leans against the wall near the window, arms folded, expression sharp but curious.
Love fidgets with the hem of her sleeve, words bubbling up like she’s been waiting to let them out. “So, I saw her again today. At the café.”
Prim perks up instantly. “The girl from before?”
Love nods. “She ended up joining us. View knows her, somehow. They met at a gallery show a few months back.”
Tu raises an eyebrow. “Small world.”
“Very.” Love exhales. “She didn’t stay long, she had a shoot. But it was… nice. Talking with her. Even just for a bit.”
Prim smiles gently. “You’re glowing.”
Love shrugs, trying not to read into it. “I don’t even know what this is yet. I barely know her.”
“But you want to,” Prim says.
“Yeah,” Love admits, voice quiet.
Tu’s gaze sharpens. “And she’s not just pretty?”
“She’s funny. Thoughtful. Not what I expected.”
Prim tucks her legs underneath herself. “She seems like someone who lingers in your thoughts without trying.”
Love glances toward the window, where twilight is beginning to settle. “That’s what scares me.”
Tu unfolds her arms. “We’ve got your back. Just don’t overthink it.”
View, returning from the kitchen with a bowl of snacks, adds, “From what I’ve seen, she’s a good one. Confident, but not full of herself. The kind of person who actually listens. Easy to talk to.”
Love’s shoulders relax.
Notes:
Things will start to pick up in the next chapter, thanks to a certain someone 👀
Chapter 4: The gathering
Notes:
WSX day !! 💚💖
Chapter Text
View's text comes on a Wednesday evening, casual and innocent: "Having people over Saturday. You should come. Bring the gang."
Milk stares at the message, thumb hovering over the keyboard. She's sprawled across her couch, hair in a messy bun, wearing an old shirt that's more holes than fabric. Namtan is on the floor painting her nails a violent shade of purple, while Film sits cross-legged nearby, sketching in a notebook.
"It's just a hangout," Milk says, more to herself than to them.
"What is?" Namtan asks, not looking up from her nails.
"View invited us to her place. Saturday."
Film glances up from her drawing. "That's nice. I like her."
"She's fun," Namtan agrees, then pauses. "Wait. Isn't she friends with the girl from the café?"
Milk's stomach does something unfortunate. "Her name is Love."
"Right. Love." Namtan grins. "So she'll be there?"
"I don't know. Maybe."
"She'll be there," Namtan says with certainty. "View's not subtle. This is totally a setup."
Film sets down her pencil. "Would that be so bad?"
"No," she says finally. "It wouldn't be bad."
Namtan caps her nail polish with a flourish. "Then we're going. I'll text Piploy."
Saturday arrives with the kind of heat that makes everything sticky. Milk changes clothes three times before settling on jeans and a simple white t-shirt. Casual. Effortless. The kind of outfit that took forty minutes to achieve.
"You look fine," Film says gently, watching Milk adjust her hair in the mirror for the tenth time.
"I look like I'm trying too hard."
"You look like you," Piploy says, appearing in the doorway with a bottle of wine and her signature deadpan expression. "Which is the point."
Namtan bounces in behind her, wearing a crop top and the kind of confidence that Milk envies. "Ready to meet the infamous Love?"
"She's not infamous," Milk protests.
"She's something," Namtan says, linking arms with her. "Come on. Time to find out what."
View's apartment is exactly what Milk expected: plants everywhere and mismatched furniture that somehow works. Music plays softly from a speaker in the corner, and the scent of something delicious drifts from the kitchen.
"You made it!" View says, appearing with flushed cheeks and a slightly manic smile. "Come in, come in."
Milk steps inside, immediately scanning the room. Three figures are clustered around the couch: a petite girl with soft features and an oversized sweater, a strikingly beautiful woman with perfect posture, and Love.
She's curled into the corner of the couch, legs tucked under her, wearing dark jeans and a cream-colored sweater that makes her look impossibly soft. Her hair is down, falling in gentle waves around her shoulders, and she's holding a wine glass like it's keeping her grounded.
Their eyes meet across the room. Love's face brightens with a smile that makes Milk's chest do something fluttery and warm.
"Hi," Love says, and her voice carries that same quiet warmth Milk remembers from the café.
"Hi," Milk replies, suddenly forgetting how to move her feet.
Namtan, bless her, jumps into the silence. "I'm Namtan," she announces, striding over with her hand extended. "I've heard so much about you."
Love glances at Milk with raised eyebrows, and Milk feels her cheeks burn.
"Good things, I hope," Love says, shaking Namtan's hand.
"Mostly," Namtan grins.
Film steps forward more quietly. "I'm Film. Namtan's girlfriend. It's nice to meet you."
"Love," she replies, and there's something gentle in the way she says it that makes Film smile.
Piploy introduces herself with characteristic efficiency, then immediately gravitates toward the bookshelf like it's calling to her.
View claps her hands together. "Perfect! Everyone's here. Love, these are my friends from the gallery circuit. Milk, these are my university friends."
The introductions continue. Milk learns that the petite girl is Prim, Love's childhood friend, who has kind eyes and a laugh that sounds like bells. The elegant woman is Tu, who studies Milk with the intensity of someone taking inventory, but not unkindly.
"So you're the one who's been monopolizing our Love's café time," Tu says, and there's the faintest hint of a smile in her voice.
"I wouldn't say monopolizing," Milk replies, glancing at Love, who's hiding behind her wine glass.
"She's been distracted," Prim adds cheerfully. "In a good way."
Love groans. "Can we please not-"
"Oh, we're doing this," Namtan interrupts, settling onto the floor with the enthusiasm of someone who lives for chaos. "Because Milk's been equally distracted."
"I am not."
"You are," Film says quietly. "It's sweet."
Milk wants to melt into the floor. But when she looks at Love, she sees her own mortification reflected back, and somehow that makes it better.
View, clearly delighted by the direction of the conversation, disappears into the kitchen and returns with snacks and more wine. "Alright, let's eat before my friends embarrass each other to death."
The evening unfolds in layers. Initial awkwardness gives way to tentative conversation, then genuine laughter. Namtan and View discover a shared love of terrible reality TV shows and immediately start planning a marathon. Film and Prim bond over their mutual introversion, speaking in soft voices near the window. Piploy and Tu end up in an intense discussion about books that quickly escalates into a friendly argument about character development.
Milk finds herself gravitating toward Love, drawn by some invisible force. They end up on the floor together, backs against the couch, sharing a bowl of popcorn.
"Your friends are nice," Love says quietly, her voice meant only for Milk.
"Yours too. Though Tu is kind of terrifying."
Love laughs. "She's protective. Give her time."
"How long have you known each other?"
"Since university. She helped me through a really rough patch." Love pauses, takes a sip of wine. "What about you and Namtan? You two seem close."
"We work together sometimes. She's loud and chaotic, but she's got the biggest heart." Milk watches as Namtan dramatically reenacts some story to View, complete with wild gestures. "She keeps me grounded, weirdly."
"And Film?"
"Film's... Film." Milk's voice goes soft. "She's the kind of person who makes you want to be better. Quiet, but not in a shy way. More like she's listening to something the rest of us can't hear. And she keeps Namtan in check."
Love smiles and nods like she understands. "That's how I feel about Prim. She's been my constant since we were kids."
They fall into comfortable silence, watching their friends interact. Milk becomes acutely aware of how close they're sitting, how Love's knee keeps brushing against hers every time she shifts. The wine has made everything softer around the edges, including the careful distance they've been maintaining.
"This is nice," Love says eventually.
"Yeah?"
"Seeing you with them. Seeing how you fit."
Milk turns to look at her, caught off guard by the admission. "I was worried they'd be too much."
"They're not. They're perfect for you."
There's something in the way Love says it that makes Milk's heart skip. Like she's been watching closely, paying attention to details that matter.
"Can I ask you something?" Milk says. "Sure."
"That first day at the café. Were you annoyed that I sat down?"
Love considers this, tilting her head slightly. "No. Surprised, maybe. But not annoyed."
"Even though I interrupted your grading?"
"You didn't interrupt anything important." Love's smile is small but genuine. "I was kind of hoping you'd come back."
The admission hangs between them, delicate and honest. Milk feels something shift, a door opening just slightly.
"I wanted to come back," she says. "I kept finding excuses."
"Good excuses?"
"Terrible ones. I don't even like that café's coffee."
Love laughs, and the sound makes Milk feel bold. "So why did you keep going?"
"I think you know why."
They're looking at each other now, really looking, and Milk feels the weight of all the things they haven't said yet. But before either of them can speak, Namtan's voice cuts through the moment. "Oh my god, are you two having a moment? Because we're all pretending not to watch, but we're totally watching."
The spell breaks, and both Love and Milk turn to find six pairs of eyes studiously avoiding their direction while obviously eavesdropping.
"Subtle," Tu says dryly.
"Very," Prim agrees.
View throws a pillow at Namtan. "You have no tact."
"I have plenty of tact," Namtan protests. "I'm just choosing not to use it."
Film catches Milk's eye and offers a small, apologizing smile. Piploy raises her wine glass in what might be a toast.
Love covers her face with her hands. "I'm never living this down."
"Neither of us are," Milk says, but she's smiling.
The evening winds down slowly. Conversations soften, laughter becomes more sporadic, and eventually people start checking their phones and mentioning early mornings. But no one seems eager to leave.
Milk finds herself exchanging numbers with Prim and Tu, making tentative plans with Film about a photography exhibit. Love is hugging goodbye to Namtan, who whispers something that makes Love blush and swat at her arm.
"This was fun," Love says as they gather their things.
"Yeah," Milk agrees. "We should do it again."
"Definitely."
They're standing by the door, the last to leave, while View bustles around collecting glasses and pretending not to listen.
"I should probably get your number," Love says, pulling out her phone with a slightly nervous smile. "You know, in case View decides to orchestrate more setups."
"Just for emergencies," Milk agrees, trying to keep her voice casual while her heart does something acrobatic.
They exchange phones, fingers brushing as they trade devices. Milk types her number carefully, adding her name with a small smiley face that she immediately regrets but doesn't delete.
"There," Love says, handing back Milk's phone. "Now you can't escape."
"Who says I want to?"
The words slip out before Milk can stop them, and she watches Love's cheeks flush pink in the dim hallway light.
"Text me when you get home?" Love says, and there's something almost shy in the way she asks.
"Of course."
Love hesitates for a moment, then steps closer and hugs her goodbye. It's brief, just a moment of warmth and the scent of her perfume, but it leaves Milk feeling unsteady.
"See you soon," Love murmurs against her ear.
"See you soon."
Later, after she gets back to her appartment, Milk sits on her bed with her phone in her hands. She stares at Love's contact information, the simple "Love ❤️" that somehow appeared when they exchanged numbers.
She types and deletes several messages before settling on something simple: "Made it home. Thank you for tonight. Your friends are wonderful."
The response comes quickly: "So are yours. I'm really glad View set this up."
"Even though it was obviously a setup?"
"Especially because it was obviously a setup."
Milk smiles at her phone screen. Outside, the city hums with its usual nighttime energy, but inside her apartment, everything feels still and full of possibility.
"What are you doing tomorrow?"
"Grading papers. Very exciting Sunday night plans."
"Want company? I make bad coffee but I’m great at being quiet and distracting."
There's a longer pause this time, and Milk holds her breath.
"That sounds dangerously appealing."
"I can also bring cookies. For academic morale."
"Now you're just showing off."
"I have more tricks. You'll see."
"Looking forward to it."
And just like that, something shifts. Not dramatically, not with fireworks or grand gestures, but quietly, like the sun rising. Like the most natural thing in the world.
Milk falls asleep with her phone still in her hand, and for the first time in weeks, she doesn't dream about empty cafés or missed connections.
She dreams about pink pens and soft sweaters and the way Love says her name like it means something.
Chapter 5: The Scheming Squad: Post-Party-Debrief
Chapter Text
Group Chat: "Operation MilkLove" (6 members) Created by: View
View - (Sunday 10:23 AM) DEBRIEF TIME everyone awake?
Namtan - (Sunday 10:25 AM) barely but I need to discuss what happened last night
Prim - (Sunday 10:26 AM) I'm still processing the secondhand embarrassment
Tu - (Sunday 10:27 AM) Which part? There were multiple moments.
Film - (Sunday 10:28 AM) they were so obvious it hurt
Piploy - (Sunday 10:29 AM) I've never seen two people work so hard to sit next to each other "casually"
View - (Sunday 10:30 AM) THE POPCORN SHARING I cannot get over the popcorn sharing
Namtan - (Sunday 10:31 AM) milk literally reached across three people to hand love the bowl like bestie just SAY you want to sit next to her
Prim - (Sunday 10:32 AM) Love kept "accidentally" touching Milk's hand when they passed things I counted. SEVEN TIMES.
Tu - (Sunday 10:33 AM) The knee touching was worse.
Film - (Sunday 10:34 AM) actually I thought that was sweet
Piploy - (Sunday 10:35 AM) sweet but also painful to watch like a very slow car crash
Namtan - (Sunday 10:37 AM) milk asked me THREE TIMES if her hair looked okay I was like "for who???" she said "no one" LIES
Prim - (Sunday 10:38 AM) Love changed her shirt twice before coming over then pretended she "just threw on whatever"
Tu - (Sunday 10:39 AM) They're both disasters.
Film - (Sunday 10:40 AM) but cute disasters
View - (Sunday 10:41 AM) the way they lit up when they saw each other though I nearly cried
Piploy - (Sunday 10:42 AM) View you cry at commercials
View - (Sunday 10:43 AM) THIS WAS DIFFERENT it was like watching two puzzle pieces realize they fit together
Namtan - (Sunday 10:44 AM) ok new topic we need to place bets on when they're finally going to get together I'm starting a pool
Tu - (Sunday 10:45 AM) What are the stakes?
Namtan - (Sunday 10:46 AM) winner gets to say "I told you so" for a full week AND the losers have to plan the celebration party
Prim - (Sunday 10:47 AM) I'm in. My guess is... three weeks Love needs time to overthink everything first
View - (Sunday 10:48 AM) two weeks after last night something definitely shifted
Film - (Sunday 10:49 AM) one month they're both too scared to ruin the friendship
Tu - (Sunday 10:50 AM) Six weeks. Love will write pros and cons lists.
Piploy - (Sunday 10:51 AM) I'll take two weeks but only if one of us intervenes
Namtan - (Sunday 10:52 AM) I'm going bold ONE WEEK milk is getting desperate and desperate people do stupid brave things
View - (Sunday 10:53 AM) what makes you think one week???
Namtan - (Sunday 10:54 AM) she texted me at 2am asking if it was "normal" to want to know everything about someone like their favorite season and how they drink their coffee and what makes them laugh
Prim - (Sunday 10:55 AM) oh no she's got it BAD
Film - (Sunday 10:56 AM) that's actually really sweet though
Tu - (Sunday 10:57 AM) It's pathetic. In an endearing way.
View - (Sunday 10:58 AM) wait what did you tell her??
Namtan - (Sunday 10:59 AM) I said yes it's normal if you're IN LOVE she left me on read for an hour then sent back a single question mark
Piploy - (Sunday 11:00 AM) emotional intelligence: zero
Prim - (Sunday 11:01 AM) speaking of zero emotional intelligence Love asked me this morning if it was weird that she dreamed about someone I said no she said "what if you dreamed about holding their hand" I said still no she said "what if you woke up disappointed it wasn't real"
View - (Sunday 11:02 AM) OH MY GOD
Film - (Sunday 11:03 AM) they're both having romantic dreams about each other this is either adorable or tragic
Tu - (Sunday 11:04 AM) Definitely tragic.
Namtan - (Sunday 11:05 AM) ok but also did anyone else notice how they kept finding excuses to compliment each other last night?
View - (Sunday 11:06 AM) YES "your hair looks nice today" "I like your shirt" "you have really pretty eyes"
Piploy - (Sunday 11:07 AM) the pretty eyes comment made me want to shake them both
Prim - (Sunday 11:08 AM) Love turned RED like actually red I've never seen her blush that hard
Film - (Sunday 11:09 AM) and Milk just kept smiling like an idiot
Tu - (Sunday 11:10 AM )They were flirting so hard I got secondhand embarrassment.
Namtan - (Sunday 11:11 AM) wait guys should we be plotting? like actual intervention plotting?
View - (Sunday 11:12 AM) what did you have in mind
Namtan - (Sunday 11:13 AM) I don't know lock them in a room together? fake emergency that requires them to comfort each other?
Piploy - (Sunday 11:14 AM) or we could just let nature take its course
Tu - (Sunday 11:15 AM) Nature is taking too long.
Prim - (Sunday 11:16 AM) I vote for subtle encouragement nothing too dramatic
Film - (Sunday 11:17 AM )agreed they need to figure it out themselves but maybe with a gentle push
View - (Sunday 11:18 AM) okay but what KIND of push
Namtan - (Sunday 11:19 AM) more group hangouts where they "accidentally" end up alone together
Prim - (Sunday 11:20 AM) movie nights where we all mysteriously have to leave early
Tu - (Sunday 11:21 AM) Or we could just tell them they're being obvious.
Film - (Sunday 11:22 AM) Tu no
View - (Sunday 11:23 AM) we tried that last night remember? when nam called them out for having a moment
Namtan - (Sunday 11:24 AM) they both looked like deer in headlights it was beautiful
Piploy - (Sunday 11:25 AM) I still think we should let them suffer a little longer it's entertaining
Prim - (Sunday 11:26 AM) you're evil
Piploy - (Sunday 11:27 AM) I prefer "realistic"
Tu - (Sunday 11:28 AM) I'm with Piploy. The suffering is amusing.
Film - (Sunday 11:29 AM) you're both terrible
View - (Sunday 11:30 AM) okay but seriously what's our next move?
Namtan - (Sunday 11:31 AM) I'm seeing milk for coffee tomorrow I'll do some reconnaissance
Prim - (Sunday 11:32 AM) and I'll see what Love's thinking she's been weird all morning
Tu - (Sunday 11:33 AM) Define weird.
Prim - (Sunday 11:34 AM) she's been staring at her phone and she did her hair even though we're just staying home
Film - (Sunday 11:35 AM) she's probably waiting for a text
View - (Sunday 11:36 AM) from MILK obviously
Piploy - (Sunday 11:37 AM) they're both probably staring at their phones waiting for the other to text first
Namtan - (Sunday 11:38 AM) I'm going to tell milk to text her
Tu - (Sunday 11:39 AM) Don't interfere.
View - (Sunday 11:40 AM) why not??
Tu - (Sunday 11:41 AM) Because they need to figure out how to communicate without us holding their hands.
Film - (Sunday 11:42 AM) tu's right but also it's painful to watch
Prim - (Sunday 11:43 AM) compromise we give them subtle encouragement but no direct interference
Namtan - (Sunday 11:44 AM) define subtle
View - (Sunday 11:45 AM) like mentioning how happy they seem lately or how much they talk about each other
Piploy - (Sunday 11:46 AM) or just straight up asking when they're going to date
Tu - (Sunday 11:47 AM) That's not subtle.
Piploy - (Sunday 11:48 AM) I'm not subtle
Film - (Sunday 11:49 AM) we know
Namtan - (Sunday 11:50 AM) ok but real talk they were so cute last night
View - (Sunday 11:51 AM) the way they kept gravitating toward each other like magnets
Prim - Sunday 11:52 AM) and how they got quiet when they thought we weren't looking just smiling at each other
Tu - (Sunday 11:53 AM) Disgusting. I loved it.
Film - (Sunday 11:54 AM) they're going to be so happy when they finally get together
Piploy - (Sunday 11:55 AM) IF they get together
Namtan - (Sunday 11:56 AM) piploy don't jinx it
View - (Sunday 11:57 AM) they will they have to the universe demands it
Tu - (Sunday 11:58 AM) The universe doesn't care about our entertainment.
Prim - (Sunday 11:59 AM) but we do and we're invested now
Film - (Sunday 12:00 PM) so what's the plan?
Namtan - (Sunday 12:01 PM) step 1: recon missions step 2: subtle encouragement step 3: profit
View - (Sunday 12:02 PM) what's step 3 actually
Namtan - (Sunday 12:03 PM) watch them be adorable together and say "I told you so"
Piploy - (Sunday 12:04 PM) solid plan
Tu - (Sunday 12:05 PM) I hate that I'm part of this.
Film - (Sunday 12:06 PM) but you are
Tu - (Sunday 12:07 PM) Unfortunately.
Prim - (Sunday 12:08 PM) admit it you want them together too
Tu - (Sunday 12:09 PM) ...maybe
View - (Sunday 12:10 PM) I KNEW IT tu has feelings
Tu - (Sunday 12:11 PM) I have a functioning brain that recognizes when two people are perfect for each other.
Namtan - (Sunday 12:12 PM) awww tu cares
Tu - (Sunday 12:13 PM) I care about ending this painful mutual pining.
Film - (Sunday 12:14 PM) sure tu keep telling yourself that
Piploy - (Sunday 12:15 PM) ok but seriously my money's still on two weeks someone's going to crack
View - (Sunday 12:16 PM) I'm changing my bet to ten days after seeing them last night
Namtan - (Sunday 12:17 PM) ONE WEEK mark my words
Prim - (Sunday 12:18 PM) I'm sticking with three weeks Love needs time to process
Tu - (Sunday 12:19 PM) Six weeks. They're both cowards.
Film - (Sunday 12:20 PM) one month but I hope I'm wrong
View - (Sunday 12:21 PM) ok bets are locked in now we wait
Namtan - (Sunday 12:22 PM) and scheme
Prim - (Sunday 12:23 PM) subtly scheme
Tu - (Sunday 12:24 PM) I regret joining this chat.
Film - (Sunday 12:25 PM) no you don't
Tu - (Sunday 12:26 PM) ...no I don't
Piploy - (Sunday 12:27 PM) group photo for the archives?
View - (Sunday 12:28 PM) yes we need to document this historic moment
Namtan - (Sunday 12:29 PM) the birth of operation milklove
Prim - (Sunday 12:30 PM) I love that we're all disasters
Film - (Sunday 12:31 PM) but we're disasters with a mission
Tu - Sunday 12:32 PM) The most ridiculous mission ever.
View - (Sunday 12:33 PM) the most IMPORTANT mission ever
Piploy - (Sunday 12:34 PM) same thing
Namtan - (Sunday 12:35 PM) ok everyone cross your fingers may the best wingwoman win
Tu - (Sunday 12:36 PM) We're all going to lose our minds before this is over.
Film - (Sunday 12:37 PM) probably but it'll be worth it
View - (Sunday 12:38 PM) for love
Prim - (Sunday 12:39 PM) for Love
Namtan - (Sunday 12:40 PM) FOR LOVE
Tu - (Sunday 12:41 PM) I hate you all.
Prim - (Sunday 12:42 PM) love you too tu 💕
Tu - (Sunday 12:43 PM) ...love you too
View changed the group name to "The Wingwoman Squad"
View - (Sunday 12:44 PM) there now it's official
Namtan - (Sunday 12:45 PM) I'm so proud of us
Film - (Sunday 12:46 PM) we haven't actually accomplished anything yet
Prim - (Sunday 12:47 PM) but we will
Tu - (Sunday 12:48 PM) Or we'll die trying.
View - (Sunday 12:49 PM) worth it
Piploy - (Sunday 12:50 PM) absolutely worth it
Namtan - (Sunday 12:51 PM) ok squad mission starts tomorrow
Film - (Sunday 12:52 PM) may the odds be ever in our favor
Tu - (Sunday 12:53 PM) We're going to need all the help we can get.
View - (Sunday 12:54 PM) but mostly we need them to stop being oblivious
Prim - (Sunday 12:55 PM) one crisis at a time
Namtan - (Sunday 12:56 PM) signing off duty calls
Tu - (Sunday 12:57 PM) What duty?
Namtan - (Sunday 12:58 PM) going to stalk milk's instagram for clues
Film - (Sunday 12:59 PM) that's not duty that's obsession
Piploy - (Sunday 1:00 PM) what's the difference
View - (Sunday 1:01 PM) exactly see you all on the other side
Tu - (Sunday 1:02 PM) This is going to be a long few weeks.
Prim - (Sunday 1:03 PM) the longest
Film - (Sunday 1:04 PM) but hopefully not too long
Namtan - (Sunday 1:05 PM) ONE WEEK calling it now
View - (Sunday 1:06 PM) we'll see about that
Tu - (Sunday 1:07 PM) May the best wingwoman win.
Piploy - (Sunday 1:08 PM) game on 🎯
Chat notifications silenced until someone spots MilkLove being disasters again
Notes:
The ep 4 of WSX was so good 💚💖
Chapter Text
Milk stands outside Love's apartment building, holding a paper bag of cookies and a travel mug of what she optimistically calls coffee. She's been here for three minutes, staring at the buzzer like it might bite her.
The cookies are from the bakery down the street from her place, soft chocolate chip ones that smell like butter and vanilla. The coffee is from her own kitchen, which means it's probably terrible. She'd tried to make it twice, burning the first batch and over-diluting the second. This third attempt tastes like disappointment with a hint of optimism.
She presses the buzzer.
"Hi," Love's voice crackles through the intercom, warm even through the static.
"It's me. With promises fulfilled and questionable beverages."
The door buzzes open.
Love's apartment is on the third floor, and by the time Milk reaches the landing, she's slightly out of breath and her hair is doing something unfortunate. She pauses, tries to smooth it down, then gives up and knocks.
Love opens the door in soft gray leggings and an oversized sweater that makes her look impossibly cozy. Her hair is pulled back in a loose ponytail, and she's wearing glasses, small, wire-rimmed things that Milk has never seen before.
"You wear glasses," Milk says, slightly stunned.
Love touches them self-consciously. "Just for reading. And grading. They're not very-"
"They're perfect," Milk interrupts, then immediately feels her cheeks burn. "I mean. They suit you."
Love's smile is soft and a little shy. "Come in. Before you say something else that makes me blush."
The apartment is exactly what Milk expected and nothing like she imagined. It's small but bright, with plants crowding the windowsill and books stacked on every available surface. There's a reading nook in the corner with a worn armchair and a lamp that casts warm light. Papers are spread across the coffee table in organized chaos.
"Sorry about the mess," Love says, gesturing at the papers. "I promised I'd finish these before you got here, but third-graders have very... creative interpretations of math problems."
Milk sets the cookies on the kitchen counter and peers at the papers. "What kind of creative?"
"Yesterday, someone solved 'If Sally has 12 apples and gives away 4, how many does she have left?' by drawing Sally keeping all the apples because 'sharing is optional.'"
Milk laughs. "Technically correct."
"That's what I wrote on the paper."
"You're a good teacher."
Love glances at her, something soft in her expression. "I try."
Milk holds up the travel mug. "As promised. Bad coffee. Made with love and zero skill."
"Perfect." Love takes it, sips, and her face does something complicated. "It's... distinctive."
"That's a polite way of saying it's awful."
"It's got character."
Milk grins. "I'll take it."
They settle in the living room, Love curled in her chair with the mug cradled in her hands, Milk cross-legged on the floor beside the coffee table. The papers are spread between them like a buffer, but it feels companionable rather than distant.
"So," Love says, picking up a red pen. "You promised to be quiet and distracting. How exactly does that work?"
"I haven't figured that out yet," Milk admits. "I'm usually just distracting by accident."
"Like how?"
"Well, I knocked over a lamp yesterday trying to water a plant. The plant was fake."
Love snorts. "How do you knock over a lamp watering a fake plant?"
"Talent," Milk says solemnly. "Pure, undiluted talent."
Love shakes her head, still smiling, and turns back to the papers. Milk watches her for a moment, the way she holds the pen, the little crease between her eyebrows when she concentrates, the way she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear without thinking.
"You're staring," Love says without looking up.
"I'm observing."
"That's the same thing."
"It's academic observation. For research purposes."
Love raises an eyebrow. "Research into what?"
"How you work. Whether you actually bite your lip when you're thinking or if I imagined it."
"I do not bite my lip."
"You're doing it right now."
Love's hand flies to her mouth, and Milk grins triumphantly.
"That's cheating," Love mutters.
"I'm being distracting. As promised."
For a while, they fall into a comfortable rhythm. Love grades papers, making small humming sounds when she encounters something amusing. Milk sprawls on the floor, occasionally offering commentary on the visible math problems or sharing random observations about Love's apartment.
"You have a lot of books," she says, eyeing the overflowing shelves.
"I'm a teacher. It's occupational hazard."
"Do you actually read all of them?"
"Most of them. Some are reference books. Some are comfort reads."
"What's a comfort read?"
Love considers this, pen hovering over a paper. "The kind of book you go back to when the world feels too sharp. When you need something familiar and safe."
"Like what?"
"Anne of Green Gables. Pride and Prejudice. The first Percy Jackson book."
Milk tilts her head. "You seem like someone who'd read poetry."
"I do. But poetry isn't always comforting. Sometimes it's too true."
There's something in the way she says it that makes Milk want to ask more, but Love has already turned back to her grading. Instead, Milk gets up and wanders to the bookshelf, running her fingers along the spines.
"Can I look?"
"Of course."
Milk pulls out a slim volume of poetry, opens it to a random page. The margins are filled with Love's handwriting, small, careful notes and questions. It's intimate in a way that makes Milk's chest feel warm.
"You annotate everything," she observes.
"Bad habit from university."
"It's not bad. It's like... having a conversation with the book."
Love glances up from her papers. "You get it."
"I'm not much of a reader, but I get that. The conversation part."
"What do you do instead? When you need comfort?"
Milk considers this. "I cook. Badly. Or I call Namtan and let her talk until I feel human again. Or I go for walks at weird hours and pretend I'm in a movie."
"What kind of movie?"
"Usually something dramatic. Where the cinematography is really good and everyone's slightly tragic but beautiful."
Love laughs. "You're ridiculous."
"I'm cinematic."
"Is that what you call it?"
Milk puts the book back and returns to her spot on the floor. "What about you? What do you do when grades aren't enough?"
"I make lists," Love says. "Or I clean. Or I sit in that chair and read until I forget what I was worried about."
"That sounds peaceful."
"It is. Usually."
"But not always?"
Love's pen pauses. "Sometimes your brain is too loud for reading."
Milk nods like she understands, and maybe she does. They sit in comfortable silence for a moment, Love working and Milk watching the late afternoon light shift across the room.
"Can I ask you something?" Love says eventually.
"Sure."
"Why modeling? You seem like you'd be good at other things."
Milk stretches, considering. "I kind of fell into it. I was tall and broke and someone offered me money to stand in front of a camera. It turned out I was okay at it."
"Just okay?"
"I'm good at being still. At holding a pose. At looking like whatever the photographer needs me to look like." She pauses. "But I don't think I'm passionate about it. Not the way you are about teaching."
"What would you be passionate about?"
"I don't know yet. Maybe that's the problem."
Love looks at her with something soft in her expression. "You're young. You have time to figure it out."
"Do I seem young to you?"
"You seem..." Love searches for the word. "Unfinished. In a good way. Like you're still becoming."
Milk feels something flutter in her chest. "That's either very profound or very insulting."
"It's a compliment. I think."
"I'll take it."
Love returns to her papers, but there's something different in the air now. Something more open. Milk gets up and goes to the kitchen, returning with the bag of cookies.
"Break time," she announces, setting the bag on the coffee table. "You've been working for an hour."
"I've been working for three hours. You've been here for one."
"Even more reason for cookies."
Love sets down her pen and takes a cookie, biting into it with a small sound of appreciation. "These are really good."
"Don't sound so surprised."
"I'm not surprised. I'm impressed."
"I didn't make them."
"I know. But you chose well."
They eat cookies in companionable silence. Love has chocolate on her bottom lip, and Milk has to actively stop herself from reaching out to wipe it away.
"You have..." Milk gestures vaguely at her own mouth.
Love touches her lip self-consciously. "Did I get it?"
"Other side."
Love tries again, misses. Without thinking, Milk reaches out and brushes the chocolate away with her thumb.
They freeze.
Milk's thumb is still touching Love's lip, and Love's eyes are wide behind her glasses, and neither of them is breathing properly.
"Sorry," Milk whispers, but she doesn't pull her hand away.
"It's okay," Love whispers back.
They're leaning toward each other now, drawn by some invisible force. Love's hand comes up to rest on Milk's wrist, holding her there.
"Love," Milk says, and her voice is soft and uncertain.
"Yeah?"
"I think I should go."
The words hang in the air between them like a broken promise. Love's hand drops from Milk's wrist, and the space where her thumb had been touching Love's lip suddenly feels cold.
"Right," Love says, her voice carefully neutral. "Of course."
Milk pulls back, immediately missing the warmth. "I mean, you have work to finish, and I-"
"It's fine," Love interrupts, but her cheeks are pink and she won't meet Milk's eyes. "You're right. I should finish these."
The easy atmosphere from moments before has evaporated, replaced by something awkward and charged. Milk stands up too quickly, nearly knocking over her empty coffee mug in the process.
"I'll just..." She gestures vaguely toward the door, then remembers to grab her mug from the counter. "Thank you for letting me stay. And for drinking the terrible coffee."
"It wasn't that terrible," Love says, following her to the door. It's a lie, and they both know it.
Milk pauses at the threshold, one hand on the doorframe. She wants to say something, anything, that might smooth over the strange tension between them, but every word that comes to mind feels either too much or not enough.
"See you around," she settles on, which is possibly the most inadequate thing she could have chosen.
"Yeah," Love says softly. "See you."
The door closes with a gentle click, and Milk stands in the hallway for a moment, staring at the number on Love's door like it might give her answers. She can hear movement inside, Love probably returning to her papers, trying to pretend the last ten minutes didn't happen.
Milk makes it halfway down the stairs before she stops, pressing her back against the wall. Her heart is still racing, and she can't decide if she's more disappointed or relieved that she pulled away.
She pulls out her phone, types "I'm sorry" three times, and deletes it each time.
Love stares at the math papers spread across her coffee table, but the numbers might as well be hieroglyphs. She keeps touching her lip where Milk's thumb had been, keeps replaying the moment when everything shifted.
She should be grateful Milk left. Should be relieved that they didn't cross a line that would complicate everything. But instead, she feels hollow, like something important just slipped through her fingers.
Her phone buzzes.
Milk: "Made it home safely. building didn't collapse without me there to knock things over"
Love stares at the message for a long moment, then types back: "Probably for the best. I don't think my insurance covers acts of Milk"
Milk: "Acts of Milk should definitely be its own category"
Love: "Right next to acts of God"
Milk: "I'm flattered by the comparison"
The exchange is light, normal, like they're both pretending the last hour didn't happen. Love should probably leave it there, let them both retreat to safety.
Instead, she finds herself typing: "Thank you for the cookies. and the company"
Milk: "Thank you for letting me be quietly distracting"
Love: "You weren't that quiet"
Milk: "But I was distracting?"
Love's thumb hovers over the keyboard. She could deflect, make a joke, keep everything surface-level and safe. But something about the way Milk had looked at her, the careful way she'd touched her lip, makes her want to be honest.
Love: "Very distracting"
The three dots appear and disappear several times before Milk's response comes through: "Sorry about... before I left"
Love: "Don't be sorry"
Milk: "I just didn't want to assume anything"
Love: "You didn't assume anything"
Milk: "Didn't I?"
Love stares at the question, her heart doing something complicated in her chest. She thinks about Milk's thumb on her lip, the way they'd leaned toward each other like magnets, the moment when everything else had faded away.
Love: "Maybe we both did"
Milk: "Maybe"
Love: "Is that okay?"
Milk: "I don't know yet"
Love: "Me neither"
Milk: "But I'm glad I came over today"
Love: "Me too"
Milk: "Even if the coffee was terrible"
Love: "Especially because the coffee was terrible"
Milk: "?"
Love: "Gave me an excuse to focus on something else"
Milk: "Like what?"
Love's cheeks burn as she types: "Like trying not to stare at you"
Milk: "You can stare at me"
Love: "That's dangerous"
Milk: "Maybe I like dangerous"
Love: "Maybe I do too"
They both go quiet after that, and Love can almost feel the weight of the admission settling between them. She sets her phone aside and tries to return to her grading, but the papers blur together. All she can think about is the way Milk had whispered her name, soft and uncertain, right before everything changed.
Her phone buzzes one more time.
Milk: "Sweet dreams, Love"
Love: "Sweet dreams, Milk"
Love closes her eyes and lets herself imagine, just for a moment, what might have happened if neither of them had pulled away.
Notes:
Oops
Chapter Text
The week passes in a haze of almost-texts and careful distance. Love finds herself writing messages to Milk that she never sends, her thumb hovering over the keyboard before she deletes line after line of "How are you" and "Thinking of you" and "I can't stop remembering the way you looked at me."
She grades papers with unusual aggression, her red pen slashing through incorrect answers like she's trying to cut through her own confusion. The kids notice, Tommy asks if she's okay after she marks his perfectly correct math problem wrong, and she has to apologize and fix it with a shaky smile.
"You're distracted," Prim observes over lunch on Wednesday. They're sitting in the teacher's lounge, surrounded by the usual chaos of microwaved leftovers and gossip about parent-teacher conferences. "More than usual."
"I'm fine," Love says, stabbing at her salad.
"You've been 'fine' for three days. That's not normal for you."
Love glances around the room, confirming they're not being overheard, then leans closer. "We almost kissed."
Prim's eyes widen. "What?"
"Sunday. When she came over. We were just sitting there, and I had chocolate on my lip, and she..." Love trails off, touching her own lip unconsciously. "I don't know what happened. But we almost... and then she left."
"She left?"
"She said she should go. Right after." Love's voice gets smaller. "Maybe she realized it was a mistake."
Prim sets down her sandwich. "Or maybe she got scared."
"Of what?"
"Of ruining something good. Of moving too fast. Of not knowing what you want." Prim's voice is gentle. "Have you talked to her since?"
"We texted. But it's different now. Like we're both being careful not to touch whatever's between us."
"That sounds exhausting."
"It is." Love pushes her salad around her plate. "I don't know what I'm doing, Prim. I don't know what I want from this."
"Yes, you do."
Love looks up, startled by the certainty in Prim's voice.
"You like her," Prim continues. "You light up when you talk about her. You've been different since you met her, happier, more... present. You know what you want. You're just scared to want it."
"What if she doesn't want the same thing?"
"What if she does?"
Love doesn't have an answer for that.
Milk is handling her confusion by throwing herself into work with the kind of intensity that makes everyone around her nervous. She's taken three shoots this week, including one that required her to pose in a frozen lake at dawn because the photographer had a vision about "capturing the fragility of winter's last breath."
"You're being weird," Namtan says, finding her in the makeup chair at Thursday's shoot. "Weirder than usual."
"I'm not weird," Milk replies, eyes closed while the makeup artist applies false lashes. "I'm professional."
"You're professionally weird. There's a difference."
Milk opens one eye. "Don't you have somewhere else to be?"
"Not really. Film's at class and I'm between jobs." Namtan perches on the edge of the makeup counter. "Want to talk about why you've been avoiding your phone?"
"I'm not avoiding my phone."
"You turned it face-down. You never do that."
Milk doesn't respond, but her jaw tightens slightly.
"Is this about the teacher?" Namtan presses.
"Her name is Love."
"Is this about Love?"
The makeup artist steps back, giving Milk's face a final once-over. "You're done, honey. Twenty minutes until the next look."
Milk nods and waits until the woman is out of earshot before answering. "I almost kissed her."
"And?"
"And I left."
Namtan stares at her. "You left? Why would you leave?"
"Because I panicked." Milk's voice is small. "Because I don't know what I'm doing with her. Because she's not like anyone I've ever met and I don't want to fuck it up."
"So you left."
"So I left."
"That's the stupidest thing you've ever done."
"Thanks. Very helpful."
Namtan softens. "Milk, honey, you can't run away from every good thing that happens to you."
"I'm not running away. I'm being cautious."
"You're being scared."
"Same thing."
"It's not, though." Namtan shifts, facing her fully. "Being cautious is taking things slow. Being scared is sabotaging something before it can start."
Milk stares at her reflection in the mirror, all sharp angles and perfect makeup that makes her look like someone else entirely. "What if I'm not good at this?"
"At what?"
"At being with someone like her. Someone who's... grounded. Who knows what she wants."
"You don't know what she wants."
"She wants someone who doesn't run away when things get real."
Namtan is quiet for a moment, then reaches out and squeezes Milk's hand. "You know what I think?"
"What?"
"I think you're both scared. And I think you're both overthinking this. And I think you should text her."
"And say what?"
"How about 'hi'?"
Milk laughs despite herself. "Very profound."
"Sometimes profound is overrated."
Love's phone buzzes during her prep period on Friday. She's alone in her classroom, surrounded by the aftermath of a particularly chaotic art project involving glitter and what she optimistically called "creative expression."
Milk: "Hi"
Love stares at the message for a full minute before typing back: "Hi"
Milk: "How's your day?"
Love: "Covered in glitter and questioning my life choices. you?"
Milk: "Standing in front of a wind machine pretending to be ethereal"
Love: "Are you succeeding?"
Milk: "The photographer seems happy. I mostly just feel cold"
Love: "That's very ethereal of you"
Milk: "I'm a professional"
The conversation feels lighter than it has all week, and Love finds herself smiling at her phone. But underneath the casual banter, she can feel the weight of everything they're not saying.
Milk: "Can I ask you something?"
Love: "Sure"
Milk: "Are we okay?"
Love's heart does something complicated. She types and deletes several responses before settling on: "I don't know. Are we?"
Milk: "I don't know either"
Love: "I keep thinking about Sunday"
Milk: "Me too"
Love: "I don't know why you left"
Milk: "I don't know why I left either"
Love: "But you did"
Milk: "I did"
Love stares at the conversation, feeling something heavy settle in her chest. She's about to type something, what, she doesn't know, when another message appears.
Milk: "I was scared"
The honesty of it hits Love like a physical thing. She sets her phone down, takes a breath, then picks it up again.
Love: "Of what?"
Milk: "Of wanting something I don't know how to have"
Love: "What do you want?"
The three dots appear and disappear several times. Love watches them, her heart beating too fast, wondering if she's pushed too hard.
Milk: "You"
The word sits on her screen, simple and devastating. Love stares at it until her vision blurs, then types back: "I want you too"
Milk: "That's terrifying"
Love: "Completely terrifying"
Milk: "What do we do now?"
Love: "I don't know"
Milk: "I've never been good at not knowing"
Love: "Me neither"
They both go quiet, and Love can feel the conversation balanced on the edge of something. She wants to say more, wants to ask what this means, wants to know if they're going to keep dancing around each other or if they're going to be brave enough to see where this goes.
Her phone buzzes again.
Milk: "Can I see you?"
Love: "When?"
Milk: "Tonight? I know it's short notice but I can't stop thinking about you and I feel like if I don't see you soon I'm going to do something stupid"
Love: "Like what?"
Milk: "Like show up at your apartment uninvited with flowers and a speech I haven't written yet"
Love: "That sounds very romantic"
Milk: "It sounds very desperate"
Love: "Maybe I like desperate"
Milk: "Maybe I like that you like desperate"
Love: "Where do you want to meet?"
Milk: "Somewhere neutral. somewhere we can talk without me getting distracted by how comfortable you look in your apartment"
Love: "The park by the river? There's a bench under the big oak tree"
Milk: "I know the one"
Love: "7pm?"
Milk: "I'll be there"
Love: "Milk?"
Milk: "Yeah?"
Love: "Bring the flowers"
Milk: "What?"
Love: "If you're going to be desperate, might as well commit to it"
Milk: "You're going to be the death of me"
Love: "I hope not. I'm getting attached"
The park is quiet at seven, the last light of day filtering through the oak tree's branches in soft, golden streams. Love arrives first, settling on the bench with her hands folded in her lap, heart racing like she's sixteen again.
When Milk appears on the path, she's carrying a small bouquet of yellow tulips and wearing an expression that's half-nervous, half-determined. She's changed out of whatever she wore to the shoot, now in jeans and a soft blue sweater that makes her eyes look impossibly bright.
"You actually brought flowers," Love says as Milk approaches.
"You told me to commit." Milk sits beside her, not quite close enough to touch. "These are for you."
Love takes the tulips, their stems slightly damp from Milk's nervous grip. "They're beautiful."
"They're an apology."
"For what?"
"For leaving. For being scared. For making this weird when it didn't have to be."
Love looks down at the flowers, then back at Milk. "It was already weird. Good weird. But weird."
"Yeah?"
"I don't usually have almost-moments with people I barely know."
"Do you want to know me better?"
The question hangs between them, simple and loaded. Love traces her thumb over a tulip petal, considering.
"I want to know what you're like when you're not being careful," she says finally. "I want to know what makes you laugh when you think no one's looking. I want to know why you chose modeling and whether you're happy and what you dream about."
Milk's expression softens. "I want to know why you became a teacher. I want to know what books made you cry and what your favorite student ever said to you and why you always order matcha."
Love laughs. "It's healthy."
They look at each other, and Love can feel the careful distance they've been maintaining start to dissolve.
"I don't know how to do this," Milk says quietly.
"Do what?"
"This. Dating. Being with someone who matters."
"I matter?"
"You matter so much it scares me."
Love sets the flowers carefully beside her on the bench, then reaches for Milk's hand. Their fingers intertwine like they've done this a hundred times before.
"I'm scared too," Love admits. "But I'm tired of being scared of good things."
"What if we're terrible at this?"
"Then we'll be terrible together."
Milk laughs, and the sound is soft and genuine. "That's not very reassuring."
"I'm not good at reassuring. I'm good at grading papers and making lists and overthinking everything."
"I'm good at posing for cameras and pretending to be someone else and leaving when things get real."
"Sounds like we're both disasters."
"Complete disasters."
They sit in comfortable silence for a moment, hands linked, watching the last light fade from the sky. Love can feel Milk's thumb tracing small circles on her palm, and the simple touch makes her heart do something fluttery.
"Can I ask you something?" Milk says eventually.
"Anything."
"When you almost kissed me, did you want to? Or were you just caught up in the moment?"
Love considers this, then turns to face Milk fully. "I've wanted to kiss you since the second time you sat down at my table. Maybe since the first time."
"Really?"
"Really. I kept thinking about your mouth when you talked. About what you'd taste like."
Milk's cheeks flush pink. "That's very distracting information."
"You asked."
"I did." Milk's voice is softer now. "Can I ask you something else?"
"Yeah."
"Would you like to go on a date with me?"
The question is simple, but Love can hear the vulnerability underneath it. She thinks about saying yes immediately, about the relief that would flood Milk's face, about how easy it would be to just fall into this.
Instead, she asks, "What kind of date?"
"The kind where I pick you up and we go somewhere and I try to impress you and you pretend to be impressed."
"I don't think I'd have to pretend."
"The kind where we both dress nicely and I'm nervous and you're nervous and we talk about everything except how much we want to kiss each other."
"That sounds terrible."
Milk grins. "It does, doesn't it?"
"Completely awful."
"So you'll do it?"
Love looks at her, at the way the fading light catches in her hair, at the hopeful smile playing at the corners of her mouth, at the way she's holding Love's hand like it's something precious.
"Yes," she says. "I'll do it."
"Really?"
"Really. On one condition."
"What?"
"After we're done pretending not to want to kiss each other, we stop pretending."
Milk's smile grows wider. "Deal."
"Deal."
They shake on it, which is ridiculous and perfect and makes them both laugh. The park is getting darker now, streetlights beginning to flicker on along the path.
"I should probably go," Love says, but she doesn't move.
"Probably," Milk agrees, also not moving.
"This was good, though."
"This was very good."
Love stands first, still holding Milk's hand. "When?"
"When what?"
"When do you want to go on this terrible date?"
"Tomorrow night? If you're free."
"I'm free."
"Good. I'll pick you up at seven."
"Should I dress nicely?"
"You should dress however makes you feel pretty."
Love's heart does something complicated. "Milk?"
"Yeah?"
"I already feel pretty when I'm with you."
Milk's expression goes soft and surprised. "You can't say things like that."
"Why not?"
"Because it makes me want to kiss you right now."
"Maybe I want you to."
They're standing close now, still holding hands, and Love can feel the tension building between them like a held breath. But instead of moving closer, Milk brings their joined hands to her lips and presses a soft kiss to Love's knuckles.
"Tomorrow," she says against Love's skin. "I want to do this right."
Love's breath catches. "Okay."
"Okay."
They separate slowly, reluctantly. Love gathers her flowers and starts toward the path, then turns back.
"Milk?"
"Yeah?"
"Thank you for the tulips. And for being brave enough to ask."
"Thank you for saying yes."
Love walks home with yellow tulips in her hands and a date tomorrow night, and for the first time in weeks, everything feels like it's exactly where it should be.
Notes:
Fav chapter. Wish I was as brave as the two of them.
Chapter 8: The Date
Notes:
Thank you for all your comments on the previous chapter ❤️
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Love changes her outfit four times before settling on a simple black dress that falls just above her knees and a cardigan that she can fidget with if her hands get nervous.
Her phone buzzes at 6:45.
Milk: "On my way. And I'm nervous"
Love: "Good nervous or bad nervous?"
Milk: "Good nervous. Like before a really important photo shoot"
Love: "I'm nervous too"
Milk: "Good. I'd hate to be the only one"
Love checks her reflection one more time, smoothing down her hair and adjusting her cardigan. She's opted for minimal makeup, just enough to feel put-together without looking like she's trying too hard. The yellow tulips from yesterday sit in a glass on her kitchen counter, and she touches one of the petals for luck.
The knock comes at exactly seven o'clock.
When Love opens the door, Milk is standing in the hallway wearing dark jeans and a soft green button-down that brings out her eyes. Her hair is down, falling in loose waves around her shoulders, and she's holding a single white rose.
"Hi," Milk says, and her voice is slightly breathless.
"Hi," Love replies, taking in the sight of her. "You look beautiful."
"So do you." Milk holds out the rose. "I know I gave you flowers yesterday, but I read somewhere that you should always bring flowers on a first date."
"Where did you read that?"
"The internet. At three in the morning when I couldn't sleep."
Love takes the rose, inhaling its delicate fragrance. "Were you researching first date etiquette?"
"I was researching how not to completely embarrass myself."
"Find anything useful?"
"Mostly just advice to be myself, which is terrifying given that myself is currently a nervous wreck."
Love laughs, and some of the tension in her shoulders eases. "Well, I happen to like nervous wrecks."
"Good, because you're getting the full experience tonight."
Love grabs her purse and locks the door behind her. "So where are we going?"
"It's a surprise."
"A good surprise or a bad surprise?"
"I'm hoping good. But I've never done this before, so..." Milk trails off, looking uncertain.
"Never done what?"
"Planned a date for someone I actually care about impressing."
The admission makes Love's heart do something fluttery. "I'm sure it'll be perfect."
"Don't say that. You'll jinx it."
They make their way downstairs, and Love is surprised to see a small black car waiting at the curb instead of Milk's usual ride-share.
"You drive?" Love asks.
"I borrowed Film's car. Figured it was more romantic than explaining our life stories to a stranger."
Milk opens the passenger door for her with a slightly nervous smile. "Is this too much? I can't tell if I'm being charming or trying too hard."
"You're being charming," Love assures her, settling into the seat. "Trying too hard would be a limousine."
"I considered it."
"Really?"
"No, but I thought about it long enough to Google prices."
Love shakes her head, smiling. "You're ridiculous."
"I'm smitten," Milk corrects, starting the engine. "There's a difference."
The drive takes them through the quieter parts of the city, past tree-lined streets and old brick buildings painted golden in the evening light. Milk has music playing softly—something indie and atmospheric that somehow perfectly matches the mood.
"So," Love says, watching Milk's hands on the steering wheel, "are you going to tell me where we're going?"
"We're almost there."
"That's not an answer."
"It's an answer. Just not a very specific one."
Love settles back in her seat, content to watch the city pass by. There's something intimate about being in a car together, the enclosed space making every glance feel more significant.
"Can I ask you something?" Milk says, stopping at a red light.
"Always."
"Are you disappointed it's not somewhere fancy?"
Love studies her profile. "Where are we going?"
"Somewhere that matters to me. But it's not... I don't know. It's not the kind of place most people would choose for a first date."
"Most people aren't you."
"Is that good or bad?"
"That's very good."
The light turns green, and Milk makes a left turn into a part of town Love doesn't recognize. They're heading toward the river, past old warehouses and converted lofts, until Milk pulls into a small parking lot beside what looks like an abandoned building.
"Here?" Love asks, trying to hide her confusion.
"Trust me," Milk says, getting out of the car.
She comes around to open Love's door, then leads her toward what Love now realizes isn't an abandoned building at all. There's a small, discrete sign by the entrance: "Rooftop Gardens - Open Until 9 PM."
"It's a community garden," Milk explains as they climb the stairs. "But they built it on the roof of an old warehouse. Most people don't know about it."
They emerge onto the rooftop, and Love's breath catches. The space has been transformed into a lush garden oasis, with raised beds full of vegetables and herbs, trellises covered in climbing flowers, and small seating areas tucked between the plantings. String lights are draped overhead, creating a warm, magical atmosphere as the sun sets.
"Milk," Love breathes, "this is incredible."
"I found it by accident a few months ago. I was walking around after a shoot, feeling kind of lost, and I saw someone coming down those stairs carrying tomatoes. I was curious, so I followed them up." Milk's voice is soft. "I've been coming here ever since."
"It's beautiful."
"I thought you might like it. You have those plants in your apartment."
Love turns to look at her, struck by the thoughtfulness of the choice. "You were right."
Milk's smile is relieved and pleased. "Come on, I want to show you something."
She leads Love through winding paths between the garden beds, past tomatoes heavy with fruit and herbs that fill the air with their scent. Other people are scattered throughout the space, a couple reading on a bench, an elderly man tending to a patch of carrots, a group of friends sharing a picnic.
"Here," Milk says, stopping at a small seating area tucked behind a trellis of morning glories. Two chairs are arranged facing the city skyline, with a small table between them. "I may have bribed the garden coordinator to let me set this up."
The table is set simply, two glasses, a bottle of wine, and a small basket covered with a checkered cloth. It's intimate without being overwhelming, thoughtful without being ostentatious.
"You bribed someone?" Love asks, settling into one of the chairs.
"I may have offered to do a promotional shoot for their website in exchange for exclusive access to this corner for two hours."
"That's very resourceful."
"I'm motivated." Milk uncorks the wine, her movements slightly nervous. "I hope you like red. I know you usually drink white, but I thought... well, I thought red felt more like a date wine."
"I like red."
"Good." Milk pours for both of them, her hand shaking slightly. "I'm not very good at this."
"At what?"
"Dating. Romance. Knowing what to do with my hands."
Love laughs. "Your hands are fine."
"They feel huge and useless."
"They're not." Love reaches across the table and takes one of Milk's hands in hers. "They're perfect."
Milk's fingers intertwine with hers, and some of the tension leaves her shoulders. "Thank you."
"For what?"
"For being patient with me. For not making me feel ridiculous for being nervous."
"You're not ridiculous." Love squeezes her hand. "You're sweet."
"I'm terrified I'm going to mess this up."
"You're not going to mess anything up."
"You don't know that."
"I know you," Love says gently. "I know you brought me to a place that matters to you. I know you set up a table so we could watch the sunset together. I know you're nervous because you care."
Milk's expression softens. "I do care. More than I expected to."
"Me too."
They sit in comfortable silence for a moment, hands linked across the table, watching the city lights begin to twinkle as the sky darkens. The garden around them is peaceful, filled with the quiet sounds of other people enjoying the evening.
"So," Love says eventually, "what's in the basket?"
"Dinner," Milk says, looking pleased with herself. "I made sandwiches."
"You made sandwiches?"
"I made very good sandwiches. Turkey and avocado with this amazing mustard I found at a farmers market. And I brought fruit and cheese and those little cookies you like."
"You remembered the cookies?"
"I remembered everything."
Love feels something warm spread through her chest. "Can I see?"
Milk uncovers the basket with the enthusiasm of someone who's proud of her work. Inside are neat packages wrapped in parchment paper, a container of fruit, a small cheese board, and a bag of the chocolate chip cookies from the bakery near Love's apartment.
"This is incredible," Love says, unwrapping one of the sandwiches. "You really did this yourself?"
"I may have called my mom for advice on the sauce situation."
Love takes a bite of the sandwich, and her eyes widen. "This is really good."
"Really?"
"Really. Your mom gave good advice."
"She'll be thrilled. She's been waiting for me to find someone worth cooking for."
"Am I worth cooking for?"
Milk's gaze grows intense. "You're worth everything."
The words hang between them, honest and vulnerable. Love feels her cheeks warm, and she takes a sip of wine to give herself a moment to process.
"That's a very romantic thing to say," she says finally.
"I'm trying to be romantic."
"You're succeeding."
"Good." Milk grins. "I have more where that came from."
"Oh no."
"Oh yes. I've been saving up compliments all week."
"That sounds dangerous."
"Very dangerous." Milk's smile is teasing. "For instance, did you know that you do this thing when you're thinking where you tilt your head slightly to the left? And that you always touch your hair when you're nervous? And that you have the most beautiful laugh I've ever heard?"
"Milk..."
"I'm not done. You're incredibly smart, and you're kind to everyone you meet, and you smell like vanilla and something else I can't identify but makes me want to stay close to you."
Love's heart is racing. "You can't say things like that."
"Why not?"
"Because it makes me want to kiss you."
"Maybe I want you to want to kiss me."
"Maybe I do."
They're leaning toward each other across the table, the space between them charged with possibility. But before either of them can close the distance, a group of teenagers walks past their corner, laughing loudly about something on one of their phones.
The moment breaks, and they both sit back, breathing slightly unsteadily.
"This is torture," Milk says.
"Good torture or bad torture?"
"The best kind of torture."
Love laughs, reaching for a piece of cheese. "Tell me something."
"What?"
"Why modeling? Really. Not the 'I fell into it' answer you gave me before."
Milk considers this, swirling her wine. "I like disappearing."
"What do you mean?"
"When I'm in front of a camera, I get to be someone else. Someone confident and mysterious and perfect. Someone who doesn't second-guess every decision or worry about saying the wrong thing."
"But you're all of those things already."
"I'm not."
"You are to me."
Milk looks at her with something soft in her expression. "You make me feel like I could be."
"You don't need to be anyone else with me."
"I'm starting to figure that out."
They eat in comfortable silence, sharing food and wine and soft conversation about everything and nothing. Love learns that Milk is afraid of butterflies but loves thunderstorms, that she wanted to be a veterinarian when she was little, that she's never been in love before but thinks she might be learning how.
"Your turn," Milk says, refilling their glasses. "Why teaching?"
"I like helping people grow," Love says simply. "There's something magical about watching a child understand something new. About being part of that moment when everything clicks."
"That's beautiful."
"It's messy and frustrating and heartbreaking sometimes. But it's also the most important thing I've ever done."
"Do you want kids of your own?"
Love pauses, surprised by the question. "Someday. Maybe. What about you?"
"I never thought about it until recently."
"What changed?"
"I met someone who makes me want to think about the future instead of just getting through the day."
Love's breath catches. "Milk."
"I know it's too soon to talk about things like that. But I can't help thinking about what it would be like to build something with you. Not just dating, but... more."
"What kind of more?"
"The kind where I know what your favorite coffee order is and you know what I look like when I first wake up. The kind where we have inside jokes and shared routines and a couch that's ours instead of mine or yours."
Love stares at her, heart pounding. "That's a lot to want from someone you've known for a few weeks."
"I know. Is it too much?"
"It's terrifying."
"But?"
"But I want it too."
The admission hangs between them like a promise. Around them, the garden is getting quieter as other visitors begin to leave, but neither of them seems ready to move.
"What time is it?" Love asks.
Milk checks her phone. "Eight-thirty. We have thirty minutes before they close."
"What do you want to do with thirty minutes?"
"I want to kiss you."
Love's heart stops. "Here?"
"Here. Now. Before I lose my nerve."
"You won't lose your nerve."
"I might. I've been thinking about it all week, and I'm starting to drive myself crazy."
Love stands up, extending her hand. "Come here."
Milk takes her hand and lets Love pull her to her feet. They're standing close now, surrounded by the scent of herbs and flowers, city lights twinkling below them.
"Are you sure?" Milk asks softly.
"I'm sure."
"I don't want to mess this up."
"You won't."
Love reaches up and touches Milk's cheek, feeling the warmth of her skin. Milk's eyes flutter closed at the contact, and Love can see the pulse jumping in her throat.
"I'm going to kiss you now," Love whispers.
"Finally," Milk breathes.
Love rises up on her toes and presses her lips to Milk's, soft and tentative at first, then deeper when Milk responds. Milk's hands come up to frame Love's face, and Love can taste wine and possibility and something that's purely Milk.
When they finally break apart, both of them are breathing unsteadily.
"That was..." Milk starts.
"Perfect," Love finishes.
"I was going to say 'worth waiting for,' but perfect works too."
Love laughs, and Milk captures the sound with another kiss, shorter but no less sweet.
"We should probably go," Love says reluctantly.
"Probably."
But neither of them moves. They stand there in the garden, holding each other, letting the moment stretch until the lights around them begin to dim.
"I don't want this to end," Milk says against Love's hair.
"It doesn't have to."
"What does that mean?"
"It means I'd like to do this again. Soon."
"How soon?"
"Tomorrow?"
Milk grins. "I was hoping you'd say that."
They pack up their picnic slowly, reluctant to leave their perfect corner of the world. The walk back to the car is quiet, hands linked, both of them lost in their own thoughts.
"Thank you," Love says as Milk starts the engine.
"For what?"
"For tonight. For choosing something beautiful and meaningful instead of trying to impress me with expensive things."
"Did I impress you?"
"You impressed me the first day I met you."
"Really?"
"Really. You sat down at my table like you belonged there, and you made me smile, and you looked at me like I was the most interesting person in the room."
"You were. You are."
The drive back to Love's apartment passes too quickly. They talk about everything and nothing, voices soft in the darkness, the intimacy of the evening carrying over into the quiet space of the car.
"I had a really good time," Love says as Milk walks her to her door.
"So did I."
"I'm glad you were brave enough to ask me out."
"I'm glad you were brave enough to say yes."
They stand outside Love's door, neither wanting to be the first to say goodbye.
"So," Milk says, "tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow," Love agrees. "What did you have in mind?"
"Something simple. Coffee? A walk? I don't want to peak too early."
"I don't think you need to worry about that."
"No?"
"No. I'm pretty sure this is just the beginning."
Milk's smile is soft and hopeful. "I really want to kiss you again."
"Then do it."
This time, when Milk kisses her, it's with the confidence of someone who knows she's wanted. Love melts into it, her hands fisting in Milk's shirt, pulling her closer.
When they break apart, both of them are breathing hard.
"I should go," Milk says, but she doesn't move.
"You should," Love agrees, not letting go of her shirt.
"I will. In a minute."
"In a minute."
They kiss again, softer this time, like they're sealing a promise. When they finally separate, Love's lips are pink and swollen, and Milk's hair is mussed from Love's fingers.
"Sweet dreams," Milk says, backing toward the stairs.
"Sweet dreams," Love replies, watching until Milk disappears around the corner.
Love lets herself into her apartment, leaning against the door with a smile she can't seem to wipe off her face. The white rose is still in her hand, and she adds it to the vase with the yellow tulips.
Her phone buzzes.
Milk: "Made it home. Still thinking about kissing you"
Love: "Good. I'm still thinking about it too"
Milk: "Tomorrow can't come soon enough"
Love: "For me either"
Milk: "Goodnight, beautiful"
Love: "Goodnight 😊"
Love falls asleep with her phone in her hand and the taste of Milk's lips on her mouth, and for the first time in her life, she dreams about a future that feels not just possible, but inevitable.
Notes:
And they kissed ! How did you enjoy the chapter ? :)
Chapter 9: The Wingwoman Squad : Post-First-Date
Chapter Text
Piploy - (Monday 7:45 AM) EMERGENCY MEETING everyone check Love's instagram NOW
Namtan - (Monday 7:46 AM) what why what happened
View - (Monday 7:47 AM) OMG THE PHOTO
Film - (Monday 7:47 AM) WHAT PHOTO
Tu - (Monday 7:48 AM) I'm looking now
Prim - (Monday 7:48 AM) OH MY GOD THEY'RE HOLDING HANDS
Piploy - (Monday 7:49 AM) not just holding hands LOOK AT THEIR FACES
Namtan - (Monday 7:50 AM) Love posted a photo of them at some rooftop garden thing and they look SO HAPPY
View - (Monday 7:51 AM) the caption just says "perfect evening ✨" with a heart emoji A HEART EMOJI
Film - (Monday 7:52 AM) Milk commented "worth waiting for 💕" I'M SCREAMING
Tu - (Monday 7:53 AM) They went on a date. An actual date.
Prim - (Monday 7:54 AM) WAIT there's more Love posted a story 20 minutes ago
Piploy - (Monday 7:55 AM) what does it say???
Prim - (Monday 7:56 AM) It's a picture of yellow tulips and a white rose in a vase with "good morning beautiful" text
Namtan - (Monday 7:57 AM) THEY'RE GIVING EACH OTHER FLOWERS
View - (Monday 7:58 AM) ok but can we talk about how GLOWY they look in that photo
Film - (Monday 7:59 AM) Love is literally glowing like she's been touched by sunlight
Tu - (Monday 8:00 AM) And Milk looks at her like she hung the moon.
Piploy - (Monday 8:01 AM) so who won the bet???
Namtan - (Monday 8:02 AM) checks notes I said one week it's been exactly 8 days since our last group chat
View - (Monday 8:03 AM) wait that's not fair the bet was on when they'd GET TOGETHER not when they'd go on a date
Prim - (Monday 8:04 AM) but they're clearly together look at that photo
Film - (Monday 8:05 AM) are they officially together though?
Tu - (Monday 8:06 AM) Does it matter? They're clearly past the "just friends" stage.
Namtan - (Monday 8:07 AM) I'm calling it I WIN pay up ladies
Piploy - (Monday 8:08 AM) fine but I want confirmation first
View - (Monday 8:09 AM) someone text them
Prim - (Monday 8:10 AM) I'm not texting them the morning after their first date that's insane
Film - (Monday 8:11 AM) I'll do it
Tu - (Monday 8:12 AM) Film, no.
Film - (Monday 8:13 AM) Film, yes already sent "morning lovebirds how was the date"
Namtan - (Monday 8:14 AM) BABE YOU DIDN'T
View - (Monday 8:15 AM) she did oh god she did
Piploy - (Monday 8:16 AM) well we're all dead now
Prim - (Monday 8:17 AM) Film they're going to know we were stalking their social media
Film - (Monday 8:18 AM) they already know we stalk their social media
Tu - (Monday 8:19 AM) Valid point.
Namtan - (Monday 8:20 AM) any responses yet?
Film - (Monday 8:21 AM) Love just sent back the blushing face emoji
View - (Monday 8:22 AM) THAT'S CONFIRMATION
Piploy - (Monday 8:23 AM) one emoji is not confirmation
Prim - (Monday 8:24 AM) it's Love confirmation she doesn't use emojis unless she's FEELING THINGS
Film - (Monday 8:25 AM) UPDATE Milk just texted "it was perfect thank you for not interfering"
Tu - (Monday 8:26 AM) "Not interfering" is rich considering we literally planned Operation MilkLove.
Namtan - (Monday 8:27 AM) WE DIDN'T INTERFERE we just... provided moral support
View - (Monday 8:28 AM) and strategic seating arrangements
Prim - (Monday 8:29 AM) and emotional reconnaissance
Film - (Monday 8:30 AM) and constant encouragement
Piploy - (Monday 8:31 AM) ok we definitely interfered
Tu - (Monday 8:32 AM) But it worked.
Namtan - (Monday 8:33 AM) EXACTLY so I win the bet
View - (Monday 8:34 AM) wait I'm looking at the photo again and Love's wearing a dress A DRESS
Prim - (Monday 8:35 AM) Love only wears dresses for important occasions
Film - (Monday 8:36 AM) and Milk did her hair
Piploy - (Monday 8:37 AM) they both got DRESSED UP for each other
Tu - (Monday 8:38 AM) That's actually adorable.
Namtan - (Monday 8:39 AM) I'm so proud of them
View - (Monday 8:40 AM) we should plan a celebration
Prim - (Monday 8:41 AM) didn't we agree the losers had to plan the celebration party?
Film - (Monday 8:42 AM) technically none of us lost yet we don't know if they're officially together
Piploy - (Monday 8:43 AM) oh please they're together look at Milk's story again
Tu - (Monday 8:44 AM) I'm checking... she posted another one
Namtan - (Monday 8:45 AM) WHAT DOES IT SAY
Tu - (Monday 8:46 AM) It's a picture of her coffee cup next to another coffee cup with "good morning coffee date" and a heart
View - (Monday 8:47 AM) THEY'RE HAVING COFFEE TOGETHER THE MORNING AFTER
Prim - (Monday 8:48 AM) that's very couple behavior
Film - (Monday 8:49 AM) I'm calling it they're together
Piploy - (Monday 8:50 AM) agreed Namtan wins
Namtan - (Monday 8:51 AM) 🎉🎉🎉 VICTORY IS MINE 🎉🎉🎉
View - (Monday 8:52 AM) fine but I want to know DETAILS
Tu - (Monday 8:53 AM) We'll have to wait for the debrief.
Prim - (Monday 8:54 AM) should we give them space to be happy?
Film - (Monday 8:55 AM) absolutely not
Piploy - (Monday 8:56 AM) we invested too much emotional energy to not get the full story
Namtan - (Monday 8:57 AM) I'm texting Milk for details
Tu - (Monday 8:58 AM) Give them at least 24 hours to process.
View - (Monday 8:59 AM) 24 hours?? I'll die
Prim - (Monday 9:00 AM) compromise 12 hours
Film - (Monday 9:01 AM) 6 hours
Piploy - (Monday 9:02 AM) 3 hours
Namtan - (Monday 9:03 AM) I'm texting now
Tu - (Monday 9:04 AM) You're all terrible friends.
View - (Monday 9:05 AM) we're INVESTED friends
Prim - (Monday 9:06 AM) we're SUCCESSFUL wingwomen
Film - (Monday 9:07 AM) we're CURIOUS wingwomen
Piploy - (Monday 9:08 AM) we're NOSY wingwomen
Namtan - (Monday 9:09 AM) we're WINNING wingwomen I told you one week
Tu - (Monday 9:10 AM) You're all ridiculous. But I'm proud of us.
View - (Monday 9:11 AM) group hug!
Prim - (Monday 9:12 AM) virtual group hug because we're all probably still in bed
Namtan - (Monday 9:15 AM) ok but seriously I'm so happy for them
Tu - (Monday 9:16 AM) They deserve this.
View - (Monday 9:17 AM) they deserve each other
Prim - (Monday 9:18 AM) in the best way possible
Film - (Monday 9:19 AM) so what's our next mission?
Piploy - (Monday 9:20 AM) making sure they don't mess this up
Namtan - (Monday 9:21 AM) they won't they're too gone for each other
Tu - (Monday 9:22 AM) Famous last words.
View - (Monday 9:23 AM) have a little faith Tu
Prim - (Monday 9:24 AM) I have faith they'll be disgustingly happy
Film - (Monday 9:25 AM) and we'll be here to witness it all
Piploy - (Monday 9:26 AM) and to say "I told you so"
Namtan - (Monday 9:27 AM) I TOLD YOU SO
Tu - (Monday 9:28 AM) You're never letting this go, are you?
Namtan - (Monday 9:29 AM) NEVER
View - (Monday 9:30 AM) ok but can we talk about how they're going to be insufferable now
Prim - (Monday 9:31 AM) in what way
Film - (Monday 9:32 AM) constant heart eyes
Piploy - (Monday 9:33 AM) finishing each other's sentences
Tu - (Monday 9:34 AM) Sharing food without asking.
Namtan - (Monday 9:35 AM) couple's Halloween costumes
View - (Monday 9:36 AM) oh god they're going to be THOSE people
Prim - (Monday 9:37 AM) I can't wait
Film - (Monday 9:38 AM) same honestly
Piploy - (Monday 9:39 AM) we did good work here squad
Tu - (Monday 9:40 AM) We did.
Namtan - (Monday 9:41 AM) to us! 🥂
View - (Monday 9:42 AM) to Operation MilkLove! 🥂
Prim - (Monday 9:43 AM) to love! 🥂
Film - (Monday 9:44 AM) to Love! 🥂
Piploy - (Monday 9:45 AM) to wingwomen everywhere! 🥂
Tu - (Monday 9:46 AM) To somehow surviving this group chat. 🥂
Namtan - (Monday 9:47 AM) mission accomplished ladies
View - (Monday 9:48 AM) mission DEFINITELY accomplished
Prim - (Monday 9:49 AM) now who wants to plan the celebration party
Film - (Monday 9:50 AM) that's losers' job
Piploy - (Monday 9:51 AM) we're all losers except Namtan
Tu - (Monday 9:52 AM) I can live with that.
Namtan - (Monday 9:53 AM) I'll help plan it I'm feeling generous
View - (Monday 9:54 AM) how generous of our winner
Prim - (Monday 9:55 AM) ok but seriously I'm so happy this worked out
Film - (Monday 9:56 AM) same they're perfect together
Piploy - (Monday 9:57 AM) we're the best wingwomen ever
Tu - (Monday 9:58 AM) We're definitely something.
Namtan - (Monday 9:59 AM) we're LEGENDARY
View - (Monday 10:00 AM) damn right we are
Chat notifications will now alert for any MilkLove updates
Notes:
My chaotic gang 😌
Chapter 10: Epilogue
Chapter Text
Six months later
The morning light filters through the curtains of Love's apartment, casting golden patterns across the bed where two figures lie tangled together. Milk's hair is spread across the pillow like dark silk, and Love's arm is draped protectively over her waist.
Love wakes first, and takes a moment to study Milk's sleeping face. Even in sleep, there's something ethereal about her, but it's softer now, more real. The sharp angles of her cheekbones are gentled by the early light, and her lips are slightly parted in the way that makes Love want to kiss her awake.
Instead, she carefully extracts herself from the bed, padding quietly to the kitchen to start the coffee. It's become their routine, Love makes coffee while Milk slowly comes back to the world, and they sit together on the couch, sharing quiet conversation and the newspaper.
"Good morning, beautiful," Milk's voice is husky with sleep as she appears in the doorway, wearing an oversized t-shirt and nothing else.
"Good morning," Love replies, turning to accept the sleepy kiss Milk presses to her lips. "Coffee's almost ready."
"You spoil me."
"I like spoiling you."
Milk wraps her arms around Love's waist from behind, resting her chin on Love's shoulder. "What time is it?"
"Seven-thirty. You have that shoot at ten."
"Mmm." Milk presses a kiss to Love's neck. "Cancel it."
"You can't cancel it. It's for that magazine cover."
"I'd rather stay here with you."
Love turns in Milk's arms, reaching up to smooth down her messy hair. "You'll be back by five. I'll make dinner."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
They settle on the couch with their coffee, Milk curled against Love's side with her legs tucked under her. The apartment is quiet except for the soft sounds of the city waking up outside.
"Read to me," Milk says, gesturing to the book on the coffee table.
"You have to get ready soon."
"Five minutes."
Love picks up the book, a collection of poetry she's been reading to Milk piece by piece, and opens to their bookmark. Milk closes her eyes, listening to Love's voice wrap around the words like a warm blanket.
"'I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,'" Love reads softly. "'I love you simply, without problems or pride.'"
"Neruda," Milk murmurs against Love's shoulder.
"Mmm."
"Read the next part."
"'I love you like this because I don't know any other way to love you.'"
Milk lifts her head, looking at Love with something soft and infinite in her eyes. "I love you like that too."
"Like what?"
"Simply. Without knowing how or when or from where. Just... completely."
Love's heart does the same fluttery thing it's been doing for six months, the same thing she suspects it will do for the rest of her life. "I love you too."
They kiss, slow and sweet, tasting like coffee and morning and the promise of coming home to each other later.
"I really do have to get ready," Milk says eventually, but she doesn't move.
"I know."
"Five more minutes."
"You said that twenty minutes ago."
"This time I mean it."
Love laughs, and Milk captures the sound with another kiss. Outside, the city continues its morning routine, but inside their small apartment, time moves differently. It moves like honey, like lazy Sunday mornings, like the space between heartbeats when you're perfectly, completely happy.
Namtan - (Monday 7:32 AM): Good morning to everyone except whoever's about to post another sickeningly sweet MilkLove update on social media
Prim - (Monday 7:33 AM): it's been six months can we retire from stalking their instagram?
View - (Monday 7:34 AM): NEVER
Film - (Monday 7:35 AM): we created this monster we must feed it
Piploy - (Monday 7:36 AM): checked this morning Milk posted a story of Love reading to her with "my favorite sound" as caption
Tu - (Monday 7:37 AM): That's actually adorable.
Namtan - (Monday 7:38 AM): I hate how happy they make me
View - (Monday 7:39 AM): they're disgustingly perfect
Prim - (Monday 7:40 AM): remember when we thought they'd never figure it out?
Film - (Monday 7:41 AM): remember when we had to MAKE them figure it out?
Piploy - (Monday 7:42 AM): best wingwomen ever
Tu - (Monday 7:43 AM): We're legendary.
Namtan - (Monday 7:44 AM): still can't believe I won that bet
View - (Monday 7:45 AM): we will never hear the end of it
Prim - (Monday 7:46 AM): worth it to see them this happy
Film - (Monday 7:47 AM): agreed
Piploy - (Monday 7:48 AM): ok but taking bets on when they get engaged
Tu - (Monday 7:49 AM): It's been six months, calm down.
Namtan - (Monday 7:50 AM): I give it a year
View - (Monday 7:51 AM): eight months
Prim - (Monday 7:52 AM): they're going to take their time they're practical
Film - (Monday 7:53 AM): two years
Piploy - (Monday 7:54 AM): I say eighteen months
Tu - (Monday 7:55 AM): I'm not betting on their engagement, that's too personal.
Namtan - (Monday 7:56 AM): Tu developing morals?
View - (Monday 7:57 AM): character development
Prim - (Monday 7:58 AM): proud of you Tu
Film - (Monday 7:59 AM): I'm still betting
Piploy - (Monday 8:00 AM): same
Tu - (Monday 8:01 AM): You're all terrible.
Namtan - (Monday 8:02 AM): we're invested
View - (Monday 8:03 AM): we're SUCCESSFUL
Prim - (Monday 8:04 AM): we're the reason they're together
Film - (Monday 8:05 AM): we're the reason they're HAPPY
Piploy - (Monday 8:06 AM): mission accomplished
Tu - (Monday 8:07 AM): Mission definitely accomplished.
Love watches Milk get ready for her shoot, marveling at the transformation. This is the part of Milk's life she's still getting used to, the way she can shift from sleepy and soft to polished and professional in the span of thirty minutes.
"You're staring," Milk says, applying mascara in the bathroom mirror.
"I'm admiring."
"There's a difference?"
"Admiring is more romantic."
Milk grins. "I like romantic."
"I know you do."
Love leans against the doorframe, watching Milk finish her makeup. Even after six months, she's still fascinated by the ritual of it, the careful precision with which Milk transforms herself.
"Are you nervous about today?" Love asks.
"A little. It's a big magazine."
"You'll be amazing."
"How do you know?"
"Because you're always amazing."
Milk turns to face her, expression soft. "I love how you see me."
"I love how you let me see you."
"All of me?"
"All of you."
Milk crosses the small space between them, reaching up to straighten Love's hair. "I have to go."
"I know."
"Will you miss me?"
"I always miss you."
"Good." Milk kisses her once, soft and lingering. "I'll text you when I'm done."
"I'll be here."
"I know."
Love walks her to the door, stealing one more kiss before Milk disappears into the hallway. She stands there for a moment, listening to the sound of Milk's heels on the stairs, then closes the door with a smile.
The apartment feels different when Milk isn't in it, quieter, less alive somehow. But it's not the desperate loneliness Love remembers from before. It's just anticipation, the sweet knowledge that soon, Milk will be back, will fill the space with her laughter and her stories and her presence.
Love's phone buzzes.
Milk: "Already missing you"
Love: "It's been two minutes"
Milk: "Two minutes too long"
Love: "You're ridiculous"
Milk: "You love my ridiculous"
Love: "I love everything about you"
Milk: "Save some sweetness for tonight"
Love: "I have plenty to spare"
Milk: "Good. I'll need it after pretending to be mysterious and alluring all day"
Love: "You don't have to pretend"
Milk: "You think I'm mysterious and alluring?"
Love: "I think you're perfect"
Milk: "You're going to make me cry and ruin my makeup"
Love: "Don't cry. Save the tears for when you see what I'm making for dinner"
Milk: " What are you making?"
Love: "It's a surprise"
Milk: "I love surprises"
Love: "I know you do"
Milk: "I have to go. The photographer is giving me looks"
Love: "Go be brilliant"
Milk: "I'll try"
Love: "You don't have to try. You just are."
Milk: "I can't wait to be back home with you"
Love sets her phone down with a smile, already planning the evening ahead. She'll stop by the farmers market on her way home from school, pick up fresh ingredients for Milk's favorite pasta dish. Maybe she'll even get more of those yellow tulips Milk loves so much.
It's funny how natural it's become, this life they've built together. Six months ago, Love couldn't have imagined sharing her space so completely, couldn't have imagined wanting to plan her evenings around someone else's schedule. But with Milk, everything feels effortless. Like puzzle pieces that were always meant to fit together.
Her phone buzzes again.
Prim: "Coffee after school?"
Love: "Tomorrow? Cooking dinner for Milk"
Prim: "You two are insufferable"
Love: "You love it"
Prim: "I do. You're happy"
Love: "I'm happy"
Prim: "Good. You deserve it"
Love: "We both do"
Prim: "Yes you do. Have fun being domestic"
Love: "I will"
And she will. Because this is what love looks like, Love realizes. Not the dramatic, all-consuming passion of movies and books, but this: quiet mornings and shared coffee, text messages throughout the day, the simple pleasure of planning dinner for someone you adore.
It's ordinary and extraordinary all at once, and Love wouldn't change a single thing about it.
Milk comes home to the smell of garlic and herbs, to soft music playing from the kitchen speaker, to Love humming as she stirs something on the stove. She stands in the doorway for a moment, just watching, her heart full of a contentment she never knew existed.
"I'm home," she calls out, setting down her bag.
"How was the shoot?" Love asks, turning to accept Milk's kiss.
"Long. Successful. The photographer was happy." Milk nuzzles into Love's neck. "But I'm happier to be here."
"Good day, then?"
"Perfect day, now that I'm home."
Love laughs, and Milk realizes this is what she's been searching for her whole life without knowing it. Not the perfect career or the perfect apartment or the perfect image. Just this: Love's laugh, the smell of dinner cooking, the knowledge that she has someone to come home to.
"Are you hungry?" Love asks.
"Starving."
"Perfect. Dinner's ready."
They eat by candlelight, sharing stories from their day, feet tangled together under the table. Milk tells Love about the photographer's ridiculous vision and the stylist's even more ridiculous shoes. Love tells Milk about Kanok's latest attempt to avoid math homework and how proud she is of Sunee's progress in reading.
"I love listening to you talk about your students," Milk says, reaching across to steal a bite of Love's dessert.
"Why?"
"Because you light up. Because you care so much. Because you're changing their lives and you don't even realize it."
"I'm just doing my job."
"You're doing so much more than that."
Love blushes, and Milk reaches over to take her hand. "I'm proud of you."
"For what?"
"For being you. For loving what you do. For being brave enough to love me."
"That wasn't brave. That was inevitable."
"Was it?"
"From the moment you sat down at my table."
Milk brings Love's hand to her lips, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles. "I love you."
"I love you too."
They clean up together, moving around each other in the small kitchen with the easy familiarity of people who've done this dance hundreds of times. Milk washes while Love dries, and they talk about everything and nothing, about weekend plans and grocery lists and whether they should get that lamp they saw at the antique store.
It's domestic and perfect and exactly what Milk never knew she wanted.
Later, they curl up on the couch with tea and a book, Love reading aloud while Milk's head rests in her lap. The apartment is quiet except for Love's voice and the soft sounds of the city outside, and Milk thinks this might be what happiness actually looks like.
"'I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,'" Love reads, her fingers tangling in Milk's hair.
"'I love you simply, without problems or pride,'" Milk continues from memory.
"'I love you like this because I don't know any other way to love you.'"
"Is that how you love me?" Milk asks, looking up at Love.
"It's exactly how I love you."
"Simply?"
"Simply. Completely. Without reservation."
Milk sits up, cupping Love's face in her hands. "I want to love you like that for the rest of my life."
"The rest of your life?"
"The rest of my life."
Love's heart stutters. "That's a long time."
"Not long enough."
"Milk..."
"I know it's too soon to talk about forever. But I can't help it. When I think about the future, you're in every picture."
Love stares at her, eyes shining. "You're in every picture of mine too."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Every single one."
They kiss, soft and sure, tasting like tea and promises and the future they're building together, one ordinary, extraordinary day at a time.
Outside, the city continues its evening routine, but inside their small apartment, time moves differently. It moves like love, like certainty, like the space between heartbeats when you know, absolutely know, that you're exactly where you're meant to be.
And in a group chat somewhere, six friends are probably placing bets on their engagement timeline, but that's a story for another day.
For now, there's just this: Love's laugh, Milk's smile, and the quiet knowledge that some love stories are worth waiting for.
Notes:
Aaaaaand the end ! 🙂 Thank you for reading !
Pages Navigation
theabsentnine on Chapter 4 Wed 16 Jul 2025 05:11AM UTC
Comment Actions
sowonp on Chapter 4 Thu 17 Jul 2025 04:27AM UTC
Comment Actions
theabsentnine on Chapter 4 Thu 17 Jul 2025 04:28AM UTC
Comment Actions
lex215 on Chapter 4 Thu 17 Jul 2025 01:34AM UTC
Comment Actions
sowonp on Chapter 4 Thu 17 Jul 2025 04:27AM UTC
Comment Actions
theabsentnine on Chapter 5 Thu 17 Jul 2025 05:11AM UTC
Comment Actions
sowonp on Chapter 5 Fri 18 Jul 2025 06:39AM UTC
Comment Actions
theabsentnine on Chapter 5 Fri 18 Jul 2025 07:57AM UTC
Comment Actions
blackpinktothepink on Chapter 6 Fri 18 Jul 2025 08:14AM UTC
Comment Actions
Ash_Ice_ML on Chapter 6 Fri 18 Jul 2025 08:49AM UTC
Comment Actions
hnnhlyy on Chapter 7 Sat 19 Jul 2025 06:28AM UTC
Comment Actions
sowonp on Chapter 7 Mon 21 Jul 2025 03:03PM UTC
Comment Actions
Mcflyyyy on Chapter 7 Sat 19 Jul 2025 06:36AM UTC
Comment Actions
sowonp on Chapter 7 Mon 21 Jul 2025 03:05PM UTC
Comment Actions
probablyasleep56 on Chapter 7 Sat 19 Jul 2025 09:05AM UTC
Comment Actions
sowonp on Chapter 7 Mon 21 Jul 2025 03:06PM UTC
Comment Actions
blackpinktothepink on Chapter 7 Sat 19 Jul 2025 02:33PM UTC
Comment Actions
sowonp on Chapter 7 Mon 21 Jul 2025 03:07PM UTC
Comment Actions
lex215 on Chapter 7 Sat 19 Jul 2025 03:45PM UTC
Comment Actions
sowonp on Chapter 7 Mon 21 Jul 2025 03:07PM UTC
Comment Actions
Ash_Ice_ML on Chapter 7 Sat 19 Jul 2025 03:48PM UTC
Comment Actions
sowonp on Chapter 7 Mon 21 Jul 2025 03:07PM UTC
Comment Actions
Aura_Winter on Chapter 7 Sat 19 Jul 2025 06:26PM UTC
Comment Actions
sowonp on Chapter 7 Mon 21 Jul 2025 03:12PM UTC
Comment Actions
Igneo464 on Chapter 8 Sun 20 Jul 2025 08:12PM UTC
Comment Actions
sowonp on Chapter 8 Mon 21 Jul 2025 03:14PM UTC
Comment Actions
Ash_Ice_ML on Chapter 8 Mon 21 Jul 2025 01:59AM UTC
Comment Actions
sowonp on Chapter 8 Mon 21 Jul 2025 03:15PM UTC
Comment Actions
hnnhlyy on Chapter 8 Mon 21 Jul 2025 02:51AM UTC
Comment Actions
sowonp on Chapter 8 Mon 21 Jul 2025 03:16PM UTC
Comment Actions
Gail2day on Chapter 8 Mon 21 Jul 2025 08:04AM UTC
Comment Actions
sowonp on Chapter 8 Mon 21 Jul 2025 03:21PM UTC
Comment Actions
blackpinktothepink on Chapter 8 Mon 21 Jul 2025 12:46PM UTC
Comment Actions
sowonp on Chapter 8 Mon 21 Jul 2025 03:21PM UTC
Comment Actions
Ash_Ice_ML on Chapter 9 Tue 22 Jul 2025 12:38AM UTC
Comment Actions
double_you on Chapter 10 Wed 23 Jul 2025 07:16PM UTC
Comment Actions
sowonp on Chapter 10 Fri 25 Jul 2025 03:11PM UTC
Last Edited Sat 26 Jul 2025 07:22AM UTC
Comment Actions
Igneo464 on Chapter 10 Wed 23 Jul 2025 07:41PM UTC
Comment Actions
sowonp on Chapter 10 Fri 25 Jul 2025 03:12PM UTC
Comment Actions
Pages Navigation