Lingling sobbed uncontrollably in Orm's arms, her body shaking with every breath. It wasn't the quiet, composed tears of someone trying to hold it in, it was raw, broken, and messy. Like a child who had been holding back for too long.

Orm didn't say anything. She just held her, letting Lingling bury herself into her warmth, her fingers stroking Lingling's back in slow, soothing motions.

Minutes passed. Maybe more.

Eventually, the sobs turned into quiet sniffles, and Lingling pulled back slightly, her face damp, her usual sharpness dulled by exhaustion. Orm grabbed a tissue from the table and wiped her cheeks without a word.

Lingling let her.

Orm glanced at the untouched food. "You're not done eating."

Lingling looked like she wanted to argue, but Orm raised a brow, daring her to challenge her authority in this moment. With a reluctant sigh, Lingling let Orm feed her again.

Each bite was slow, careful. Lingling didn't complain. She just chewed, swallowed, and accepted the next spoonful.

When the food was finally finished, Orm set the container aside and reached for Lingling's wrist, her fingers brushing against the bandage.

It didn't look good.

Orm frowned. "When was the last time you changed this?"

Lingling blinked, like she had to think hard about it. "I... don't know. Maybe yesterday?"

Orm clicked her tongue in disapproval. She grabbed the first-aid kit and carefully peeled away the bandage. The wound was healing, but it needed to be cleaned.

Orm worked in silence, dabbing the area with antiseptic, ignoring the way Lingling winced slightly.

"Have you showered?" Orm asked, her voice casual.

Lingling hesitated, then muttered, "No."

Orm sighed, finishing up the bandage. "How long?"

Lingling looked away. "Two days."

Orm stared at her, unimpressed. "Ling. That's disgusting."

Lingling chuckled weakly. "What, do you want to help me or something?" she teased, but her voice was hoarse.

Orm, without missing a beat, said, "Yeah. Let's go."

Lingling froze. "Wait, what?"

Orm stood up, hands on her hips. "You're injured, you idiot. You can barely lift your arm. How the hell are you supposed to shower properly?" She crossed her arms. "Unless you want me to just leave you like this?"

Lingling stared at her, processing. Then, slowly, she exhaled.

"Fine."

Orm helped Lingling to the bathroom, moving slowly so Lingling wouldn't strain herself. When they got inside, Orm turned on the warm water, adjusting the temperature.

Lingling sat on the small bathroom stool, looking exhausted, as Orm grabbed a clean towel.

"Arms up," Orm instructed.

Lingling obeyed, letting Orm pull her loose shirt over her head, leaving her in just her undergarments. For once, there was no teasing, no flirting. Just quiet trust.

Orm helped her under the water, letting the warmth soak into Lingling's tired body.

With slow, careful hands, Orm grabbed the shampoo, lathering Lingling's hair.

Lingling closed her eyes, sighing at the gentle touch.

No one had ever bathed her before. Not like this. Not with this much care. She kept her eyes shut, allowing herself, for just this moment to feel safe.

The bathroom was quiet, save for the gentle sound of water running down Lingling's skin. Orm's fingers moved carefully through Lingling's hair, massaging shampoo into her scalp with slow, soothing circles.

Lingling sat still, her body unusually relaxed under Orm's touch. It felt... nice. Too nice. She wasn't used to being handled this way—with patience, with care.

As Orm rinsed the shampoo away, she reached for the body wash, lathering it between her hands before smoothing it over Lingling's shoulders.

That's when she felt it. A raised line across Lingling's back. Then another. And another.

Orm's fingers stilled for a second.

Lingling didn't move, didn't acknowledge it. Like she was used to people noticing, used to the silence that followed.

But Orm wasn't just anyone.

She let her fingers trail over the scars, mapping them out like reading a story written on Lingling's skin. Each one was different, some thin and faded, others thick and deep, old wounds that had never fully healed.

Orm swallowed, her chest tightening.

"Wasn't pretty, is it?" Lingling's voice was quiet, almost casual, like she was talking about the weather. But Orm could hear the weight behind it.

Orm didn't hesitate. "No."

Lingling smirked, the corner of her lips tugging up. "Thought so—"

"You're pretty."

Lingling froze. Orm's voice was steady, her hands still resting against Lingling's back. "Scars don't change that."

For a moment, Lingling didn't respond. Then, slowly, she exhaled, her shoulders dropping slightly.

Orm continued washing her, moving her fingers with even more care, as if trying to make up for every wound that had ever been left on Lingling's body.

Orm let out a small sigh as she finished buttoning up Lingling's fresh shirt. The woman had barely moved, her usual sharp gaze dulled by exhaustion.

"There," Orm muttered, adjusting the fabric carefully around Lingling's wounded side. "Now you don't smell like death."

Lingling gave her a lazy smirk, though her eyelids were heavy. "If I knew you'd take care of me like this, I would've gotten shot sooner."

Orm rolled her eyes. "Shut up and go to sleep."

She helped Lingling lie down properly, making sure the pillows were set right so she wouldn't put pressure on her wound. As Orm pulled the blanket up to Lingling's chest, she hesitated for a second.

Lingling looked... different like this. Vulnerable. Less like the arrogant, untouchable woman she always pretended to be and more like a human being—someone who, despite everything, still craved care.

Orm exhaled, sitting at the edge of the bed. "You good now?"

Lingling hummed in response, eyes fluttering shut. "Mhm. Stay a little."

Orm bit her lip. She shouldn't. But watching Lingling fight off sleep, as if afraid to close her eyes and be left alone again, made something in her chest tighten.

"...Fine. A little."

She sat there until Lingling's breathing evened out. Until her grip on consciousness slipped completely.

Only then did Orm finally stand, quietly leaving the room.

As she walked out, Alek, who had been waiting by the door, raised a brow at her. "Done playing nurse?"

"Shut up." Orm grabbed her bag, already heading toward the door. "She's asleep now. Don't let her do anything stupid."

Alek smirked but nodded. "Thanks for taking care of her."

Orm didn't answer. She just left, walking into the night.

Yet as she made her way home, she couldn't shake the feeling that she had left something behind. Or maybe... someone.