Painted

Chapter 13

The soft rustling of sheets stirred Rebecca from the light haze of sleep. Her body ached faintly, a warm reminder of the vulnerability they had shared the night before. She opened her eyes just in time to catch Sarocha’s silhouette framed by the pale light spilling through the curtains.

Sarocha paused at the door, her hand on the handle. For a moment, Rebecca thought she might look back, but instead, Sarocha slipped silently out of the room.

A pang of yearning settled in Rebecca’s chest. She let out a slow breath, her mind replaying the whispered words and the fleeting intimacy they had allowed themselves. It wasn’t just the heat of their connection—it was the tentative opening of something deeper, something neither of them seemed willing to name.

Rebecca closed her eyes, willing herself to calm the storm inside her. But as the memory of Sarocha’s touch lingered, she knew it would be impossible to let go so easily.

Sarocha crept into her shared room with the stealth of a cat, her mind preoccupied with the events of the night. She hadn’t even managed to close the door before Looknam’s voice cut through the silence.

“Well, well, well.” Looknam’s tone was honeyed with mischief. “The prodigal roommate returns. Should I be offended you didn’t bother to stick by my side last night?”

Sarocha froze, caught like a thief in the act. “You’re awake?”

Looknam sat cross-legged on her bed, her hair a tousled mess and her expression alight with glee. “Oh, I’ve been awake for hours. Waiting. Plotting. Preparing the perfect speech for this exact moment.”

Sarocha rolled her eyes and stepped further into the room, discarding the defensive posture that wouldn’t work on Looknam. “Don’t you have better things to do than stalk my movements?”

“Not when you’re practically gift-wrapping me material like this,” Looknam said, her grin widening. “So, tell me. Did you get lost on your way back from the bathroom? Or...” She gasped theatrically, clutching her chest. “Did someone steal you away for the night?”

Sarocha sighed, running a hand through her hair. “It’s way too early for this.”

“Oh, no, no, no,” Looknam said, sliding off the bed and blocking Sarocha’s path. “You don’t get to shut me down that easily. Not after I had to endure an empty bed all night. Do you even know how lonely it was? The cold? The rejection?”

Sarocha leveled a glare at her, though the corner of her mouth twitched in amusement. “You’re insufferable.”

“And you’re deflecting,” Looknam quipped. “Come on, spill. Were you with Rebecca all night?”

The silence that followed was enough to confirm Looknam’s suspicions. Her eyes widened, and then she practically cackled. “Oh, my God. You were.”

Sarocha’s cheeks flushed. “Keep your voice down,” she hissed, glancing at the door.

“Oh, relax. Everyone’s still asleep. For now, anyway,” Looknam teased. “Though with the way you two were eyeing each other yesterday, it was only a matter of time.”

Sarocha shook her head, but her lips curved into a faint smile. “It’s not like that.”

“Sure it’s not,” Looknam said, flopping back onto her bed. “But whatever it is, I’m here for it. And, for the record, you’re both terrible at being subtle.”

Sarocha snatched a pillow from the bed and hurled it at Looknam, who laughed as she ducked.

About an hour later the common dining area was alive with the gentle hum of morning. The sunlight painted warm golden streaks across the walls, and the scent of freshly brewed coffee curled through the air, mingling with the faint tang of the sea breeze.