Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Luna, hurry up, honey! You don’t want to be late for your first day at the new school!" Namtan called out from the kitchen, her voice carrying a mix of excitement and nervousness. She glanced at the clock on the wall as she packed Luna’s school bag, making sure everything was neatly organized.

It had been only a few days since Namtan and her seven-year-old daughter had moved to a new town. After years of living with her parents, their sudden passing had left Namtan overwhelmed with grief. Unable to bear the memories in her childhood home, she decided to start fresh in a new town.

Luna came running down the stairs, her small hands fumbling with the buttons on her uniform. "Mama, I can’t fix this!" she huffed, frustrated.

Namtan smiled warmly and crouched down to help her daughter, straightening her shirt and fixing the misaligned buttons. “There you go, all set,” she said, planting a kiss on Luna’s forehead.

Luna grinned and quickly kissed her mother’s cheek in return. "Thanks, Mama."

“Are you ready for your first day, sweetheart?” Namtan asked gently, though she noticed Luna clutching her hand tightly. The little girl’s eyes betrayed her nervousness, but she nodded.

Hand in hand, they walked to the car and drove to the school. As they pulled up to the school gates of 'Pluto School of Education', Luna’s grip on her mother’s hand tightened.

The school’s sprawling infrastructure was intimidating, especially for a little girl who had never stepped foot in such a place. Namtan carried Luna in her arms, feeling the small body tremble against hers.

“It’s okay, Luna,” she whispered reassuringly as they walked through the hallways, colorful posters and cheerful voices surrounding them. “You’re going to make so many friends here.”

When they reached the classroom, a tall woman stood at the front, her back turned as she addressed the children. The students were chattering excitedly, their energy filling the room. Namtan set Luna down gently, but the little girl clung to her leg, unwilling to let go.

Just then, the woman turned around, her eyes scanning the room and then landing on Namtan.

Namtan froze, her breath catching in her throat. Her mind reeled as she recognized the familiar face: it was Film. Memories from just a few nights ago flashed vividly in her mind.

After settling into her new home, Namtan’s childhood friend Milk had insisted they take a break from unpacking and grab a drink at a nearby bar. They had barely taken a sip of their drinks when a pretty woman with captivating eyes approached her.

That woman was now standing right in front of her, here in Luna’s classroom.

Namtan stood frozen, staring at Film. Her mind raced, but her face betrayed nothing. Film, on the other hand, acted as if nothing had ever happened between them just a few nights ago.

“Luna, welcome to the class!” Film greeted warmly, her voice cheerful yet composed. She crouched slightly to smile at the nervous little girl, who clung to Namtan’s leg. “Come on, let’s find you a seat, okay?”

Luna hesitated but eventually nodded, letting go of her mother’s hand and walking into the classroom.

Namtan’s chest tightened as Film stood upright, catching her gaze. Their eyes locked briefly before Film smirked—a subtle yet knowing expression—and then turned back to the class.

As the door to the classroom closed behind Luna, Namtan stood there, her thoughts spinning. The laughter of children and the buzz of teachers in the background blurred into noise, giving her a pounding headache. Under her breath, she muttered, “Fuck.”

Now sitting at Milk’s small café, Namtan was trying to calm her nerves. The café, with its warm, rustic décor and the comforting aroma of coffee, was one of her favorite spots. Milk and her girlfriend, Love, were busy serving customers when Namtan walked in.

Spotting her friend, Milk handed a tray to Love and walked over. “Hey, you look like you’ve been hit by a bus,” Milk said, sitting across from Namtan and placing a steaming cup of coffee in front of her.

Namtan gave her a weak smile, cradling the mug in her hands. “You’re a lifesaver, dude. Thanks.”

Milk smirked. “So, what’s up with you? You look like you’ve seen a ghost or something.”

Namtan rolled her eyes. “Not a ghost,” she muttered, taking a sip of coffee. “But… my fling.”

Milk paused, her curiosity piqued. “Wait a second.” She leaned closer, her grin growing mischievous. “The girl from the bar? The one you met a few nights ago?”

Namtan groaned dramatically, her head dropping into her hands. “Why are you like this?”

Milk couldn’t stop the teasing smirk from spreading across her face. “Oh, come on. Where’d you run into her?”

There was a long pause. Namtan finally lifted her head, her voice low. “…She’s Luna’s class teacher.”

Milk froze for a second before bursting out laughing, drawing the attention of a few nearby customers. She clutched her stomach as tears sprang to her eyes. “No way!” she wheezed. “Out of everyone in this entire town, the one you decided to hook up with… is your daughter’s teacher? Seriously, Namtan, you are so screwed!”

Namtan glared at her friend, but even she couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped her lips. “This is not funny, Milk.”

“It’s hilarious!” Milk wiped her eyes. “So, what’s the plan? Gonna keep pretending you don’t know each other? Or are we diving headfirst into a sitcom-level disaster?”

Namtan groaned again, but this time, she couldn’t help but laugh along with her friend.

Film stood at the front of the classroom, her thoughts still lingering on the events of the morning. As the bell rang for break, the children excitedly scattered, chattering with their friends, but Film remained rooted to the spot. Her eyes landed on Luna, who had come up to her desk, clutching a small notebook. The moment their gaze met, Film’s breath caught in her throat.

The realization hit her like a punch to the gut—Luna was Namtan’s daughter.

Film had always loved working with kids. She’d spent years teaching, keeping a professional distance, never once thinking about crossing that boundary with any of her students’ parents. But here she was, standing in front of the very person she’d had a wild night with just a week ago. The woman who had walked into the bar, caught Film off guard with her charm, and left a lasting impression on her lips.

She never expected to see Namtan again, let alone in a professional capacity like this. And certainly not with her daughter.

Film felt her stomach twist. She was used to keeping things strictly professional, but the night they shared had been... different. In a way, Namtan had shattered Film’s carefully constructed boundaries.

Her friends had dared her to approach someone that night at the bar, challenging her to step out of her comfort zone. "You’ve never kissed anyone, Film? You’re such a bore," they had teased. And feeling the sting of their words, Film had reluctantly accepted the challenge, telling herself it was just for fun.

Then Namtan had walked into the bar, all confident and captivating. She was unlike the others Film had seen in the past. She had been sipping her drink, casually observing the crowd when Film had finally mustered the courage to approach. The chemistry between them was immediate, undeniable.

And now, with Luna standing in front of her, Film could still feel the lingering warmth of Namtan’s lips against hers. The memory of that kiss—the way it had sparked something inside her—was still vivid, almost too real.

But now… now, she would have to face Namtan every single day, as Luna’s teacher.

Film’s thoughts swirled, unsure of how to move forward. She had always been in control, but Namtan had thrown her off balance. She could feel the weight of the situation settling in her chest. This wasn’t just a one-time encounter. This was real life, and it was going to be messy.

She couldn’t help but wonder if she was ready for whatever was about to happen ahead.

Chapter Text

Namtan arrived at the school to pick up Luna, trying her best to avoid any direct contact with Film. The awkwardness of their last encounter still lingered in the back of her mind. She’d hoped to simply get Luna and leave without running into the woman who had turned her world upside down in just one night.

But, of course, fate had other plans.

As she stepped into the school’s lobby, her eyes immediately fell on Luna, chatting with Film near the doorway. From a distance, Namtan could see the difference in Luna’s demeanor—how nervous and anxious she had been just in the morning, now replaced with a newfound comfort. Luna looked at ease, laughing at something Film had said, her unease melted by the teacher’s calm and gentle presence.

Namtan couldn’t help but feel a slight pang of jealousy. How had Film managed to break through Luna’s walls so quickly?

Just as Namtan took another step closer, Luna spotted her mother and immediately ran over, a bright smile lighting up her face. “Mama!” she exclaimed, wrapping her arms around Namtan in a tight hug.

Namtan returned the embrace, her chest swelling with love for her daughter. But as she glanced over Luna’s shoulder, her eyes met Film’s, and the world seemed to freeze for a moment.

The air between them was thick with tension, an unspoken understanding between the two. Namtan felt her pulse quicken, the memories of their passionate kiss resurfacing. The way Film’s lips had pressed against hers, the spark that had ignited in an instant—it all came rushing back.

But Film didn’t seem to acknowledge the weight of the moment. She simply looked away, focusing on packing her things, her expression neutral.

Namtan’s heart skipped a beat. The sudden coldness from Film stung, leaving her with a strange mix of confusion and irritation. How could Film ignore her so easily? After everything that had happened between them?

Trying to shake off the frustration building in her chest, Namtan gestured for Luna to wait in the car. She watched as Film walked toward her own car, the distance between them only adding to the tension that simmered under the surface.

“Wait for me in the car, sweetheart,” Namtan called over to her daughter.

Without thinking, driven by a mixture of desire and anger, Namtan strode forward. In one swift motion, she grabbed Film’s arm, pulling her toward the nearest wall. The force of the action surprised them both, and before Film could say a word, Namtan had her pinned against the cool surface, their faces inches apart.

“This time,” Namtan whispered, her breath heavy, “I won’t let you walk away.”

Film had never been one to back down from a challenge. When Namtan pulled her toward the wall, the world seemed to slow. The air between them thickened with unspoken desire, and Film felt a rush of exhilaration course through her veins. She didn’t hesitate. In one fluid motion, she closed the distance between them, her lips crashing against Namtan’s with a force that matched the intensity of the moment.

Namtan’s breath caught in her throat as the kiss deepened, raw and desperate. Her hand pressed against the cool surface of the wall, steadying herself as she pulled Film closer, her other arm wrapping tightly around Film’s waist. The warmth of Film’s body against hers sent sparks of heat racing through her, and Namtan’s senses were overwhelmed. This was reckless, intense, but somehow, it felt right.

Film’s hands roamed freely, fingers tangled in Namtan’s hair, pulling her even closer, her breath mingling with Namtan’s as their lips moved with urgency. Namtan’s pulse quickened, her heart hammering against her chest, but she didn’t want to let go. Her hands slid down Film’s back, pressing their bodies closer as if trying to merge into one.

Namtan broke away from the kiss, her lips grazing Film’s jaw, then her ear, leaving a trail of soft  kisses down her neck. Film gasped, a shiver running through her at the touch. Namtan’s hands gripped her tighter, refusing to let her pull away, and Film could feel the raw power of their desire building. The heat between them was almost unbearable, a storm of want and desire.

“Namtan…” Film breathed, her voice ragged, but before she could say anything more, Namtan’s lips returned to hers, claiming them again in another deep, lingering kiss. The world outside the bubble they had created seemed far away, irrelevant. All that mattered was this moment, this feeling.

But just as Namtan’s hands started to wander again, they heard the sound of footsteps approaching. Reality crashed in like a cold wave. Namtan’s heart sank, and she pulled back, panting slightly as her eyes met Film’s. The moment had been stolen from them, leaving them both breathless and wanting more.

Namtan took a moment to collect herself, smoothing her hair back, her chest still rising and falling rapidly with each breath. She didn’t want to let this end, but she couldn’t let Luna see her like this—not yet, not here.

She stepped back, giving Film one last lingering look before turning to the car. Luna was waiting, her little face full of innocence, unaware of the storm that had just passed between her mother and her teacher.

As Namtan made her way to the driver’s seat, her mind was spinning, her body still tingling from the kiss.

But just before Namtan closed the door, she glanced back at Film. The words came out in a hushed whisper, her tone teasing yet full of promise. “We’re not done here,” she said, her lips curving into a sly wink.

And with that, she slipped into the car, her heart still racing, but the pull toward Film never having felt stronger.

Film stood in the parking lot for a few moments longer, her fingers grazing her swollen lips, still tasting Namtan’s kiss. She could feel her pulse pounding in her neck, the heat of the encounter still burning in her chest. Namtan had taken control, but something told her that this wasn’t the end. Oh no, far from it.

Film’s lips curled into a smirk, her thoughts already racing. Next time, she wouldn’t let Namtan lead. She’d take control. She wasn’t going to let this feeling slip away—not without a fight.

She turned away and walked to her own car, the tension in her body not easing, but intensifying. She knew this was just the beginning. And when the next encounter came, it would be her turn.

The drive back to Namtan’s new home was filled with an uneasy silence. Luna, nestled in the passenger seat, played with her phone, unaware of the storm that had just passed between her mother and her teacher. Namtan’s mind raced, her thoughts consumed by the electric moment with Film, the way it had felt to be held so close, to kiss with a hunger that left her breathless.

She shook her head, trying to clear the thoughts. Focus, Namtan. Luna's here. You can't get distracted. But the image of Film’s lips—of the heat that had burned between them—refused to leave.

By the time they arrived home, Namtan was still lost in her thoughts. She helped Luna out of the car and into the house, but as soon as they stepped inside, Luna ran off to her room, eager to start on her homework. Namtan paused, leaning against the doorframe for a moment, letting out a slow breath.

She glanced down at her phone, noticing a message from Milk.

You good? You looked like you were about to explode when you left the café.

Namtan chuckled dryly, typing back quickly. You have no idea... She paused before adding, there's a lot to fill you in about.

She stared at the message for a moment, her fingers hovering over the keyboard. She had to admit to herself—whatever happened with Film was far from over.

The idea of facing her again tomorrow at school made her stomach twist. But there was something about the way Film had kissed her, about the tension that still lingered in the air, that made Namtan realize that maybe she wasn’t ready to walk away from it all just yet.

Chapter Text

The supermarket buzzed with soft chatter, the hum of carts rolling against the tiles, and the occasional beeping of scanned items at the registers. Namtan navigated the aisles with ease, pushing the cart where Luna sat, her tiny hands gripping the edge, eyes sparkling with curiosity at the endless rows of snacks and treats.

"Mom, I want ice cream," Luna declared, tilting her head back dramatically.

Namtan shook her head, amused. "No, sweetheart. Too much sugar."

"But you love ice cream too," Luna pouted, leaning back as if the rejection physically wounded her.

Namtan laughed, ruffling her daughter’s hair. "That doesn’t mean we eat it all the time. We have to be responsible, baby."

Luna huffed, crossing her arms in exaggerated defeat. "Then I want a new toy."

Milk, walking alongside them, snorted. "She’s good at negotiating, I’ll give her that."

Namtan smirked. "She obviously gets it from me."

Milk rolled her eyes playfully before nudging Namtan. "Go grab whatever you need from the frozen aisle. I’ll keep an eye on this little ice cream thief here."

"You better. If she disappears, I’ll never hear the end of it."

Milk chuckled. "Relax. I’ve got this."

Namtan turned toward the frozen section, where a cool mist of cold air seeped from the open fridges. She shivered slightly as she walked past the rows of glass doors, scanning the selection. The bright, artificial light reflected off the metallic shelves, casting a faint glow on her skin.

Reaching out, she opened one of the freezer doors, the rush of icy air kissing her arms. Just as she was about to grab a tub of mango ice cream—her little compromise for Luna’s demands—she felt it.

A sudden grip on her wrist.

Before she could react, she was yanked back, her body colliding against the cold glass of the freezer door. The chill seeped through the fabric of her shirt, sending shivers up her spine. Her first instinct was defense—hands raised, eyes snapping shut for a fraction of a second, ready to shove whoever had grabbed her.

Then she heard the voice.

Low, teasing, velvety smooth against the her ear.

"I didn’t know you were a scaredy-cat."

Her breath hitched. The familiarity of that voice sent a jolt through her system before her eyes fluttered open, confirming what she already knew.

Film.

Standing so close that Namtan could feel her warmth despite the cold air surrounding them. That damned smirk playing on her lips, eyes locked onto Namtan like a hunter watching its prey.

Namtan swallowed, hard. She was already trapped between the freezer and Film’s frame, her body reacting before her brain could catch up. A heat spread through her chest, contradicting the ice-cold surface pressing into her back.

Film’s eyes flickered, subtly tracking the sweat forming at Namtan’s temple. A single droplet traced its way down her jawline, and Film’s gaze followed it lazily, as if utterly mesmerized by its path.

It made Namtan weak.

Her breathing became uneven, her legs felt unsteady. The cold did nothing to cool down the fire burning in her core. She wanted to push Film away, to demand what the hell she was doing—but she couldn’t move. Not when Film was looking at her like that.

Like she already knew she had won.

The air between them was thick, suffocating, charged with a tension that neither of them wanted to name.

Film lifted a hand, her fingers ghosting over Namtan’s waist, not touching but close enough that Namtan could feel the warmth radiating from them.

Then, just as quickly as she had appeared, Film pulled away.

Namtan’s breath came out in a shaky exhale. She blinked, still trying to process what had just happened, her body confused by the sudden withdrawal.

"See you again," Film murmured, her voice dripping with amusement as she turned and walked away.

Leaving Namtan standing there.

Stunned.

Frustrated.

Burning.

She didn’t even register that her grip had tightened on the freezer handle until she heard the faint creak of the door under her fingers.

Was that real? Had she imagined it?

No. Film had been there. Her scent, her warmth, the teasing way she had leaned in—it had all been real.

And now she was gone.

Namtan exhaled sharply, trying to shake off the heat lingering in her skin. Her fingers brushed over her lips instinctively, remembering the way the had kiss a few days back.

Shit.

Shaking her head, she grabbed the mango ice cream and forced herself to move. She couldn’t let Film get to her. Not like this.

Not when she was already losing control.

By the time Namtan found Milk and Luna, she had barely composed herself.

Luna, still happily sitting in the cart, clapped her hands excitedly when she saw the ice cream in Namtan’s basket. "Yay! I knew you’d get it!"

Namtan forced a smile, ruffling her daughter’s hair. "You win this time, baby."

Milk, however, wasn’t so easily fooled. She raised an eyebrow, scanning Namtan’s face with a knowing smirk.

"What?" Namtan snapped.

Milk grinned. "You look like you just saw the same old ghost. Or, should I say… a certain teacher?"

Namtan rolled her eyes, shoving the ice cream into the cart. "Shut up."

Milk’s grin widened. "Damn. Whatever happened, it got you good."

Namtan turned away, busying herself with adjusting the cart handle. "I don’t know what you’re talking about."

"Oh, come on," Milk teased, stepping closer. "You’re all flushed. And your hands are shaking a little."

Namtan clenched her jaw. "I said shut up."

Milk held up her hands in surrender, but the amusement in her eyes never faded.

Luna, oblivious to the entire situation, happily kicked her feet in the cart, hugging the tub of ice cream.

As they made their way to the checkout, Namtan couldn’t stop the way her mind drifted back to Film.

To her teasing smirk.

To the heat of her body so close.

To the way she had disappeared just as quickly as she had appeared, leaving Namtan desperate for more.

And, deep down, she knew.

This wasn’t over.

Not by a long shot.

The steady beep of scanned items barely registered in Namtan’s mind as she stood at the checkout counter, her fingers gripping the edge of the cart. She tried—desperately—to convince herself that she was imagining things.

Maybe Film wasn’t really here.

Maybe she was just tired.

Maybe the tension from earlier was messing with her head.

But if that were true, why did she feel like every nerve in her body was on high alert? Why did her skin still burn from where Film had been close to her at the freezer aisle?

She exhaled sharply, pulling herself back to reality just in time to tap her card for payment.

Then she heard it.

A soft giggle from Luna.

“Aunty Milk, I saw my teacher, Kru Film, near the vegetables!”

Namtan’s head snapped up, her pulse skipping a beat.

She could hear Milk and Luna’s small commotion beside her, but everything else around her blurred as her gaze instinctively searched for—

And then she saw her.

Film.

Standing at the vegetable aisle, casually inspecting a bundle of lettuce, as if she wasn’t slowly, methodically driving Namtan insane.

For a second, Namtan held her breath, trying to determine if Film had noticed her. Maybe she can’t see me from here.

But then Film’s eyes lifted.

Locked onto hers.

And held.

A slow, knowing smirk tugged at the corner of Film’s lips.

Namtan’s entire body went stiff.

It was impossible to ignore the way Film looked at her—not just with amusement, but with something else, something that sent a shiver down her spine. The same kind of look she had given her that night. That damned night.

Luna, oblivious to the thick tension swirling in the air, continued talking to Milk. Meanwhile, Namtan stood frozen as Film’s eyes lingered on her for a good, solid minute.

Then, deliberately, Film turned her gaze to Luna, breaking the spell.

Namtan’s breath left her in a shaky exhale.

She wasn’t imagining her. She was really here.

And she was coming closer.

Namtan’s throat went dry as Film murmured something to an older woman beside her, politely excusing herself before leaving her shopping basket behind. She walked with a relaxed confidence, each step calculated, as if she had all the time in the world.

All while never breaking eye contact with Namtan.

Namtan wanted to move. She wanted to breathe.

But she couldn’t.

“Excuse me, miss, could you move already?”

The annoyed voice behind her snapped her out of her trance. The woman in line behind her gave her an impatient glare, gesturing for her to take her shopping bags and step aside.

“Right. Sorry.” Namtan muttered, quickly grabbing her things and stepping away from the counter.

But the moment she turned, she was met with Film’s unwavering stare.

Namtan swallowed hard.

Film’s eyes dragged over her—leisurely, unhurried—before finally lowering herself into a crouch, meeting Luna’s excited expression.

Luna beamed at her teacher. “Kru Film!”

Film’s smirk softened into something gentler as she reached out, ruffling Luna’s hair. “Hey there, kiddo. Finished shopping already?”

Luna nodded enthusiastically. “Yes! We got ice cream, and I picked mango flavor!”

Film chuckled. “Good choice. That’s my favorite.”

Namtan’s fingers twitched at her side. She should be saying something, anything—but she couldn’t trust her voice.

Instead, she could only watch as Film interacted with her daughter so easily, so naturally. It unsettled her how effortlessly Film fit into this moment, how she spoke to Luna like she was someone who belonged in their world.

And the worst part?

Namtan wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

Before she could dwell on it further, Milk suddenly cleared her throat, breaking the exchange.

Film looked up at her, their eyes meeting.

Milk narrowed her gaze slightly, as if trying to place where she had seen this woman before.

“And who is this, Luna?” Film asked, amusement flickering in her tone.

Luna turned eagerly, pointing at Milk. “This is Aunty Milk!”

Film nodded, offering a polite smile as she extended her hand. “Nice to meet you, Khun Milk.”

Milk studied her for a second before shaking her hand. “Yeah… you too.”

There was something in Milk’s expression—an inkling of recognition that she couldn’t quite place—but she didn’t say anything else.

Namtan, on the other hand, felt an unfamiliar tightness in her chest.

She wasn’t sure what was bothering her more—the fact that Film was here, or the fact that she was now interacting with Milk too.

It wasn’t that she minded her best friend talking to Film.

But why did it bother her so much?

Why did she feel like Film was testing her patience, slowly pushing her buttons just to see how she’d react?

Luna, still in her own little world, suddenly turned to Namtan with wide, hopeful eyes.

“Mom, can we share ice cream with Kru Film?”

Namtan opened her mouth—to refuse, to shut this whole thing down before it got out of hand—but before she could say a word, Film spoke first.

“I would be happy to join you all,” she said smoothly.

Luna gasped excitedly. “Yay!”

Namtan’s entire body went rigid.

Milk shot her a look—one that screamed what the hell are you going to do now?

Film, meanwhile, was fully enjoying herself. Her smirk deepened as she took in Namtan’s off-guard expression, knowing exactly what she was doing.

Namtan clenched her fists at her sides, her heartbeat hammering against her ribs.

This woman—this damn woman—was pushing her limits. Testing her patience.

And Namtan knew.

She had to do something about it.

Because if she didn’t…

She might just lose control.

The sun hung lazily in the sky, casting golden rays over the small outdoor seating area. The soft chatter of passersby mixed with the occasional clinking of cutlery from the nearby café.

On the wooden bench, Luna and Milk were locked in a playful debate over who would finish their ice cream first.

“You’re cheating, Aunty Milk!” Luna whined, narrowing her eyes at her self-proclaimed opponent.

Milk smirked as she stuffed another spoonful into her mouth. “All’s fair in love and ice cream, kid.”

Luna gasped dramatically. “Mom! She’s cheating!”

Namtan chuckled at her daughter’s antics but barely paid attention. Her focus was elsewhere.

More specifically, on Film.

Seated across from her, Film was seemingly unbothered by the commotion, slowly eating her ice cream. The heat of the sun had already begun melting it, a small trail of it dripping down the side of the cone.

Film, entirely unaware of the trap being set for her, flicked her tongue out, slowly licking along the edge to keep the melting treat from spilling onto her fingers.

Namtan’s lips curled into a smirk.

Perfect opportunity.

Glancing at Milk and Luna, she noted that they were still caught up in their playful argument. Good.

She struck.

With slow, deliberate movement, she reached forward and cupped Film’s face in her hand.

Film stilled instantly, her lips pausing mid-lick. Her dark eyes snapped to Namtan, widening slightly in surprise.

Namtan didn’t say a word.

Instead, she let her thumb graze Film’s cheek, the pad of her finger pressing softly against warm skin.

Film sucked in a sharp breath.

Namtan could feel the way her jaw tensed under her touch, the way Film’s entire body went still, unsure of what was happening.

Then, in one fluid motion, Namtan’s thumb drifted lower—brushing against Film’s parted lips.

A soft gasp escaped Film before she could stop it.

The cool wetness of melted ice cream mixed with the heat of Film’s lips against her skin, sending a thrill down Film’s spine.

Maintaining eye contact, Namtan brought her thumb back to her own lips.

And tasted it.

She hummed, licking the sweet, lingering flavor off her finger.

Film visibly trembled.

She had done nothing—nothing—explicit.

No kiss. No words. Just a touch.

Yet Film was unraveling before her very eyes.

Namtan’s smirk widened. Gotcha.

But she wasn’t done.

Still holding Film’s gaze, she leaned in slightly and, without hesitation, took a bite—directly from the same spot Film had been eating.

A quiet, shaky exhale left Film’s lips.

She was stunned.

Completely, utterly thrown off balance.

Namtan took her time savoring the bite, licking her own lips when she was done, knowing exactly what kind of effect it would have.

And judging by the way Film’s eyes darkened, the slight tremor in her fingers, it was working.

She wanted her.

Badly.

Namtan leaned back, entirely satisfied with herself.

Film, on the other hand, was still frozen in place, her ice cream now forgotten, melting in her grip.

Just as Film began to snap out of it, just as she was about to counter and take back control—

Luna whined loudly, snapping both of them out of their bubble.

“Aunty Milk cheated!”

The moment shattered.

Namtan turned toward the two, laughing like nothing had just happened. Like she hadn’t just completely turned Film into a breathless mess.

Film, however, was still processing.

Her fingers twitched, her heartbeat uneven. The lingering taste of mango and vanilla still on her lips, but more than that—

The lingering feeling of Namtan’s touch.

She clenched her jaw, narrowing her eyes.

Namtan thought she had won this round.

That she had all the control.

Fine.

Film let out a quiet scoff, a smirk playing at her lips.

She’d let Namtan have her moment.

But next time?

Next time, she wouldn’t let it slip so easily.

Namtan would beg for her.

“Oh, baby, let’s go,” Namtan said, standing up and taking Luna’s small hand.

Luna grinned up at her, giving an enthusiastic wave to Film. “Bye, kru Film!”

“Bye, sweetheart,” Film murmured, still watching Namtan carefully.

Namtan bent down to pick up a bag, but just before she turned to leave—

She met Film’s gaze one last time.

And winked.

Like an open challenge.

Like she was daring Film to make the next move.

Film licked her lips, shaking her head slightly as she watched her go.

She would.

And next time, Namtan wouldn’t be laughing so easily.

Because the next move?

Would belong to her.

And no one—no one—would be able to defeat her.

Chapter Text

“Who can tell me what’s 9 into 4?” Film asked, tapping the whiteboard with her marker.

A few hands shot up in the air, small fingers wiggling with excitement.

“Yes, Muv?” she said, pointing toward the girl with glasses sitting in the second row.

“It’s 36, Tr. Film!” Muv answered confidently, her smile bright.

“Very good, Muv.” Film returned her smile with a proud nod. “You’ve been practicing, haven’t you?”

Muv beamed under the praise, while a few of her classmates let out impressed murmurs.

Film turned back to the board, scribbling the next multiplication question in her smooth handwriting.

“Alright, let’s try a new one. What’s the answer for this, 7 into 8?”

Hands flew up again, a chorus of excited “Me, me, me!” filling the room. But amidst all the enthusiasm, one child sat still, clearly trying to shrink under her desk.

Film scanned the room, noting the sea of raised hands… except for one.

Luna.

She was half-hidden behind Muv, who was a little taller than her, trying her best not to look up or catch her teacher’s attention.

Film’s eyes softened. She said, “Luna, why don’t you give us the answer?”

A hush fell over the classroom as all eyes turned toward Luna. The little girl’s ears and cheeks turned a deep shade of red. Her hands clutched her pencil case tighter, her lips pressed in a nervous line.

Film waited patiently, not unkindly just offering encouragement with her gaze.

But before Luna could even part her lips to attempt an answer—RIIIIING!

The final bell rang like a lifeline.

Luna let out a visible breath of relief. She wasn’t the only one; the whole class began to rustle with the usual end-of-day energy, zipping bags, stacking notebooks, slipping on shoes. Film gave a small sigh, stepping aside as the kids started forming a line.

Luna hastily shoved her books into her mickey mouse bag, avoiding eye contact with everyone.

Muv turned to her, leaning close. “Dummy,” she whispered playfully, “you could’ve just said 56.”

Luna shot her a glare, her face still flushed. “I knew that,” she mumbled.

Muv grinned, slinging her Spiderman backpack onto her shoulders like she was off on an adventure. “Next time, don’t stand there. It’s just math.”

Film, watching them from a distance, took a moment to observe Luna more closely. She’d noticed her shyness before, the way she’d sometimes stumble over answers even when she clearly knew them.

And the way she looked today, almost scared to be called out.

Film’s smile slowly faded, thoughtful now. She folded her arms, leaning against her desk for a second.

Most of the kids had already left for the day. The classroom was beginning to quiet down, the echoes of laughter and footsteps fading into the hallway. Luna lingered near the window, talking animatedly with her friends Prim and Sonya. Their small giggles filled the room.

Before she could step closer, the sound of hurried footsteps came thundering down the corridor.

“Luna!”

Namtan came rushing in, slightly breathless, as if she’d just finished a marathon. Her tie was barely hanging on her neck, and strands of her hair stuck to her slightly flushed cheeks. But her eyes were all for her daughter.

Luna’s face lit up like a sunrise.

“Mom!” she squealed, running straight into Namtan’s open arms.

Namtan caught her in a tight embrace, spinning her lightly before planting a kiss on her forehead.

“Sorry I’m late, baby,” she whispered, breath catching. “Traffic was insane.”

Sonya and Prim giggled, waving at Namtan. “Hi, Auntie Namtan!”

Namtan offered them a warm smile. “Hey, girls. You two behaved today, I hope?”

They both nodded with mock-serious expressions, and Namtan chuckled.

But the moment didn’t last.

Film approached, her professional demeanor returning with each step. “Miss Tipnaree.”

Namtan turned, brows lifting slightly, her eyes immediately locking with Film’s. For a second her smirk threatened to give her away, but she composed herself quickly.

She straightened, her tone neutral. “Yes, Miss Film?”

“I was wondering,” Film said, her expression unreadable, “if I could have a word with you. Just for a moment.”

Namtan’s brows drew together slightly, but she nodded and gently placed Luna down. “Go play, baby. I’ll be right there.”

Luna gave her a curious glance, but quickly got distracted again by her friends. Meanwhile, Film led Namtan near her desk, where the air seemed heavier, more serious.

Namtan leaned on one foot, arms folding casually. “So… Miss Film,” she said, a teasing lilt in her voice, “what do you need to talk to me about?”

Film didn’t take the bait. Her eyes held a quiet seriousness as she said, “It’s about Luna.”

In an instant, Namtan’s expression shifted. The teasing faded. Her posture straightened, and the mother in her took over.

“What happened?” she asked quickly, her voice laced with worry. “Is she okay? Did something happen?”

She turned instinctively to check on Luna, but Film gently reached out, her voice softer now.

“No—no, nothing like that. She’s fine.” Then she hesitated. “It’s just… I’ve noticed something.”

Namtan looked at her, waiting.

“Luna,” Film continued, “she seems scared of math lately. In the beginning, during addition and subtraction, she was always the first to raise her hand. Confident, eager. But since we started multiplication, she’s… withdrawn. I’m concerned.”

Namtan’s eyes flickered with a thousand thoughts. She looked back at her daughter, now laughing with Sonya. Then her expression faltered, as if a memory had surfaced.

She sighed, lips pressed in a faint line. “I guess… maybe she just needs some time. New topics can overwhelm her sometimes.”

Film gave a small, understanding nod, though something in her gaze suggested she wasn’t fully convinced. “Maybe. But if it’s something more if she’s feeling overwhelmed or lost I want her to know she can talk to me. We’re here to help our students, Miss Tipnaree. I just hope she doesn’t feel pressured to stay quiet.”

Namtan’s shoulders eased a little. She smiled then, genuinely. “Thank you, Miss Film. If there’s anything bothering her, I’ll make sure she knows she can trust you. I’ll talk to her tonight.”

Film returned the smile, though her eyes lingered a little longer on Namtan’s than was strictly professional.

“Alright,” she said softly. “Thank you.”

Namtan gave her a quick nod, then turned, calling out, “Luna, let’s go!”

Luna, who had found herself deep in conversation with Prim’s and Sonya’s parents, turned and lit up when she saw her mother. She jogged over quickly, her backpack bouncing with each step, a grin plastered across her face. Namtan reached her, but not before throwing one of her signature flirty smiles toward Sonya’s mother—Charlotte.

“Charlotte,” Namtan purred, eyes sparkling. “You look radiant as always. Are those new heels? Stunning.”

Charlotte chuckled, clearly flattered. “You’re sweet, Namtan. You should’ve seen me this morning—I was juggling breakfast and Sonya’s science project.”

“Oh, I’d love to see that,” Namtan teased with a wink.

Film stood a few feet away, frozen.

She watched the interaction with carefully masked irritation. Namtan’s voice—warm, effortless, and dangerously charismatic—was like a song that pulled people in, whether they meant to listen or not. But this wasn’t just about a casual conversation. It was the way Namtan leaned in, the way she smiled, the way her presence seemed to own every room she stepped into.

Film tried to remind herself: It doesn’t matter.
Namtan can flirt with whoever she wants.
I’m just her daughter’s teacher.

But her fingers clenched tightly around the strap of her bag, knuckles whitening.

With a deliberately aggressive motion, Film yanked her bag from her desk, the sudden scrape and thud echoing through the quiet room. It startled Charlotte, even made some of the kids jumped. Film didn’t look back. Her jaw set, eyes straight ahead, she walked with purpose toward the parking lot.

Namtan’s smirk grew. So she is affected.
Good.

Everyone eventually cleared out. Parents waved their goodbyes, and children filed out toward their cars. Namtan briefly thought about following Film, teasing her just a bit more. But she stopped herself there was something more important now.

Luna.

The woman who often stole her attention now faded into the background as Namtan’s priorities realigned. She was still a mother first, and no matter how enticing or infuriating Film might be, Luna was her world.

Once they were in the car, Namtan glanced at her daughter through the rearview mirror. “So, how was school today, Luna?”

Luna beamed. “It was fun! I made Prim push us on the swings during recess, and then we played hopscotch with Sonya.”

Namtan smiled softly. “Sounds like you had a great time.”

Luna nodded enthusiastically, then added with a mock-annoyed face, “Muv kept flexing again. She said she got all the multiplication answers right. Ugh.”

“Oh no, not Muv being the little genius again,” Namtan teased, trying to keep the mood light.

“She even brought her Spiderman backpack again just to show off,” Luna said, arms crossed.

Namtan laughed at her daughter’s dramatic tone. “You’re jealous of her backpack?”

“No! Of her brain,” Luna muttered.

There it was a crack in the surface. But Luna quickly recovered, shifting the topic.

“Oh, and Sonya’s mom gave me a chocolate!” she said cheerfully, holding up the now half-melted treat. “She’s really nice.”

Namtan glanced at her from the mirror again.

The memory of Film’s concern earlier rang in Namtan’s ears again.

Still, she didn’t push. Not yet.

She reached back to give Luna’s knee a gentle pat. “We’ll talk more later, hmm?”

“Okay,” Luna chirped, distracted by her chocolate.

As they drove on, Namtan’s eyes lingered on the road ahead, but her thoughts were spinning. If Luna was struggling, if she was losing confidence in a subject she once loved, it was her job to understand why. Maybe it was the teaching pace. Maybe it was pressure. Maybe…

Maybe it had nothing to do with school and more to do with the changes in their life lately.

And maybe Film was right to worry.

Namtan exhaled deeply. Dinner, she thought.
I’ll bring it up at dinner calmly, gently. And this time, I’ll get answers.

Because no matter how distracted her heart and mind might be by a certain teacher with cute dimples, Namtan knew one thing:

Luna always came first.

“Luna, baby 4 into 4 is 16,” Namtan explained patiently, circling the number neatly in Luna’s homework notebook. Her voice was calm, soothing, but carried the weight of repetition like she’d already said it more than once tonight.

They sat on the carpet, the little foldable table between them holding Luna’s math book, an eraser chewed at the end, and Namtan’s hopeful persistence.

Luna, who had been resting her head on the edge of the table with her cheeks squished against her arm, let out a dramatic groan. “Mama, please. Only this much for today, I swear. I’m so tired I want to sleep!”

Namtan chuckled softly but kept her tone encouraging. “Just one more question. Just one. Come on, it’s an easy one, okay?”

“Nooo,” Luna whined, pushing the notebook away. “I don’t wanna. I don’t get it. How can 4 and 4 make 16?! It doesn’t make sense!” she declared with the kind of absolute frustration only an 7 year old can have.

Namtan blinked. “Ah… wait uh, give mommy a second…”

She stared at the problem. Four into four. Multiply. Not four plus four. A simple concept, sure, but trying to explain it to someone who’s halfway asleep, stubborn, and dramatic? Not so simple.

Before she could say anything more, Luna stood triumphantly, her tiny fists at her hips. “Mommy doesn’t know either! You lose, mommy! I’m going to sleep now.”

She skipped—no, danced—her way toward the bedroom, her victory grin wide and smug.

“Yah! You little brat!” Namtan called after her, amused and exasperated at the same time. She sighed, collapsing onto the carpet like she had just finished climbing a mountain. Her gaze fell on the math book, still open. “Ah… Film… Only you can save me now.”

She rubbed her temples and shook her head, wondering how one child could drain every ounce of energy in her body and still be the one smiling at the end of the day.

With a soft groan, she moved on to finish her nightly chores tidying the dishes, setting aside tomorrow’s clothes, making a mental checklist for Luna’s lunchbox. Her movements were tired but full of that quiet, determined rhythm only a mother understands.

Finally, she tiptoed into the bedroom.

There she was—her little whirlwind of sass and stubbornness, curled up under the blanket, her face turned toward the door, fast asleep with the faintest trace of a smile still lingering on her lips.

Namtan’s heart melted. Her annoyance and fatigue disappeared in an instant, replaced by warmth and wonder. Phi I wish you were here.

She knelt beside the bed and brushed a few stray hairs from Luna’s forehead, then leaned in to kiss her gently.

“Goodnight, my little monster,” she whispered. “We’ll conquer the math war together... tomorrow.”

She lay down next to Luna, letting her fingers gently rest over her daughter's small hand. As sleep tugged at her eyes, Namtan smiled one last time.

And if teaching multiplication meant seeking help from the dangerously distracting Miss Film, then so be it.

“Okay kids, show me your homework,” Film announced as she walked between the rows of desks, her tone calm yet firm the way only a teacher’s voice could command a room of chattering 7-8 year old kids.

Books rustled, zippers unzipped, pencils clattered.

All around her, little hands reached into bags, pulling out neatly scribbled notebooks and half-folded assignments. Everyone was ready. Everyone… except Luna.

Luna’s heart dropped. Her fingers frantically searched her bag again, pulling out her pencil pouch, a crumpled test paper, a half-eaten candy wrapper—but no math notebook.

No, no, no... she thought in panic. Her eyes widened. That image flashed in her mind: sitting with Namtan on the carpet last night. The book… she had left it on the table.

Her throat tightened. She looked at View and Sonya, who were too busy arguing over whether the answer to the bonus question was 42 or 45. Luna swallowed hard, her hands trembling slightly as she closed her bag in defeat.

Then, footsteps.

She dared not look up, but she knew that gentle sound heels clicking on the floor, nearing her desk. Then came the voice, soft but edged with concern.

“Luna, sweetheart,” Film crouched slightly, her eyes trying to catch the girl’s gaze. “What’s the matter?”

Luna’s lower lip quivered. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Tears threatened to form at the corners of her eyes. She hated this. Hated feeling like she messed up. Like she’d let everyone down.

Just as Film was about to speak again, the classroom door burst open with a loud thud, startling everyone.

“Luna!” a voice called out a voice Luna knew .

Heads turned. Children gasped. Even Film stood up abruptly.

There, at the door, stood Namtan hair half-tied, shirt slightly wrinkled like she had sprinted out of a meet. In her hand? The infamous little blue math notebook.

Luna’s face lit up with relief. “Mama!”

Film blinked in mild shock. She hadn't expected to see Namtan like this—disheveled, slightly breathless, but unmistakably… beautiful. Even in chaos.

Namtan, only now realizing she had just barged into a live classroom, stood frozen as twenty pairs of eyes stared at her. Her lips parted in surprise. She quickly smoothed her hair and cleared her throat.

Muv raised a brow and whispered (not so quietly), “Luna, that’s your mom, right?”

“Yes,” Namtan and Luna both said at the same time, equally embarrassed.

Film, trying hard not to smirk at the awkward mother-daughter moment, broke the tension with a professional (and slightly amused) tone. “Miss Tipnaree…”

Namtan stepped in, holding out the notebook like it was an ancient treasure. “She was doing her homework last night, and I just realized she forgot it on the table. I’m sorry—I just rushed over when I remembered.”

Film walked over and took the notebook from her hand, their fingers barely brushing a touch so brief, but electric enough to make both women pause for a second too long.

“Thank you, Miss Tipnaree,” Film said, her voice returning to its neutral tone, though her eyes lingered on Namtan’s face. “I believe… you should leave now.”

Namtan gave a quick nod, clearly trying to shrink into the floor with all the attention. She turned to Luna, gave her an exaggerated thumbs up like a secret signal between them. Luna giggled, holding the book close to her chest.

The class began Film, Her eyes naturally drifted to Luna, who was staring blankly at her notebook, pencil frozen mid-air. Her little brows furrowed, lips pressing into a line, and the confusion in her eyes was impossible to miss.

She’s trying, Film thought. She just needs help.

By the time the final bell rang, Film had made up her mind. She packed her materials and waited by her desk as parents began arriving one by one to collect their children.

And then, she walked in Namtan Tipnaree.

Hair pinned up messily, work blazer hanging off one shoulder, eyes scanning the room until they landed on Film’s. Concern softened into a flicker of warmth.

"Film," Namtan said.

"Namtan," Film said at the same time.

They blinked at each other.

Luna, standing between them, tilted her head. “Why do you both talk to each other like that?”

Namtan smiled first, brushing Luna’s hair behind her ear. Then she turned to Film with a more serious expression. “Miss Film… I actually had something to talk to you about.”

“Yeah, sure,” Film nodded. “Tell me.”

Namtan hesitated for a beat, then said, “Would you consider tutoring Luna after classes? She’s been struggling, and I know I’m not… the best with numbers.”

Film’s eyes lit up. “I was actually about to suggest the same. Luna has a lot of potential she just needs more practice, and maybe a bit more confidence. I’ve been thinking about asking the principal if I can start an after-school help session for students.”

Namtan’s smile deepened. “You're thoughtful. Thank you.”

There was a long pause—neither of them moved, yet the air around them felt charged.

Then Namtan's eyes flickered around the hallway. Seeing it empty, she took a small step forward. “Can I talk to you… privately?”

Before Film could answer, Namtan took her gently but firmly by the wrist, guiding her into an empty classroom. The door clicked shut behind them.

“Wha—Namtan?” Film asked, slightly startled.

But Namtan didn’t answer. In one swift motion, she pinned Film gently against the wall, eyes locked onto hers with a hungry intensity. And then she kissed her.

Hard. Deep. Like she had waited too long.

Film’s eyes widened in shock, heart hammering in her chest as she tried to process the sudden heat crashing over her. Namtan’s lips were warm, familiar, and undeniably distracting. She was devouring her like she had something to prove. And maybe she did.

Film’s hands, caught between resistance and surrender, finally clutched Namtan’s waist. She hated how much she’d missed this woman. This feeling.

But just as her body gave in, her mind snapped back to Namtan laughing with Sonya’s mom, her flirty glances, the easy charm.

Without warning, Film bit down on Namtan’s bottom lip—hard enough to hurt, but enough to make a point.

“Ow!” Namtan pulled back, eyes wide. “What was that for?”

Film, now composed, brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and stepped away, straightening her clothes. “What was what?”

Namtan frowned. “Don’t play that innocent teacher act with me.”

Film ignored the comment, adjusting her shirt cuffs. “The tutoring session starts tomorrow. I’ll confirm it with the principal today.”

Namtan tried to step closer, but Film turned swiftly, cutting her off with a sharp look. “And Miss Tipnaree… this is a school.”

Namtan blinked. Oh, she’s playing it like that? Fine.

With a mischievous smirk forming, she leaned in ever so slightly and whispered, “Is that so? Well then, I guess I’ll be requesting more parent-teacher meetings. Frequently.”

Film didn’t respond. She simply shook her head, opened the classroom door, and walked out.

But just as she passed the threshold, she muttered over her shoulder, “You’re unbelievable.”

Namtan stood alone in the room, biting her still-stinging lip with a pleased grin. “I know.”

Namtan slid into the driver’s seat, adjusting the rearview mirror as she buckled her seatbelt. Just as she turned the key in the ignition, Luna leaned forward from the backseat, peering at her mother’s face with narrowed eyes.

“Mom… what happened to your lip?” Luna asked, her tone full of innocent curiosity.

Namtan blinked. “Huh?” She reached up to touch the spot instinctively, fingertips brushing over the slight sting on her lower lip.

A tiny mark. Her breath caught for a second as the memory flashed in her mind Film’s sudden bite, sharp and unexpected.

Ah. That bite.

Namtan cleared her throat, masking her expression into something neutral. “It’s nothing, baby. Just a… cat scratch.”

Luna tilted her head. “But we don’t have a cat.”

“Well,” Namtan replied quickly, starting the car, “maybe a wild cat. One that ran by too fast.”

She shot her daughter a playful wink through the mirror. “You know how wild they are.”

Luna looked skeptical for a second but then shrugged. “Okay…”

She missed me, Namtan thought, biting her own lip gently now with amusement. And she’s even trying to hide it.

Namtan glanced at her daughter in the rearview mirror—safe, smiling, and completely unaware of the chaos her mother’s heart was currently dancing in.

She shook her head and laughed to herself.

“Crazy cat,” she murmured under her breath, and drove on.

Chapter Text

Namtan stood with Milk near the base of the staircase that led to the classrooms. The school was quieter than usual, with only a handful of students staying back for extra classes. Milk had already sat down on the stairs, scrolling through her phone, fingers hovering over the screen as she texted Love.

Namtan, on the other hand, was growing slightly restless. She glanced at her wristwatch. Still five minutes left. She sighed and decided to take a short walk down the hallway to peek into the other classrooms. Some students sat with teachers discussing doubts, others doodled while waiting for parents. A few moms and dads were already gathered outside, chatting idly.

An elegant woman stepped through the school’s main doors tall, poised, with long black sunglasses that covered her eyes. She wore a perfectly tailored brown coat over a black tank top and high-waisted pants, and heels. 

A pair of nearby mothers, standing just a few feet away from Namtan, leaned closer together, lowering their voices but not quite enough.

“Miss Somchai,” one whispered, “isn’t that Miss View?”

The other hummed. “Yes… I heard she and her wife aren’t on good terms ever since the divorce.”

Namtan didn’t mean to eavesdrop but the sudden hush, the intensity of their whispers, and the mention of a divorce did pull her attention in. She subtly leaned against the wall, arms crossed, pretending to scroll through her phone while her ears sharpened.

“They were together for ten years,” the first woman continued. “Then suddenly—boom—split. They say her mother was the reason.”

“No way!” another joined in, her voice laced with gossip. “It’s sad, though. I mean, have you seen their son? I feel bad for the poor kid.”

“I heard both of them have already moved on,” one chimed, “but honestly… I thought they looked average together.”

“Not me,” Miss Somchai insisted. “They were striking as a couple.”

Just then, a second woman entered the school this one with bright blonde hair, dressed in a crisp white suit. She didn’t even glance at the tall woman in the coat as she passed her, their shoulders almost brushing. No greeting. No acknowledgment.

Namtan blinked. The tension between them could be felt from across the hallway.

Suddenly, the classroom door opened with a sharp creak.

Film stood there, one hand gripping the door handle, the other on her hip. The kids formed a neat line behind her.

But it was Film’s face that caught Namtan's attention it was her stern, jaw slightly tight, with a flicker of irritation in her eyes.

Then Film spoke, loud and clear, eyes darting toward the gossiping mothers:
“I’d appreciate it if y’all stopped picking your noses in other people’s business and just focused on picking up your kids.”

A brief silence fell. The mothers looked at each other, cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

Namtan had to bite her lip to keep from smirking. That’s my girl.

Behind her, Milk finally stood and stretched. She tossed her phone in her pocket and nudged Namtan playfully.

“Damn, Namtan. Isn’t that some teacher? I wish we had hot teachers like her when we were in uni.”

Namtan rolled her eyes. “Should I text Love and tell her her girlfriend is out here flirting with other moms?”

Milk held up her hands, laughing. “No, no! I was kidding! You know I’m loyal!”

Just then, Film stepped back, letting the kids exit the classroom. Luna spotted them first and broke into a grin.

“Sawadeeka, Auntie Milk!” she beamed. “Now carry my bag!”

Milk’s jaw dropped. “What?”

Namtan burst into laughter. “You deserve that.”

Grumbling, Milk lifted Luna’s tiny schoolbag like it weighed a hundred kilos. “Oh my god, is this filled with rocks?!”

“Is that… View?” Milk suddenly asked, spotting the tall woman from earlier.

The name snapped Namtan’s attention back. “You know her?”

Milk nodded. “Yeah, she’s Love’s cousin.”

Before Namtan could reply, Film’s voice rose again. “Miss Benyapa. Miss Wanwimol. Please come in and have a seat.”

Namtan looked towards the door where Film now stood with the two women, Namtan now realized they must be Joy’s mothers. Film leaned down to speak to the small boy by their side. He looked Luna’s age.

Milk leaned in again and smirked. “Ohhh... I see, You know what me and Luna will wait in the car.”

Luna clutched her mom’s hand and looked between them, confused. “Huh?”

Milk winked at Namtan. “Come on, kiddo. Let’s race to the car!”

Luna instantly forgot everything else and took off running.

Namtan was left blinking as Milk and Luna disappeared down the hallway. “Yeah… okay,” she muttered, still caught off guard.

She turned back toward the now-empty corridor, the only sound the low murmur of conversation inside the classroom. Curiosity tugged at her.

Namtan inched closer to the door, her back against the wall beside it. She wasn’t going to interrupt… not yet.

But she had a feeling there was more to this story than anyone was letting on.

Inside the quiet classroom, the atmosphere was tight with unspoken tension.

The blonde woman June spoke first, concern flickering in her eyes. “What happened?”

Across from her, View sat with quiet composure, patient but visibly on guard. She glanced at Film, waiting for her to speak first.

Film folded her hands on the table, her fingers interlocked. Her expression shifted serious and professional. Her tone softened, but carried weight.

“I called you both here to talk about Joy,” Film said steadily.

At once, View leaned forward, her chair scraping softly against the tiled floor. “Is he okay? Did he get into another fight?”

Film blinked slowly, trying to keep her tone even. “No, nothing like that. He hasn’t caused any trouble.”

June frowned. “Then what’s the issue?”

Film exhaled and looked between them. “That’s exactly it. For the past month, Joy has barely said a word in class. He sits quietly. Withdrawn. During playtime, during classes, even during lunch he's there but not present.”

While at the doorway Namtan stood quietly.

Except… she wasn’t exactly alone.

At her side stood a small figure, his tiny fingers wrapped around the hem of Namtan’s sleeve. It was Joy. "Did Kru Film also call you?".

Namtan leaned down quickly, her voice a soft whisper. “Shh… kru. Film didn’t call me, keep you voice low, okay?”

Joy giggled, whispering back, “Auntie, do you want chocolate?”

Namtan’s eyes softened as the boy pulled out a small milk chocolate bar from his backpack, slowly unwrapping it with his small fingers.

“No baby,” Namtan chuckled, placing her palm against his cheek. “You keep it.”

Joy broke a piece and held it up. “You have to take one now,” he grinned.

Namtan gave in. “Okay, but only if you keep quiet.”

Joy giggled, holding a finger up to his lips.

Back in the classroom June and View exchanged a brief glance, already uneasy.

“I’ve mentioned this before,” Film continued. “Even during previous interactions.”

“I don’t get it,” they both said, nearly at the same time, eyes avoiding each other entirely.

Film’s expression dropped. She leaned in slightly.

“And this is exactly what I’m talking about.”

Both women looked up, startled.

“I know you’ve moved on. I’m happy for you genuinely,” Film said, her voice dipping with sincerity. “Not just as a teacher. But as someone who once cared about both of you as friends. But right now, I’m not speaking from that place. I’m speaking as Joy’s teacher his guide at the moment. And I have to speak when I see a child being emotionally affected.”

View looked down. June clenched her jaw.

“I’m not here to judge your personal lives,” Film said gently. “But pretending like the other person doesn’t exist even in front of your son that silence is louder than any argument. I’m not asking you to erase or repair anything. Just show him that what came before was still real. That it mattered. That both of you can coexist not as lovers, not even as friends if that’s too much but as parents. He needs that, I’m just asking for the sake of Joy… acknowledge the past you both once shared. Show him that mutual respect is possible.”

The room fell silent.

“You may not notice it,” she added, “but he does. Every word unsaid, every look avoided it reaches him.”

View’s face cracked with guilt. She glanced at June, and for the first time, their eyes met not in resentment, but with the glimmer of understanding. June gave a soft nod.

Film saw it. The shift. And she smiled.

“Joy is smart. He understands more than he lets on. He’s accepted the reality you two have created. Don’t make him carry the weight of your silence too.”

June looked down. “You’re right. We didn’t realize it was affecting him this much.”

Film’s voice warmed. “Honestly, Joy is lucky. View, he lights up when Mim drops him off in the morning. And June, Joy and Meawnich always have little secrets, he talks about both your wives all the time. You’ve created a family around him. Let him see that it’s okay.”

There was a long, thoughtful silence.

View finally looked up, eyes brushing against June’s for the briefest second. June met it hesitant, but with understanding. There was an apology in their shared glance. A shared pain. And maybe, a silent agreement.

Film leaned back, watching the shift happen between them. Her smile widened a little, relieved. “Thank you for hearing me out.”

Both women nodded, humbled. “Thank you, Film,” they said in unison.

“Well see you this weekend View,” Film smiled at View as she stood, a glimmer of relief washing over her.

Just then, a small commotion came from the hallway. Film raised an eyebrow as a small voice drifted in.

All three adults turned toward the door. And there stood Joy, gently tugging at someone’s hand.

Namtan.

She froze as all eyes fell on her.

Her expression was guilty, like a thief caught in the middle of the act. She had a finger pressed to her lips, whispering, “Joy! Shhh—”

But it was too late.

“Miss Tipnaree,” Film said slowly, arching an eyebrow. Her tone held mock severity. “Eavesdropping is very unappreciable for a parent like you.”

Namtan gave a sheepish smile. “I wasn’t—I mean, I was just… passing by?”

Film crossed her arms, amused but trying not to laugh. View and June chuckled behind her, their mood already lightened.

Then, mercifully, Milk’s call came through.

Namtan jumped at the opportunity. “Sorry! Got a call. Super important. Bye!” she blurted, flashing her phone screen like a lifeline and dashing off down the hallway.

Film shook her head slowly, laughing under her breath. That woman.

Behind her, June and View had knelt down to Joy’s level. They both held one of his hands, their heads gently bowed.

“Shall we go home, little Prince?” View asked softly.

Joy’s eyes sparkled. “Yes!”

But before they could leave, Joy paused. He let go of their hands and walked back to Film. He tilted his head and lifted his palm toward her face.

Confused but smiling, Film crouched down to meet him.

Joy leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek. “Thank you. You’re the best,” he whispered.

Film’s heart clenched. Her throat tightened.

She watched him return to his mothers, walking hand in hand with them as he cheerfully began telling them about his day.

Film stood there for a moment, stunned by the weight of that tiny gesture.

She moved toward the window and watched as they got into their car. From above, she could see Namtan’s car too its door now flung open as Namtan climbed inside, still catching her breath.

“I’m here!” Namtan called out, exasperated.

Film laughed quietly to herself.

Why is it always her? 

She shook her head and went back to gathering her things, a small, warm smile still tugging at her lips.

Milk was bored and what used to be her phone now firmly was in Luna’s tiny grip, as the little girl played a racing game in the backseat. The car door clicked shut, and Namtan finally sank into the driver’s seat, a sigh escaping her lips.

“How long does it take to say ‘hi’ and ‘bye’? It’s been a whole hour!” Milk teased, buckling her seatbelt. “You were supposed to be gone for, what a minute or two?”

Namtan gave a sheepish look as she started the car. “Hey, hey I got into something, okay?”

Milk raised an eyebrow, grinning. “Did you? How deep was it?”

Namtan narrowed her eyes and glared at her friend through the rearview mirror. “You really want me to leave you stranded next time, huh?”

Before Milk could clap back, Luna’s voice rang from the backseat. “Mama, look! I beat Auntie Milk’s high score! Told ya I’m the queen of racing!” She held up the phone triumphantly.

Milk scoffed. “You only won because I let you win, you little cheat.”

“Yea, yea. Loser, loser,” Luna sang, sticking her tongue out playfully.

Namtan couldn’t help but laugh. The warm energy filling the car. As she turned the wheel to exit the school driveway, she said, “You two fight like babies.”

“That’s because she is one,” Milk muttered.

“Well!” Milk continued with a sly smirk, “I called because Love wants me to meet her family this weekend.”

“Oh, that’s sweet.” Namtan turned the wheel at a red light. “I hope her family knows their daughter wants to marry someone who doesn’t even know how to hold herself or hold her tongue.”

Milk rolled her eyes. “Oh, shut up. That’s not even the point. Love told me to bring you too.”

“What?” Namtan slammed the brakes instinctively, causing the car to lurch.

Milk jerked forward but was caught by the seatbelt. Luna gave a yelp of protest from the back. “Moooom! Let me drive I am a way better then you!”

Behind them, a horn blared, followed by a string of curses from an irritated drivers. Namtan quickly moved the car forward, face burning with embarrassment, trying not to meet anyone’s eyes.

Milk, wheezing from laughter, held her stomach. “You looked like I inviting you to meet Film’s parents!”

“That’s not the point,” Namtan hissed. “I am not going to join you or meet Love’s entire family. Hell. No.”

“But whyyyy?” Milk whined. “It’s not like I’m asking you to get married. It’s just dinner. A small get-together. Maybe a discussion for the wedding. There’ll be food. Luna likes Love. Right, kiddo?”

Luna, who was now busy kicking her legs in the air, nodded enthusiastically. “Auntie Lav is sooooo pretty. She gives me chocolates.”

Milk gasped in fake offense. “Wow. You’re bought so easily.”

Namtan sighed, pulling into the highway, mentally counting how many exits she could take to ditch this conversation. “Fine. But only because I don’t want Love’s parents to think you’re some lonely stray.”

“Aw,” Milk said, wiping away a fake tear. “You really do love me.”

“Sit properly, young lady,” Namtan snapped at Luna, hiding her smile.

Luna squealed and sat upright. “Yes, ma’am!”

“Mission accomplished!” Milk declared, turning back to Luna for a high-five. Their palms slapped together in a triumphant gesture.

Namtan just shook her head, Whatever was waiting for her at that family meet, she’d deal with it when it came.

Let's just wait for the weekend now.

Chapter Text

“Luna, what are you doing? Get ready fast!” Namtan called out from the mirror, trying to tie her tie with one hand while checking the clock with the other. Her fingers fumbled, the knot turning into a mess.

Luna was sitting cross-legged on the dining table with a  Homework book in front of her and a pencil in her mouth, glanced up. “Mama,” she said, tugging the pencil out, “fifteen plus fifteen is thirty, right?”

“Yes, baby,” Namtan answered absentmindedly, eyes fixed on the knot that refused to cooperate.

“Then why did Tr. Film say sixteen plus sixteen is also thirty?”

Namtan froze her hands mid-air, fingers still tangled in her tie. Her brain seemed to short-circuit as she tried to comprehend the question. The math wasn’t mathing. “Wait, what?” she mumbled.

Luna waited patiently, swinging her legs. When her mother didn’t answer, she slid off the table, dragging a chair across the floor with a loud screech. She positioned it behind Namtan and climbed up, her tiny hands resting on her Namtan’s waist for balance.

“Mama,” she said gently, tapping Namtan’s shoulder. “Turn.”

Still trying to process the math question that made no logical sense, Namtan turned. Luna, with the seriousness of a professional tailor, took the tie in her small hands and began looping it with careful precision.

Namtan blinked. “Are you… tying my tie?”

Luna didn’t reply. Her tongue peeked out slightly in concentration as she tightened the knot perfectly, then her hands lifting in the air like a magician finishing a trick. “Done.”

With a proud little gesture, she pointed her finger to the mirror. “Now turn.”

Namtan did as told.

There in the mirror stood her reflection the tie imperfectly knotted and behind her, her little girl standing tall on a chair, their heads almost touching.

“Mama,” Luna said, resting her chin on Namtan’s hair and wrapping her arms around her neck. “Because Tr. Film said thirty and too.”

Namtan couldn’t hold back the chuckle that bubbled in her throat. She tilted her head slightly so their cheeks touched and smiled. “So you still remember how Mai taught you to tie my tie?”

Luna nodded proudly, squeezing her arms tighter around Namtan’s neck.

Namtan turned slightly to glance up at her daughter. “You’re too smart for your own good, you know that?”

Luna nodded proudly resting her chin on top of her head.

“Careful,” Namtan warned, laughing. “Come on, my little monster, let’s get you changed.”

Luna pleaded, “Mumma, just one ride first? Pleaseee?”

Namtan raised an eyebrow, giving in as she sighed, “Fine. One quick ride.”

And off they went running through the house in circles, Namtan carrying Luna on her back like a jet plane, making zooming noises as Luna squealed with joy.

Finally breathless, they reached the bedroom. Namtan gently placed Luna on the bed and pulled out a beautiful yellow dress, helping her into it and twirling her around like a little princess.

“One more, mommy! Please!” Luna begged with her arms wide again.

“Later,” Namtan said with a dramatic groan, her back starting to ache. “You’re getting heavier, and I am definitely getting older.”

A loud honk came from outside.

“Auntie Milk!” Luna screamed, running to the balcony. She waved both hands excitedly.

Namtan followed quickly, nervous. “Luna, careful! You’ll fall off that rail one day!”

They both hurried downstairs, where Milk’s car was parked in front of the gate. Inside, Milk’s parents were already seated comfortably in the back seat, chatting.

“Swadeeka,” Namtan greeted, bowing politely.

Milk’s mother smiled warmly and gestured to Luna. “Come, Luna. Sit with grandma and grandpa.”

“Yesss!” Luna jumped into the backseat without hesitation, already chatting their ears off.

Namtan, on the other hand, she stared at the passenger seat with horror.

It was completely filled with boxes, bags, and a giant bouquet of flowers.

She turned to Milk, raising her eyebrow. “So where exactly am I supposed to sit? In the trunk?”

Milk, casually settling into the driver’s seat with her sunglasses on, replied coolly, “Suit yourself. Either carry this royal palace of boxes on your lap, or settle into the trunk which, by the way, has even more stuff waiting for you.”

Namtan shot her a deadpan look. “I’m reporting you to Love. This is mistreatment.”

Milk snorted. “She already knows and would be happy. Now move.”

Muttering under her breath, Namtan somehow managed to squeeze into the passenger seat. She cradled the giant bouquet in one arm, balanced a box on her lap, and held two bags at her feet like she was guarding treasure.

“This better be a five-star dinner,” she grumbled.

Milk pulled on her sunglasses like she was driving to Cannes. “It’s Love’s family. That means a seven-star performance. Now smile for the in-laws.”

“Ugh,” Namtan groaned. “Remind me again why I agreed to this?”

“Because,” Milk said sweetly, “you love me.”

“Luna loves you,” Namtan corrected.

“Same difference.”

As the car rolled away from the driveway, Luna leaned forward from the backseat, squeezing between her grandparents to peek through the gap. “Mommy, you look like a flower shop.”

Namtan groaned louder. “Not helping, Luna!”

Milk laughed, turning the music up just slightly.

They finally reached Love’s house, a warm and welcoming home nestled behind a garden blooming with vibrant flowers. As the car rolled to a stop, Milk’s parents stepped out, straightening their clothes and patting their hair into place with the poise of long-practiced politeness. Milk, on the other hand, rushed to the back, opening the trunk and beginning to unload gifts in nervousness. Namtan was right behind her, helping with the boxes, while Luna followed along, carefully tiptoeing past the flowerbeds in her shiny shoes.

Milk called over a few house helpers to carry the larger boxes, and Namtan, adjusting the stack in her arms, bent to Luna and whispered, “Baby, remember what I told you, okay? Be polite. Greet the elders nicely. Bow properly. Got it?”

Luna saluted with her little fingers to her forehead. “Yes, ma’am!”

Milk suddenly turned, placing both hands on Namtan’s shoulders. Her eyes were dead serious. Namtan raised an eyebrow. “Why do you look like you’re about to confess to a crime?”

Milk inhaled sharply. “Namtan… my friend. My sister. My chosen family. Listen to me.”

Namtan blinked, suddenly concerned. “Okay… You’re scaring me now.”

Milk’s grip tightened. “You are my Thao Gae.”

“What?!” Namtan exclaimed.

“You heard me,” Milk said dramatically. “You are going to formally ask Love’s father for her hand in marriage.”

Namtan nearly dropped the box. “What now?! Since when was I the one proposing?!”

Milk sighed in relief, ignoring her protest. “Just say yes, please.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Namtan said dryly, shaking her head as Milk clutched her chest with exaggerated emotion.

Then Namtan softened, resting a hand on Milk’s. “Hey, calm down. I’m here, okay? I’ve always been here. And I’m not going anywhere.”

“Also me,” came Luna’s sweet voice from below.

Milk laughed, scooping up Luna. “Also me, kiddo.”

Milk’s father called out, “We should head in.”

Milk nodded, finally letting out a huge breath and stepping forward only to be yanked back by Namtan.

“Where do you think you’re going, huh?” Namtan said. “Stand right here.”

Luna ran forward and hugged Milk tightly around the waist. “Caught you, Auntie Milk!”

Milk blinked. “What are you two doing?”

“Stretch your arms out,” Namtan said, already removing her coat.

“Why?”

“Just do it. Or should I let your little accomplice dress you instead?”

Luna giggled mischievously, and Milk gave in. She stretched her arms, and Namtan wrapped the coat around her shoulders, fixing the collar with a nod of approval.

“There. Now you look handsome,” Namtan said proudly.

Luna clapped. “Auntie Milk looks pur...pur!”

Namtan smirked. “Baby, it's perfect.”

Milk’s cheeks turned a light shade of pink, but she smiled at the support from her little team.

“Alright,” Milk said, taking a steadying breath and grabbing a few boxes. “Let’s do this.”

She handed a towering pile of gifts to Namtan, so tall that it practically blocked her view.

Namtan gasped. “This wasn’t in the deal! I’m your wingman, not your delivery girl.

“Love, stop moving!” Film commanded, holding the eyeliner steady in one hand and gripping Love’s chin with the other. “If you move even a inch, I swear I’ll throw you out this window. Forget marrying your girlfriend, no one’s gonna want you with a black eye and eyeliner running down your face.”

Love, nervously blinking with one eye half-closed, whimpered, “I’m not moving! I promise!”

From the bed, Bonnie was scrolling through her phone and mumbled, “Yeah, P’Love, keep moving and we’ll send you off with broken arms and eyeliner wings pointing in different directions.”

Film whipped her head toward her. “Excuse me, Miss, you’re supposed to be helping me.”

Bonnie smirked. “Come on, P’Film. You’ve got this covered.”

“Then go help View and White Rose with the guest. They may arrive in any moment now.”

With a dramatic groan, Bonnie rolled off the bed just as White Rose entered the room, her expression calm but urgent. “Film Honey, is Love ready?”

Film didn’t even look up. “Why not ask your sister yourself?”

Rose stepped inside, only to pause her eyes falling on Love, who stood tall in a stunning white dress, radiant yet visibly nervous.

White Rose’s expression softened, emotions catching in her throat. “I can’t believe you’ve grown up so much... You’re really getting married.”

Love immediately walked up and hugged her sister. “Phi, don’t cry. I’m not going anywhere... at least not that soon.”

From the corner, Bonnie teased, “Yeah, not like you chose to elope. I’m just happy I finally get my own room now.”

Love glared. “Bonnie.”

Bonnie yelped and ducked behind Film. “Just saying!”

Muv peeked in through the door and tiptoed in. “Mumma... they’re here.”

White Rose’s composure snapped back into place. “N'Bonnie, take Love downstairs in five. Film, can you help me with the guests?”

Film nodded as she followed White Rose and Muv down the hallway.

Outside the house, Milk stood at the doorstep, clutching a bouquet of flowers tightly, while she barely contained her nervous smile. Her parents stood beside her, encouraging their daughter. Behind her trailed Namtan, whose arms were  full of gift boxes which could fall any moment, she grumbled under her breath as Luna skipped beside her.

“Mai, Pho,” Milk said softly, turning to her parents, “these are Love’s parents. And that’s her older sister, White Rose.”

Rose bowed graciously. “Swadeeka,” she greeted, a welcoming smile on her face.

Love’s parents smiled back and gestured inside. “Please come in.”

From near the entrance, Film stood quietly, scanning the new arrivals. Her eyes landed on Milk, and her face lit up with a small smile. Milk returned the smile with a nod, visibly surprised but grateful to see a familiar face. She stepped in, and soon, the hallway buzzed with greetings.

Rose leaned toward Film. “Can you help carry the remaining gifts inside?”

“Sure Phi,” Film said, already stepping out.

She spotted someone buried behind a mountain of gift boxes, only the top of their head and a pair of shoes visible.

“I’ll help you with that,” Film offered casually, reaching for the top box.

But as soon as the pile decreased, revealing the person behind them—

Film froze.

“YOU!” she screamed.

Namtan’s eyes widened, and in panic, she let out a half-yelp, as she somehow managed to balance the remaining boxes in one hand. Her other hand flew up to cover Film’s mouth, muffling her voice. “Will you stop screaming?!”

Film narrowed her eyes and, in one swift motion, bit her fingers.

“OWW! You bit me?!” Namtan hissed, dropping her hand as she shook it in disbelief.

Film folded her arms. “I didn’t know you delivered gifts now. Should I leave a tip?”

Namtan scoffed. “Excuse me, I’m here for my friend.”

Film rolled her eyes. “Oh please. You followed me here.”

Namtan matched her stride as they walked toward the house. “Followed you? You bit me and then insulted me. Who’s causing the scene here?”

“I’m trying to avoid a scene.”

“You are the scene,” Namtan shot back with a smirk.

Film turned sharply toward her, exasperated. “Can you not ruin the day by making this about you?”

“Sweetheart,” Namtan whispered smugly, “I am the supporting character. I  support the to-be-bride. I kissed a hot teacher. You’re lucky I haven’t made it about me... yet.”

Film stood frozen for a second, blinking at her.

Before she could formulate a response, Luna tugged on Namtan’s shirt from behind. “Mommy, Auntie Milk says hurry up!”

Film huffed and turned around to help arrange the gifts, muttering to herself, “Unbelievable woman... why does she always show up at unwanted places?”

Namtan smirked behind her, satisfied.

The Main hall was buzzing with polite chatter as both families sat in the cozy living space and discussing details. As Film and Namtan entered together, Milk nearly burst into laughter. The way they both walked in unintentionally coordinated, yet completely unaware of each other’s presence made her want to laugh out loud.

Clearing her throat to hide her amusement, Milk stood and gestured toward the two women. “Everyone, this is my best friend, Namtan.”

Love’s father nodded warmly. “Nice to meet you, Namtan.”

“And this,” Milk continued, nudging Luna gently forward, “is her daughter.”

Love’s mother bent down with a smile. “You have a very beautiful child.”

Namtan bowed slightly, her usual playful smirk softened into genuine gratitude. “Thank you so much.”

“Please, have a seat,” Love’s mother added kindly, gesturing toward the cushion beside Milk.

Meanwhile, Film stood off to the side, still processing how they had ended up in the same living room. White Rose approached her and said softly, “Film, could you go get Love?”

Before Film could nod, Bonnie came skipping down the stairs with View beside her. Between them walked Love, her elegance wrapped in her simple white dress, her smile glowing yet serene. The chatter died for a moment as all eyes turned to the bride-to-be.

Milk’s heart nearly stopped.

She blinked. Once. Twice.

It hit her again the feeling she got the very first time she saw Love the first time they met. That soft lightning bolt of realization. She had fallen again. Deeply. All over again.

Luna, who had been fidgeting beside her, leaned in and whispered with a mischievous grin, “Auntie, close your mouth or a fly will go inside.”

Milk blinked, snapped out of her lovestruck trance, and gave Luna a playful shove. “You little devil.”

Namtan chuckled beside them, nudging Milk’s shoulder. “Think right now, buddy. This is a huge responsibility. If you back out, I will kill you.”

Milk didn’t even look away from Love as she whispered with unwavering certainty, “I’m more sure about her than I’ve ever been about anything in my life.”

Namtan smiled, satisfied, then stood up with a slight bow and turned toward Love’s father.

“Now that everyone’s here,” she began, her voice graceful and strong, “I would like to formally take my responsibility as Milk’s closest friend and ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage on her behalf.”

There was a pause. A collective breath held in anticipation.

Love’s father turned to his daughter. Love met his gaze with soft, gleaming eyes and a smile that said everything without words. He looked back at Namtan, and with a slight nod and a smile of his own, he said, “Yes.”

Applause broke out, and the room erupted into warm celebration. The air filled with lightness and celebration. Plans began immediately the blessings, offerings, and arrangements for the engagement ceremony.

Milk and Love were seated side by side, Love’s fingers gently wrapping around Milk’s as if to say: We did it.

Meanwhile, outside in the garden the kids got busy playing, Luna and Muv were chasing each other around, giggling as they dragged Bonnie and Mim into a makeshift tea party with empty cups. View supervised them from the bench, sipping a cold drink, occasionally rolling her eyes when Muv pretended to faint dramatically.

Back inside, Namtan reached for her tie it had come loose. She chuckled, remembering Luna’s proud little hands tying it in the morning. With a soft shake of her head, she walked over to White Rose.

“Excuse me,” she said with a smile, “could you show me where the washroom is?”

White Rose nodded and gave her directions.

As Namtan walked through the hallway, her smile faded slightly into a thoughtful expression. She fixed her sleeves, but her mind had wandered. Where did Film go?

She glanced back toward the living room Film wasn't there.

Curiosity tugged at her.

Her feet slowed as she looked around the corners, peeking into the kitchen, then the hallway, then the garden.

No sign of her.

Namtan exhaled softly, a strange flutter growing in her chest.

Where did you go, Film?

Namtan opened the bathroom door without thinking, expecting an empty space only to freeze mid-way.

Film stood at the sink, washing her hands, when her eyes flicked to the mirror and—

“AHHH!” she screamed.

Without hesitation, Namtan lunged forward and grabbed Film’s wrist, pinning her against the cold tile wall with a soft thud. Her other hand instantly clamped over Film’s mouth. The sudden contact drew a sharp gasp from Film as her back met the chill. her breath fanning across Film’s face in soft, uneven waves. 

“Why do you always scream like that, huh?” Namtan murmured, her voice low, her gaze swept over Film’s face, every detail memorized as if she were reading a page she never wanted to turn. The curve of Film’s jaw, the soft dip between her brows.

“Say something now... why are you suddenly so quiet?”

Film's narrowed eyes did all the talking. She darted them toward Namtan’s hand that still covered her mouth.

Only then did Namtan realize her hand was still covering Film’s mouth.

“Oh.” Namtan blinked. “Sorry—my bad.”

She removed her hand but didn’t move away. Her arm stayed on the wall, still caging Film in. The heat in the small space was palpable.

Film exhaled hard, her patience clearly thin. “Me? I am screaming? You’re the one barging into bathrooms like it’s your personal space. What are you doing here?”

“What do you mean what am I doing here?” Namtan raised an eyebrow in mock confusion. “I told earlier I’m here for my friend.” Her tone dropped with sarcasm, but her eyes remained locked on Film.

Film crossed her arms. “I’m not talking about that. Do you always just walk into rooms with women already in them?”

Namtan scoffed. “P’Rose told me it was here. For your kind information, the door was open. If someone wanted privacy, they should have locked it.”

Film let out a sarcastic breath. “Ever heard of knocking?”

Namtan narrowed her eyes. “Ever heard of not being drama queen?”

Film let out a sharp breath. “You seriously lack basic manners.” She tried to move past her, but Namtan blocked her path again, grinning. “You gonna scream again?”

“Don’t test me,” Film warned, her voice low, dangerously steady. “You know what I’m capable of.”

Namtan’s lips curled into a wicked smile. “Do I?” she challenged. “Why don’t you show it to me?”

Film didn’t flinch.

Instead, her fingers slowly reached up wrapping around Namtan’s loosely hanging silk tie.

And pulled.

With one sharp tug, she flipped their positions.

Namtan gasped as her back collided with the wooden door, closing it behind her with a final, echoing click.

Before she could react, Film stepped forward, gripping the tie tighter, pulling Namtan impossibly close. Their bodies pressed flush against each other with no air between, just the rising heat. Namtan’s chest rose and fell rapidly, her lips parted, her breath felt hot against Film’s skin.

Her nose brushed against Film’s ear and instantly, her breath hitched.

The scent of Film’s shampoo the sweet scent rushed into her, overwhelming her senses. Her hands found Film’s waist before she realized what she was doing, her fingers were curling slightly as they traced the subtle curve of her back, the fabric of Film’s dress thin under her touch.

Namtan didn’t even know when her eyes had fluttered shut.

But she felt everything.

Every heartbeat.

Every exhale.

Every beating second between them.

Film raised a single finger, brushing it slowly across Namtan’s cheek feathery light, deliberate. Film leaned in closer, her lips just grazing Namtan’s ear, voice like a warning:

“Now move.”

With that, she shoved Namtan gently but firmly aside, opened the door, and walked out leaving Namtan dazed, breathless, and completely undone.

She stayed frozen for a second, back still pressed against the cold wood, heat rushing through her body in contrast.

The echo of Film’s lips lingered on her neck.

Her heart thudded like a drum inside her chest.

She turned to the mirror and caught her reflection hair slightly messy, cheeks flushed, lips parted.

“Oh Buddha,” she muttered, running a hand through her hair. “If this is the goddess I’m supposed to worship… please have mercy on my heart.”

She pressed a hand against her chest.

Still beating.

Still shaken.

Most of the family discussions were winding down. Film sat near Love’s side of the couch, composed but clearly avoiding eye contact.

Namtan had just returned from the washroom, casually adjusting her slightly loosened tie and rolling her sleeves up with the kind of swagger that demanded attention. She settled onto the couch closest to Film.

And of course, she didn’t miss the opportunity to smirk not once but every single time Film dared glance in her direction.

Film, annoyed and determined not to let the butterflies in her stomach win, glared at her silently. Namtan only sipped her tea in response, eyes glued on her, like the tease she was.

Milk, on the other hand, didn’t even try to stop them. She was far too preoccupied staring at her soon-to-be bride, Love.

Then came in the chaos.

“She’s my Auntie Lav! Not yours!” Luna stomped in, dragging a sulky face behind her.

“No! She’s mine! She said so!” Muv stood her ground, hugging Love’s neck tightly like she was protecting her treasure.

Love looked between the two girls, completely confused. “Whoa, whoa. What’s going on with you two?”

Luna huffed and climbed onto Namtan’s lap for safety, crossing her arms. 

Milk raised an eyebrow. “Luna... What did you do, kiddo?”

“I didn’t do anything!” Luna said with those big, innocent eyes. “She started it.” She pointed at Muv dramatically.

Love turned to View and Mim, who both lifted their hands like they were under arrest. “Don’t look at us. We’re just witnesses,” View said.

Then Bonnie strolled in, spinning a ball casually. She grinned as she stood behind the couch where Namtan and Film were seated both looking far too composed.

“I know exactly what happened,” Bonnie said, grinning.

“Do tell,” Love said, leaning forward.

Bonnie tossed the ball up and caught it. “So. Luna told Muv that P’Love is going to live with P’Milk now. Muv got all dramatic and started crying, saying P’Love promised she’s not leaving her. Then... war began.”

Love blinked.

Bonnie nodded proudly. “Pretty much the script.”

She passed the ball to Namtan, who just chuckled and caught it easily. Film, however, groaned. That idiotic grin of Namtan’s was annoying. And way too attractive for her own good.

Meanwhile, the two small culprits had lowered their heads, suddenly shy.

Milk held her arms out. “Come here, you two.”

Muv rushed to Milk’s side, and Luna followed, jumping off Namtan’s lap to join her.

Milk knelt a bit to their level and smiled gently. “See this woman next to me?”

Both kids nodded.

“She’s my life. The woman I love more than anything, except my parents. Actually... maybe even more, but not less either.” She winked.

Love blushed, hiding behind Muv’s head.

Muv’s lower lip trembled. “So... are you really going to take my Mami away?”

Everyone in the room chuckled at her adorableness.

Milk cupped Muv’s cheek. “No, baby. I’m not taking her away. I’m joining her. From now on, we’re one big family. I’ll love your Mami, and I’ll love you, too. I’ll spoil both of you so much you’ll get sick of me.”

Muv lit up. “Even night-night kissy?”

Milk laughed, planting a kiss on her forehead. “Of course, Princess.”

Then Luna tugged Milk’s coat. “What about me?”

Milk folded her arms dramatically and leaned in close. “You?”

Luna nodded with big eyes.

“You’re the queen,” Milk said solemnly.

Everyone burst out laughing.

Namtan leaned toward Film, whispering with a teasing smile, “She’s good, isn’t she?”

Film couldn’t help but nod. “Yeah. They’re going to make a beautiful family.”

Then Namtan added, slyly, “So... how about you? Any future family plans?”

Film rolled her eyes. “You’re starting again with your nonsense.”

Before the tension could rise again, Bonnie cleared her throat behind them, causing both women to jerk upright guiltily.

“You should’ve knocked,” Bonnie said flatly, clearly enjoying herself.

Film straightened. “So! Kids are we friends now?”

Luna and Muv looked at each other, then offered their little hands and shook.

“Friends.”

Bonnie grumbled. “Ugh. I was going to make it a statement.”

Namtan stretched her arms above her head and sighed. “I feel hungry. How about we finally eat?”

Everyone agreed with a cheer, and the group started to move toward the dining area.

They were just settling around the table, the buzz of conversation mixing with the clinking of utensils, when the doorbell rang.

Film, who was nearest, walked over and opened the door only to be met with the familiar bundle of energy that was Joy, who squealed, “Mommy!!” and instantly bolted inside to hug View’s waist.

Standing at the doorway, a little breathless and apologetic, was Mewnich.

Film gave her a gentle smile.

“Actually… we weren’t supposed to interrupt,” Mewnich said, her hands folded politely. “But Joy insisted he needed his plushie. I really tried to convince him otherwise, but you know him. I can’t win against that face.”

View chuckled, ruffling Joy’s hair as she replied, “Don’t worry, I understand. He’s hard to say no to.”

Joy, still hugging View, suddenly peeked up and looked across the room. His eyes widened in surprise. When they landed on Love, dressed in a gorgeous outfit, he tilted his head and asked, “Mommy, why is Auntie Love dressed like a princess?”

Before anyone could answer, Luna and Muv, who had made themselves comfortable near Milk and Love, chimed in with proud smiles.

“Because Auntie Milk is marrying Auntie Lav!” Luna announced.

“Yup!” Muv confirmed, grinning.

Joy’s eyes widened. “Really?! I want to stay and see!”

View crouched down gently, her hand resting on Joy’s small shoulder. “Sweetheart, it’s late. You’ve got school tomorrow, and June will be worried.”

“Even they both are here!” Joy pouted, pointing at Luna and Muv. “Why can’t I stay too?”

View looked helplessly at Film. Film smiled and said gently, “Well... they do study in the same class. Maybe just this once, it’s okay.”

The room collectively paused, surprised but also warmed by the idea.

Love leaned in toward View. “It’s really fine. Let the kids enjoy.”

White Rose turned to Mewnich, asking, “Would you like to stay too?”

Mewnich smiled and shook her head. “Thank you, but I’ll head home. June’s waiting, and Joy’s already in good hands.”

Joy gave Mewnich a quick kiss on the cheek and waved her off with both hands. “Bye-bye! Tell Mommy I’ll be good!”

Then he ran over and plopped down beside Muv, waving at Luna with a big, dimpled grin.

As dinner resumed, the room filled with laughter and warm chatter mostly centered on childhood stories of Love and her siblings, told gleefully by White Rose.

That warmth, however, was quickly disrupted when Love’s mother cleared her throat and turned her attention to Namtan.

“So, Namtan,” she began casually. “You’re quite young to have a daughter of Luna’s age, aren’t you?”

Namtan, caught mid-sip of water, coughed slightly. Milk immediately turned her head, her brows knitting with concern.

Love’s mother continued, seemingly unaware. “I mean, you seem so youthful. A single mother, was it? You must’ve married young,” she smiled lightly before motioning subtly toward View at the other end. “My niece View also married young. But of course, we all know how that turned out, divorced, a child caught in the middle. It’s such an absurd situation, don’t you think? It affects not just the couple, but the children too. Former spouses, current ones it all gets so... complicated.”

There was a sudden stillness at the table. Even Joy had stopped chewing, his little hands frozen around his spoon at the mention of his parents lingered. View’s face hardened as she lowered her eyes.

White Rose interjected firmly. “Mom, really? Not now. This isn’t the place.”

Film gently placed her hand on the table, catching the kids’ attention. “Hey, if you’re all finished, who wants ice cream?”

All hands shot up.

“Bonnie, can you help me with the bowls?”

Bonnie, understanding the tense situation, nodded immediately. “Of course.” She quietly nudged Muv and Joy to follow. The group of children and adults filtered out, voices soft and excited, leaving behind the awkward pause.

Milk’s parents swiftly picked up a new topic, something about the wedding plans, trying to patch the atmosphere.

Namtan leaned in and whispered to Milk, “I need some air.”

Milk gave a small nod, eyes watching her go.

Film looked back at the doorway where Namtan disappeared but turned her attention to the kids knowing they needed her for now.

A few moments later, View excused herself too. “I think I am done too,” she said simply, rising from the table.

But everyone understood.

Mim silently followed her wife upstairs, a soft hand resting on View’s shoulder as they walked.

Film moved through the guests with practiced ease, balancing bowls of ice cream in her hands, offering them with soft smiles. Laughter from the garden echoed faintly in the background as the night settled.

She spotted Luna, standing alone near the balcony, her small frame leaning against the railing, eyes turned to the sky. The child was unusually still. The moonlight bathed her face in silver, and Film noticed the subtle tremble in her shoulders.

She approached gently. “Doesn’t this little one want some ice cream?”

Luna turned slightly but said nothing. Instead, she walked up and wrapped her arms around Film's waist, burying her face in her stomach.

Startled, Film froze for a second before instinctively bending down, pulling Luna into a tighter embrace. Her hand rubbed soothing circles along the little girl’s back.

That’s when she felt it, the silent sobs.

Film’s chest ached. Was it something someone had said? That words at the dinner table... Had Luna heard it all? Was it the way her mom’s name was brought up?

She didn’t know. She didn’t care. All that mattered was calming Luna now.

“It’s alright,” Film whispered, “I’ve got you.”

The tears slowed as Muv came bouncing over, oblivious to the storm that had just passed.

“Luna, Luna! I’m full,” Muv said, holding out her ice cream cup. “Can you finish this for me? It's soooo yummy, but I can’t eat more.”

Luna sniffled but managed a smile. “You always need my help,” she muttered, taking the spoon from Muv.

Film chuckled quietly as the girls sat on the low wall, sharing the ice cream. Muv’s chatter filled the silence Luna had left behind.

Then it hit her.

Where was Joy?

She scanned the area, frowning. “Bonnie,” she called softly.

Bonnie, mid-conversation with White Rose, turned. “Hmm?”

“Joy’s not with the others?”

Bonnie glanced around. “He was, but maybe he went upstairs? Probably with View?”

Film nodded slowly, but the worry gnawed at her.

Something didn’t feel right.

Namtan sat alone on the marble steps leading to the corridor, her knees curled to her chest, arms wrapped tightly around them. Her eyes were cast upward, fixed on the glittering night sky above.

The moon, gentle and pale, stared down at her like a memory she couldn’t hold onto.

Her voice cracked, barely above a whisper, “Phi... I wish you were here.”

Her lips trembled as she fought the lump in her throat. “Luna needs you. I need you.”

A tear fell, catching the soft glow of the porch light.

“Phi, please… I miss you so much.”

She didn’t even realize how long she had been sitting there frozen in the ache of a loss that never softened. Until she felt a soft touch on her shoulder.

Startled, she looked up. Joy, standing quietly with a tissue box nearly bigger than his chest, held it out with both hands like an offering.

Namtan instinctively wiped her tears with the sleeve of her shirt, hurriedly, like someone ashamed of grief. “No, no,” she said, masking it with a crooked smile. “See? All good.”

But Joy didn’t budge. From his shirt pocket, he pulled out a neatly folded handkerchief, pale blue with soft yellow embroidery at the edges. It smelled faintly sweet as she pressed it to her face.

The scent clung to her skin. And oddly, for some reason… it reminded her of Film.

She paused, pulling it away, her brows drawing together. Turning slightly, she looked over her shoulder. No one.

Maybe… maybe the whole family just used the same shampoo? or perfume?

She chuckled under her breath, a bit embarrassed by her wandering thoughts.

Joy was still there, standing with that patient, old-soul expression children often wore when they knew more than they let on.

“Can I sit here, Auntie Tip?” he asked innocently, already making space for himself.

Namtan raised a brow, amused. “What did you call me?”

Joy smiled proudly. “Muv told me that Luna told her to call you Auntie Tip. So, Auntie Tip.” Namtan laughed, the name catching her off guard, warming her chest. 

Joy sat down beside her with a satisfied sigh, tucking his knees up. “Aren’t you supposed to be eating ice cream with the others?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Nope. Mommy says eating sugar at night will give me cavities.”

Namtan gasped playfully, placing a hand on her chest. “Well then, champ, you really shouldn’t be sitting with me.”

Joy blinked, confused. “Why not?”

She leaned in close, widening her eyes for dramatic effect. “Because I’m way too sweet.”

Joy made a face. “Looks sour to me.”

Namtan gasped as if mortally offended. “You little brat!” She nudged him with her elbow.

He giggled and nudged her back. “Parents.”

Namtan, caught off guard by his insight, snorted. “Children and don't you think you are little to small mister”

Joy tilted his head. “Don’t you think you’re too big to cry?”

Namtan stared at him. Then, without a word, they both broke into laughter, the kind that fills the cracks of aching hearts.

Their laughter echoed gently in the night air, warm and alive.

But then—

A voice cut in from the shadows, quiet but not missed.

“Film, what are you doing near the door?”

Love.

Namtan turned her head slowly, and that’s when she saw Film standing in the hallway entrance, partially hidden by the doorframe.

Her posture still, a soft expression caught between guilt and warmth on her face.

Namtan’s eyes slowly dropped to the handkerchief still in her hand.

So… it was Film’s.

She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

She just smiled to herself, shaking her head, tucking the handkerchief closer to her heart.

Milk and her family were preparing to leave, exchanging final hugs and thank-yous. The laughter had dulled to soft conversations, the warmth of celebration lingering in the air like perfume after a dance.

Namtan stood, stretching her back when Bonnie approached, her phone still in hand.

“Hey, don’t look for your kid. Muv and Luna have knocked out on my bed,” she said with a small grin.

Namtan chuckled, nodding. “I figured the sugar crash would hit soon.”

She followed Bonnie upstairs, taking her time, her footsteps light. The hallway was dim, painted in moonlight that seeped through the window. As she reached the room, the door quietly clicked shut behind her.

She turned instinctively and there stood Film, leaning against the door like she’d been waiting there for hours.

Namtan’s smirk came naturally. “Is this going to be one of those nights?” she teased, voice low and light.

But Film’s expression wasn’t playful. It was gentle, concerned. “Are you… alright?”

Namtan’s heart softened at her tone. Still, she deflected with her usual charm. “I’ve never felt better, actually,” she said, slowly stepping closer. “But you… you could help make my mood even better.”

Film’s brows knit, confused. “How?”

Namtan raised her hand, slowly, deliberately and tapped her own lips with her index finger. “Right here.”

Film’s eyes widened. “There are kids here!”

Namtan took another step, voice dipped in flirt. “You should’ve thought about that before following me in, Miss Rachanun.”

The space between them shrank, the heat, breath, and a magnetic pull swirling in the tension. Film’s breath hitched as Namtan’s presence surrounded her. Her legs felt shaky, her thoughts muddled. Their foreheads almost brushed, the air thick with the almost.

“Mom?”

A small, sleepy voice broke the tension like a crack of thunder.

Luna yawned, rubbing her eyes from the bed.

Namtan immediately stepped back, muttering an internal storm of curses as she turned to her daughter. “Here, baby. Mama’s here.”

Luna stretched her little arms, and Namtan scooped her up effortlessly, resting the girl against her shoulder.

As she turned to leave the room, Film stood by the door, watching them with a knowing grin.

Namtan rolled her eyes with a breathy sigh, adjusting Luna’s weight but just as she stepped forward, she felt a soft, warm brush of lips against her cheek.

She froze, her breath catching.

By the time she turned her head, Film had already winked, her grin playful, mischievous and then she slipped down the hallway like a breeze, as if nothing happened.

Namtan stood still, cheeks flushed, heart skipping. 

She made her way down, quiet but glowing. As Milk called out, “You ready?” Namtan nodded with a smile.

“Let’s go,” she said, holding Luna close as they stepped out.

Inside the car, Luna slept soundly, head resting on Namtan’s lap.

Namtan sat in the passenger seat, her face turned toward the window though her hand instinctively returned to the spot where Film’s kiss still lingered, warm and unforgettable.

She smiled.

Well… it wasn’t much. But it was something.

And something was better than nothing.