Chapter 13

Faye Malisorn's POV

The morning sun pours in through the curtains, its brightness making my headache worse.

I groan, my hand instinctively lifting to shield my eyes from the light. It takes me a moment to remember where I am, how I got here.

But then I hear a soft, steady breathing beside me. Turning my head, I find Yoko lying next to me, her body bare, a sheet pooled around her hips.

As I look at her, the memories of last night come flooding back to me, sharp and vivid. The confessions, the kisses, the passion that had ignited between us.

Even in the haze of my hangover, the scenes replay in my mind, each memory sending a pang of pleasure through me. It feels like a dream, but I know they're real.

A wide smile spreads across my face, unbidden, and I let out a silent scream of happiness, my hands punching the bed in a display of euphoric energy.

I can barely contain my excitement, my emotions swirling like a maelstrom within me.

I want to wake Yoko, to tell her how happy I feel, but I hold back. She's still asleep, her breathing soft and even, and I don't want to disturb her peace. But God, the joy inside me is so intense it feels like I might burst.

I reluctantly tear my gaze away from the sight of Yoko sleeping and gently slip from the bed, not wanting to wake her up.

My head is still throbbing, protesting the movement, but the excitement I feel overshadows the pain.

I quickly gather my clothes, which are strewn around the room, and get dressed. The smell of last night's activities lingers in the air, and I can feel my cheeks burning.

I head quietly into the kitchen to prepare some breakfast for us.

As I busy myself in the kitchen, cracking eggs and frying them, I know that there's going to have to be a conversation about what happened last night.

I need to understand what it means for us, where we stand now. But for now, I push that thought to the back of my mind.

Instead, I focus on the simple task at hand, the satisfying sizzle of the eggs in the pan. I want to savor this moment, this quiet morning, before reality and the complexities of our relationship come knocking again.

The shrill sound of my phone ringing interrupts the quiet morning. Startled, I scramble to find it in the pile of clothes I'd left on the floor.

When I finally find it, I see P'wan's name flashing on the screen. I take a deep breath and answer the call.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Faye," P'wan's cheerful voice greets me, breaking through the early morning tranquility.

I lean against the kitchen counter, trying to sound casual despite the pounding in my head. "What's up?"

P'wan doesn't seem to notice anything amiss. "Just checking in. How was your night?"

"It was..."

The memories of last night flash through my mind again, the confession, the kiss, the sight of Yoko lying in my bed. I can feel my cheeks turning red, but I force myself to focus on the present.

I know I need to apologize for what happened last night, for my drunken behavior and the worry I must have caused.

"I...I want to apologize for last night. For ruining the night and for making you guys worry."

"It's alright, maybe next time we should cut you off after a few drinks, though," she says. "Are you feeling better now?"

"Yeah, I am," I say, grateful for her understanding. "I had a pretty bad hangover this morning, but I'm feeling better now. I'm sorry again for causing trouble."

P'wan chuckles slightly. "You don't need to apologize so much. Just... try to be more careful next time, okay?"

"Thanks, P'wan," I add. "For understanding."

"We were just worried, that's all. By the way, have you seen the video?"

I raise an eyebrow, confused by her question. "Video? What video?"

"Someone from the staff sent it to the group chat," P'wan explains. "It's a video of you dancing with Ize last night. It's pretty funny actually. You should probably check it. I'll send it to you later."

"Oh God," I mutter, my cheeks heating up as I recall the drunken dance-offs from last night.

"Is it bad?" I ask, feeling a sense of dread at the thought of people seeing my drunken antics.

P'wan laughs gently. "It's not bad, just a bit embarrassing. But don't worry, I've taken care of it. I've talked to the staff member who sent the video and told them not to upload it anywhere. So it should stay on the group chat only. No one's going to see it."

"It's a good thing they didn't get any videos of you when you were completely wasted. That would have been even more embarrassing." P'wan adds with a slight chuckle.

The thought makes me wince, but I can't help but feel relieved that the only evidence of my drunken idiocy is a harmless video of me dancing with Ize.

"Thanks for handling it, P'wan. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Don't mention it. Just watch your drinking next time, okay? We don't need another incident like this," she teases, making me both embarrassed and grateful for her understanding.

After the call ends, I find myself curious about the video. Despite my fear of what it might show, I find myself opening the video that P'wan sent me.

The sight of myself on the screen is both horrifying and hilarious. My movements are uncoordinated, my eyes glazed over, and it's clear I'm drunk as a kite. It's not my finest moment, that's for sure.

"Faye?" Yoko calls from the bedroom, her voice still husky from sleep.

Hearing her voice, I slam my phone down on the counter, the video temporarily forgotten.

As I head back into the bedroom, I find Yoko sitting up in bed, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

"You're up," I say, my heart quickening at the sight of her still in my bed.

Yoko nods. As she yawns, she stretches her arms, the sheet slinking down her bare torso and reminding me of the night we shared.

My gaze involuntarily roams over her body, stirring up feelings I thought I had under control. I force my eyes up to her face, trying to keep my demeanor casual.

"Hungry?" I ask, my voice betraying none of the emotions raging inside me.

"Yes, I'm starving," she replies, pushing the sheets aside and getting up. The sight of her naked form makes my mouth go dry, my thoughts wandering to places they shouldn't.

"I-I've made you breakfast to eat," I manage to stammer out, turning away quickly to hide my reaction.

I head into the kitchen, trying to shake off the images of her naked body that burned in my mind.

I try to push away the memories of last night, the feeling of her skin against mine, the things we said and did. But they keep resurfacing, making my heart pound and my palms sweaty.

I look up to see Yoko walking towards me, now fully clothed. She's casual, almost as if the events of last night didn't occur.

The kitchen suddenly feels warmer, my heart beat quickening in my chest as she comes closer.

"Smells good," she comments, her gaze fixed on the food, sliding onto a stool by the countertop.

"Thanks," I reply, forcing myself to sound normal.

I divide the food onto plates and set one in front of her. "Just some eggs and pancakes."

I take a seat across from her, my eyes involuntarily drawn to her face, tracing the soft lines of her features. I know we need to talk about what happened last night, but somehow, I can't find the words.

We eat in silence for a few minutes, the atmosphere charged with unspoken tension. I keep stealing glances at her, watching the way she bites into her food, the way her lips curve around the fork.

I want to say something, but every time I open my mouth, the words get stuck in my throat.

Finally, Yoko breaks the silence.

"About last night..." she begins, putting her fork down and looking at me. Her expression is a mix of hesitation and curiosity, her eyes searching my face for any sign of regret.

My heart skips a beat. This is the moment I'd simultaneously dreaded and anticipated. I force myself to meet her gaze, my face neutral.

"What about it?" I ask, willing my voice to sound nonchalant.

"Are you going to act like nothing happened?" she challenges, clearly not buying my nonchalant act.

I sigh, putting down my fork and meeting her gaze directly. "No, I'm not going to act like that. I just... I don't know where to start."

Yoko nods, understanding. She's silent for a moment, seemingly gathering her thoughts.

Then she takes a deep breath and says, "How about we start with you telling me what you remember?"

"I remember everything. All of it." I reply bluntly.

"Do you regret it?" she asks. Her voice is measured, but there's a vulnerability in her eyes that tugs at my heartstrings.

"No, I don't regret it," I answer without hesitation.

A small, almost imperceptible, sigh escapes Yoko's lips. "Good, because I don't regret it either." she says, her voice softer now.

Heat rises in my cheeks. I'd hoped she wouldn't regret it, but hearing her say it aloud makes my heart clench with relief.

"So... what now?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

Yoko looks down at her hands, now folded in her lap. When she looks back up at me, there's a seriousness in her eyes that wasn't there before.

"There's something I've been wanting to say to you," she begins, her voice soft.

"I think... I think I understand now what you were trying to say before. About keeping our relationship low-key, un-labeled, because of our careers. You don't want the risk of things blowing up and affecting us professionally, right?

My heart clenches as Yoko speaks, understanding and acceptance in her eyes. She gets it. She gets me.

But it's not just that— I've changed my mind. I open my mouth to speak, the words suddenly clear in my mind.

"Yes," I begin, my voice firm. "I was afraid of that. I've thought about them a thousand times. And now, I don't care about the risks anymore. I'm willing to take that risk if it means we can be together."

Yoko looks surprised by my confession, her eyes widening slightly. But then she shakes her head, her expression serious.

"No," she says firmly. "You were right. We need to be careful. There's too much at stake. Our careers, our reputation. We can't risk it all just for... whatever this is."

I struggle with the sudden role reversal. It's as if the tables have turned—now it's her who's worried about our careers, while I'm the one willing to risk everything.

I feel a pang of frustration mixed with confusion. Why is she suddenly the one advocating for caution? I thought she'd understand, that we were on the same page.

But now it's like we're two trains heading in opposite directions, and I don't know how to reconcile our divergent visions.

"Yo," I say, my voice tinged with irritation. "You're being hypocritical. You're the one who was pushing for this. Now you're suddenly worried about our careers?"

Yoko looks a little taken aback by my tone, but she quickly regains her composure.

"I'm not being hypocritical," she retorts. "I was pushing for us because I care about you. Because I thought you felt the same way. But then you change your mind out of nowhere. How am I supposed to react?"

"Out of nowhere?" I retort, feeling my own frustration mounting. "It's not like I suddenly changed my mind for no reason. I realized that hiding who we are isn't worth it anymore. Our feelings matter more than our careers, don't they?"

Yoko's eyes are brimming with tears, her frustration and disappointment clear in her voice.

"You should have said that before," she retorts. "When you had the chance. When we first started having these conversations, that should've been the time to speak up, to tell me that you were ready to risk everything for us."

"I was trying to be responsible!" I defend myself, my voice rising. "I wanted to make sure we were thinking clearly, that we weren't letting our emotions cloud our judgment. Is that so wrong?"

"No, it's not wrong to think things through. But what's wrong is that you waited until now to change your mind. It's unfair."

Yoko's words, and the tears that now well up in her eyes, hit me like a punch to the gut.

She's right.

I should have been more open about my feelings from the start. I was the one who hesitated, who let fear hold me back. Now, it's too late.

She's already standing up, about to storm away in tears, but before she can, I reach out and catch her from behind, wrapping my arms around her. I pull her close, burying my face in her shoulder.

"Please," I whisper, my voice shaky with emotion. "Please, don’t go like this."

Yoko stiffens at first, resisting my embrace. But as I hold her tighter, she slowly begins to relax, her body sagging against mine.

"I'm sorry," I murmur into her shoulder. "You're right. I should've said something sooner. I was being a coward, I admit it. I let my fear get better of me. I want this, us. I just... I was scared."

I gently turn her to face me, my hand brushing away the tears that stain her cheeks. Her eyes are red and puffy, but she's no longer crying.

"Last night," I say quietly, looking into her eyes. "When I said I love you, I meant it. I'm not just saying it now because I'm scared to lose you. I'm saying it because I finally understand what I truly want."

Yoko's expression softens slightly, her eyes locked on mine. I can tell she's not completely thawed from her anger, but there's a hint of softening in her gaze.

"If you're not ready to take this risk, I understand. I won't force you. I'll wait. I'll wait until you're ready, until the time feels right for us. No matter how long it takes."

Yoko's expression wavers slightly, her resolve faltering for a moment. She clearly wasn't expecting me to back down so easily.

But then she steels herself, her eyes hardening once more.

"What if we never get to that point?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

My heart clenches at the thought, but I force myself to remain calm.

"I can't promise that everything will work out perfectly, but I'll still be here, waiting. If the time is right someday, I'll be right here, open to the possibility of us." I reply, my voice steady.

I see a small smile tug at the corners of Yoko's lips, her expression relaxing ever so slightly. I'm not sure if it's a genuine smile or a forced one, but I cling onto hope that it's a good sign.

Then, gently, I lean in and press a soft kiss to her forehead, lingering there for a moment. I can feel the faint warmth of her skin against my lips.

Then, slowly, I move down, pressing a soft kiss on each of her eyelids, feeling the flutter of her eyelashes against my skin.

Finally, I reach her lips, pressing a tender, lingering kiss there.