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Chimon was, by every standard known to society, completely, undeniably perfect.
When GMMTV announced our new project, Chimon had stepped up to be my main co-star without hesitation. He held the umbrella over my head so carefully between takes that not a single raindrop touched my outfit, even though his own jacket shoulder was soaked through. He remembered how I took my matcha. He spoke gently to the crew, held my hand reassuringly before live events, and never once raised his voice or made me feel insecure.
Everyone in the fandom called us the sweetest, safest pairing. They said I had finally found a stable, comfortable screen partnership.
So why was I sitting in a dimly lit restaurant after a long day of promotional events with Chimon, feeling absolutely, completely numb?
Across the table, Chimon smiled, reaching out to gently pat my hand. "Are you feeling okay, Love? You've barely touched your food."
"I'm fine," I offered a soft, rehearsed smile. "Just tired from the shooting schedule."
He nodded understandingly, giving my fingers a gentle, sensible squeeze. It was comfortable. It was stable.
And I was suffocating.
My mind drifted, taking me back to the moment everything went wrong. Originally, Milk was supposed to be my official, permanent partner. But the moment I realized I was falling for her—truly, deeply, terrifyingly falling in love with her real-life self—I panicked. My orange-cat defenses flared up. Fearing the intensity, the vulnerability, and the potential heartbreak, I backtracked. I went straight to management and requested to be paired with Chimon instead, putting a professional wall between Milk and me before she could completely break down my guard.
Milk was never quiet. Milk was never safe. When Milk loved me, it was a sudden, violent thunderstorm that left me breathless, shaking, and utterly undone.
I remembered the high-stakes days before the partner switch—shouting at Milk in studio corridors because her intense gaze made my heart race too fast, holding back tears as she pulled me into tight, possessive hugs behind locked dressing room doors. She made me feel insane, utterly terrified—and extraordinarily, vividly alive.
Now, sitting beside a partner who treated me like delicate glass, my chest throbbed with a hollow, suffocating ache.
Chimon loves me sensible. Chimon keeps me calm.
But I miss screamin' and fightin' and kissin' in the rain.
I miss 2:00 AM and cursin' her name.
"You look like a ghost, Love."
I blinked, coming back to reality. We were in the quiet dressing room at the studio before a massive GMMTV lineup event. Chimon had just stepped out to grab me bottled water.
Standing by the doorway was Tu, leaning against the frame with her arms crossed, her sharp, perceptive eyes locking onto mine through the vanity mirror.
"I'm just exhausted, Tu," I murmured, picking up a makeup sponge.
"No, you're not exhausted," Tu said softly, walking in and sitting on the stool next to me. Her tone wasn't judgmental—it was filled with the raw honesty only a real friend could give. "You look completely detached. Chimon is sweet, Love. He's great, professional, and safe. But you asked management to switch partners because you were running away, not because you wanted him. You never looked like a ghost when you were paired with Milk."
My hands froze. The mention of Milk's name felt like a physical strike to my ribs.
"Milk and I were too intense back then," I whispered, my voice cracking slightly. "It was overwhelming."
"It was real," Tu corrected gently, laying a warm hand over mine. "You got scared because Milk made your heart stop, so you begged for Chimon to give yourself a safety net. But since you switched, you've just been going through the motions. You chose safety over your own heart, Love. And every time Chimon holds your hand on stage, I can see you wishing it was Milk."
I swallowed hard, staring at my reflection as tears pooled in my eyes. I couldn't even deny it. Tu was right.
"All artists to the main stage for the grand entrance, please!" the floor manager called out.
My heart hammered against my ribs as I stepped out into the backstage hallway. Because of our separate schedules, Milk and I had barely interacted in months.
And then I saw her.
Milk stood near the edge of the stage curtains, dressed in a sleek charcoal suit over a crisp white shirt. Her dark hair was styled back, highlighting her sharp jawline and tall frame. She looked breathtaking, mature, and painfully out of reach.
As if sensing my presence, Milk turned. Her deep brown eyes locked onto mine across the crowded hallway.
The entire room dissolved into static. Months of unexpressed regret, unspoken apologies, and buried passion rushed between us in a single second. Milk didn't smile. Her expression darkened with a heavy, intense gravity—the exact same gaze that used to make my breath catch in my throat.
She walked straight over, stopping right in front of me before Chimon could rejoin my side. Her shadow fell over me like a familiar blanket, and the scent of her perfume—woody, warm, and distinctly her—hit me like a wave.
"Hi, Love," Milk whispered, her voice low, gravelly, and laced with months of restraint.
"Hi, Milk," I managed to say, my breath hitching as her eyes searched my face.
"You look beautiful," she said softly, stepping closer than necessary. Her hand reached out, her fingers brushing slightly against my waist—a touch so light, yet burning hot against my skin. "Are you happy, Love? Truly? Is Chimon giving you the safe, quiet life you asked for?"
The question cut straight through every defense mechanism I had built. My breath hitched, my pride crumbling into dust under the weight of her gaze.
"Because if you tell me you're truly happier with him as your partner, I'll step back forever," Milk whispered, her thumb brushing the soft fabric at my waist, her chest rising and falling heavily. "But if you're not... if you miss the storm as much as I do... tell me now. Because I'm still completely yours, Love. I never stopped."
Her words hung in the air, heavy, suffocating, and terrifyingly real.
"Love! Milk! Stage doors are opening in two minutes!" a staff member shouted.
Panic—raw, unadulterated panic—surged through my veins.
"Love?" Milk's voice softened, reaching for me as I took a trembling step back.
"I... I need air," I choked out.
Without looking back, I turned on my heel and bolted out the side exit doors of the venue.
Right on cue, the dark clouds that had been hovering over Bangkok all evening finally broke. The sky opened up, pouring down a sudden, violent tropical torrent. The rain hit me instantly, soaking through my styled hair and heavy dress within seconds, chilling me to the bone.
I ran blindly toward the quiet alleyway behind the venue, stopping beside a concrete wall. I leaned against it, gasping for air, tears mixing freely with the cold rainwater streaming down my face. My knees were shaking. Months of calculated, safe choices had collapsed in a matter of seconds.
Heavy, frantic footsteps splashed through the deep puddles behind me.
"Love!"
I turned around. Milk had followed me straight into the downpour. She hadn't grabbed an umbrella; she hadn't stopped to care about her suit. Her hair was plastered against her forehead, her clothes completely drenched, but her eyes were fixed entirely on me with a desperate, unyielding focus.
"Why are you running?" Milk demanded, stepping right up to me, her voice cutting through the roaring sound of the storm. "You ran to the managers! You asked for Chimon! You pushed me away the second you realized how much you felt for me!"
"Because you terrify me, Milk!" I screamed back, my voice raw and cracking, all my bottled-up regret erupting at once. "You've always terrified me! You came into my life like a storm, you shattered all my logic, you made me feel insane! I panicked! I asked for Chimon because with him, it was safe! With him, my heart didn't feel like it was going to explode!"
"And are you satisfied with safe?!" Milk shouted, taking another step forward, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. "Are you happy playing it safe while you look at me like you're dying inside?! I would have protected you, Love! You didn't have to run to someone else!"
"I didn't want someone else!" I sobbed, slamming my palms against her wet chest, pushing her back with all the fragile strength I had left. "I tried to want the safety! Chimon is easy, Milk! Chimon doesn't make my heart stop! Chimon doesn't make me spend half my life wondering if I'm brave enough to love him back! With him, I don't feel a thing! I'm numb! But with you... with you, I'm constantly on the verge of burning to death!"
Milk stood there under my striking hands, taking every blow without flinching. Rain poured down her face, but she didn't step back.
"Then burn with me," Milk whispered, her voice suddenly dropping into a low, desperate plea that cut straight through the thunder above us. "Please, Love. Don't live in the cold just because you're scared of the fire."
My hands froze against her soaking jacket. I looked up into her face—her broad shoulders trembling slightly from the cold, her honest brown eyes overflowing with months of buried heartbreak.
"I missed you," I sobbed out, my pride finally dying once and for all right there in the downpour. "I missed you so much, Milk. Every single day. I hated how quiet my life became without you."
"Love..."
Before I could say another word, Milk moved.
Her broad, strong arms wrapped around my waist, lifting me slightly off my feet and pulling me flush against her solid frame. She slammed her mouth against mine in a kiss so sudden, so fierce, and so agonizingly passionate that my entire world went white.
It wasn't a gentle kiss. It was months of late-night regrets, bitter silence, and unspoken confessions exploding all at once. Her lips were cold from the rain, but her mouth was scalding hot, tasting of rain and pure desperation.
I gasped into the kiss, my arms flying up to tangle tightly into her wet hair, pulling her down closer. My knees completely gave out beneath me, but Milk held me effortlessly, her chest tight against mine, refusing to let me sink.
We kissed in the pouring rain, oblivious to the event inside, oblivious to our soaked clothes, oblivious to the entire world. The thunder rolled above us, but for the first time in months, the suffocating quiet inside my chest was gone.
When Milk finally pulled back, resting her forehead against mine, both of us were breathing heavily, our hot air mingling in the cool rain. Her hands cupped my face, her thumbs gently stroking my cheekbones over my wet skin.
"I'm going to management tomorrow," Milk whispered fiercely, her eyes locking onto mine with an absolute, unbreakable resolve. "I don't care about the schedules, I don't care about the partner switch, and I don't care about playing it safe. You're coming back to me. On screen and off."
I let out a wet, breathless laugh, my fingers tightening in her drenched shirt. "Chimon is still inside, Milk. He went to get me water."
"Then let's go tell him he can drink it himself," Milk said, her signature Samoyed smile breaking through the rain for the very first time—bright, dangerous, and completely mine.