Forever alone should be my middle name

Here's the little snippet I wrote for this, thank you for the prompt, it did kept me distracted from all the drama. Sorry it took so long, hope you enjoy it ;)

Nueng sipped her tea, scrolling through emails on her phone. Business had been quieter since she hired an administrator for the family real estate and a manager for the gallery. It was a decision she’d made reluctantly at first, but now she couldn’t be happier. Freeing herself from the day-to-day grind meant she could focus on the creative side of her work—the part she truly loved—and, more importantly, on Anueng.

Her soon-to-be wife.

The thought still made her heart skip, even after all this time.

Nueng glanced at the clock. Anueng was usually up by now, chattering about her latest radio show antics or some quirky story from her friends. But today, the house was unusually quiet. Nueng frowned, setting her phone down.

The wedding plans had been a point of contention at first. Nueng had been adamantly against a ceremony—too much fuss, too many people. But Anueng’s grandma had insisted, her tone leaving no room for argument. Chet, Anueng’s father, had been predictably unenthusiastic, while Pienghfa, her mother, had remained neutral, offering only a vague promise to fly in from overseas if the wedding happened.

What changed Nueng’s mind was a single moment: Anueng’s eyes lighting up as her grandmother flipped through a stack of wedding magazines. Anueng had tried to play it cool, shrugging and saying she didn’t care about a big wedding, that she was happy just being with her “Ar-Nueng.” But Nueng knew better. She’d spent years studying Anueng—her quirks, her moods, the way her eyes sparkled when she was truly happy.

So Nueng had stepped in, her voice slightly raised. “I think it would be fitting for an Anantrakul to have a proper wedding ceremony. So I can present my bride to everyone.”

The words had slipped out before she could stop them, and Anueng’s bewildered expression made her realize she’d gone a little too far. “What do you think, Anueng?” she’d added quickly, softening her tone.

Anueng had hesitated, her cheeks pink. “I’m… I’m okay with whatever Ar-Nueng decides. If that’s what you want.”

But Nueng had seen it—the hopeful spark in her eyes, the way her lips twitched as if fighting a smile. That was all the confirmation Nueng needed. She’d made the right choice.

Now, as she sat in the quiet kitchen, Nueng couldn’t help but feel a little giddy remembering that moment. Anueng’s happiness had always been her priority, even if it meant stepping out of her comfort zone.

The sound of footsteps pulled her from her thoughts. Anueng shuffled to the breakfast table, wrapped in one of Nueng’s old hoodies, her hair a messy halo around her face. She looked… off. No bubbly greeting, no dramatic kiss, not even a teasing remark about Nueng’s “grandma tea habits.”

Nueng’s brow furrowed. “Morning,” she said cautiously, watching as Anueng grabbed just a piece of fruit and some juice—nothing like her usual hearty breakfast.

“Morning,” Anueng mumbled, sliding into a chair.

Nueng set her tea down, her gaze sharp. “Something the matter?”

Anueng shrugged, picking at the edge of her sleeve. “Just tired. Work’s been busy.”

Nueng didn’t buy it for a second. She knew Anueng’s “tired” voice, and this wasn’t it. This was something else—something Anueng wasn’t ready to share.

Immediately, sirens went off in her head. She’s lying to me now? Nueng’s protective instincts flared. What was going on with her little bride?

She continued to observe Anueng, searching for more clues. Anueng didn’t even look at her, her gaze fixed on the table.

“If work is making you this tired, maybe you should quit. You know you don’t need to work,” Nueng said, deliberately touching on a topic she knew would cause friction. It was a test, a way to provoke a reaction.

But all she got was a tired sigh. “Ar-Nueng…”

Nueng narrowed her eyes. Something is definitely wrong. Before she could push further, Anueng stood abruptly. “I’ll spend the day at Grandma’s. She wants to go over the last details before the wedding.”

And with that, she excused herself, leaving her half-eaten breakfast behind.

Nueng stared at the empty chair, her worry deepening. This wasn’t like Anueng at all. The girl who usually clung to her like a koala, who schemed and teased and filled the house with laughter, was now distant and evasive.

Nueng’s jaw tightened. She wasn’t going to let this slide. Even if Anueng wouldn’t talk, she’d get to the bottom of this.

She got up and followed Anueng upstairs.

---

Anueng’s stomach had been in knots for days. At first, she thought it was just nerves—wedding planning, her father’s passive-aggressive comments, and the pressure of having the “perfect wedding” were enough to make anyone queasy. But now, the pain was sharper, more persistent. She hadn’t been able to keep food down, and the thought of facing Ar-Nueng’s excessive concern made her feel even worse. It had been years, but Ar-Nueng still got frantic every time Anueng so much as sneezed. She understood, of course. Those long months when Ar-Nueng didn’t know if she would live or die had left scars. Anueng always thanked the gods she wasn’t the one in Ar-Nueng’s shoes—she wouldn’t have been able to take it. Just thinking about it made her shudder, and as if to remind her of her predicament, another sharp pain twisted her stomach.

“If she finds out, she’ll drag me to the hospital,” Anueng thought, wincing as she pressed a hand to her stomach. “And then she’ll get worried sick, thinking I’m dying or something.” But she’d also make that lost puppy face that Anueng found so endearing. No. She couldn’t do that to her beloved. Ar-Nueng would be too stressed, and with the wedding so close, Anueng wouldn’t reschedule it even if she were in a coma again. She had dreamed of this for so long.

She had been over the moon when they’d had their little ceremony on the beach that day. Ecstatic, really. To have the woman of her dreams promise to be by her side forever was all she had ever asked for. But when her grandma showed up at the palace with those wedding magazines, Anueng’s heart had skipped a beat. She couldn’t help but imagine herself and Ar-Nueng in gowns, standing in front of their family and friends, promising to love each other forever. It was a dream she hadn’t dared to voice.

So when her grandma asked, Anueng lied. She said she didn’t care about a big wedding at all. To her surprise, Ar-Nueng stepped in, her tone fake-cheerful in a way she had never heard before. “I’d love to have a wedding ceremony,” Ar-Nueng had declared, her smile so forced it was almost comical.

Anueng had stared at her like she’d sprouted another head. Who are you, and what have you done with my Ar-Nueng? Still puzzled, she’d agreed, her voice hesitant at first but growing more confident as the image of their wedding filled her mind again. Her heart had raced at the thought.

Now, the last thing she wanted was to be a burden. Ar-Nueng had already done so much for her—stood by her after the accident, fought for their relationship, and even agreed to a big wedding despite hating the idea. Anueng couldn’t add to her stress.

But hiding it was getting harder. This morning, the smell of breakfast had made her stomach churn, and Ar-Nueng’s sharp eyes had missed nothing. Anueng had tried to deflect, but Ar-Nueng’s probing questions and that look—the one that said, “I know you’re lying”—had made her want to crawl under the covers and disappear.

Now, sitting on the edge of the bed, Anueng felt tears prick her eyes. She was tired, in pain, and so, so scared. What if something was really wrong? What if she ruined everything?

Anueng could hear the firm steps on the stairs, making their way to their bedroom. She didn’t even have time to compose herself, her eyes moist with unshed tears. Ar-Nueng paused as she crossed the doorway, taking in the sight of the girl hunched on their bed. Her eyes widened, and Anueng could see worry fill her face.

“What’s going on?” Ar-Nueng had asked, stepping closer. “And don’t say ‘nothing.’ I know you too well for that.” Her voice was sharp, but Anueng could hear a hint of desperation in it.

Sitting swiftly on the bed, Ar-Nueng took her hand in hers. Anueng loved holding that hand so much. It always gave her the strength she needed—the warmth and firmness of the grip felt like a shield, like she could do anything as long as that hand was holding hers. This time, though, that hand also made her anxious. She wished she could be more of Ar-Nueng’s strength, not a burden. She tried to pull away and get up, but the hand held firmly and pulled Anueng into her lap.

As soon as she settled onto Ar-Nueng’s lap, Anueng laced her arms around the older woman’s neck and rested her head in the crook of her neck. She exhaled, breathing in the soothing scent that was distinctly Ar-Nueng’s. The comforting embrace enveloped her, making her feel protected and loved. She felt like crying even more.

“Anueng, please tell me what’s happening. I’m getting really worried here,” Ar-Nueng said, her voice calm and soft but still urgent. Anueng buried herself even deeper into the embrace and shook her head.

“Please, teerak, please tell me what’s going on,” Ar-Nueng whispered, using the tender word reserved for special moments. At that, Anueng’s resolve shattered. She sniffled softly. “I… I haven’t been feeling well. My stomach… it hurts.”

Ar-Nueng gently pushed Anueng back to look into her face, worry marring her features. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to worry you,” Anueng whispered. “You’ve been so busy with the wedding, and I… I didn’t want to be a burden.”

Ar-Nueng’s expression softened, though her tone remained stern. “You’re never a burden. But hiding this from me? That’s unacceptable.”

Anueng let out a shaky laugh. “I knew you’d say that.”

Anueng was pulled back into strong arms, a hand coming up to stroke the girl’s hair. Ar-Nueng’s breathing was a little erratic, but the act seemed to calm her down, which in turn soothed Anueng. Everything is going to be okay now, Anueng thought. Ar-Nueng will make sure of that.

Ar-Nueng stood, almost making Anueng tumble to the ground. “I’m calling the doctor. No arguments.”

Anueng groaned. “Ar-Nueng, it’s probably just stress—”

“And if it’s not?” Ar-Nueng interrupted, her voice sharp. “I’m not taking chances with you.”

Ar-Nueng went to her study, and Anueng remained in their bedroom. A huge weight lifted from her shoulders. It wasn’t like she didn’t know she could always count on Ar-Nueng to protect her and take all her problems away, but it was nice to be reminded of that. Part of the queasiness faded just like that.

Later, after the doctor confirmed it was just stress-related gastritis, Ar-Nueng tucked her into bed with a cup of ginger tea and a stern look.

“Next time,” Ar-Nueng said, cradling her face in her hand, a thumb softly brushing her cheek, “you tell me. Immediately. Understood?”

She smiled weakly, holding the hand that cradled her face. “Understood.” But as she spoke, she felt that persistent tug in her mind—A burden—and her stomach churned again.

Ar-Nueng’s hand tensed. “What is it? Spill it.”

There was no escaping. They’d have to talk about this. Anueng didn’t want this to be a problem, but she couldn’t let her Ar-Nueng feel uneasy again.

“I don’t want to be a burden,” she whispered, her voice almost inaudible as she tried to hide her face.

Ar-Nueng gently forced her head up again, her eyes soft and her tone tender. “Why would you be a burden?”

She felt like crying at the tenderness her lover was showing. Sippakorn was normally an aloof person, and this side of her was reserved only for Anueng and Sam. Her pulse quickened, overwhelmed by the love she felt. She was so lucky—sometimes, she couldn’t quite believe it.

With more resolve this time, she was able to share her doubts. “I wonder if I’m worthy of you. I said I’d be, but I’m not sure I am yet. And now we’re getting married in front of everyone.” She stopped and looked directly into Ar-Nueng’s eyes. “I want to be able to give you the same comfort and strength you give me. I want to be not just your lover but your partner too. I want to be worthy of your love.”

When she finished, she felt spent, exhausted after the emotionally charged weeks.

Ar-Nueng took both her hands this time, pressing a tender kiss to the back of each. Her eyes were a little moist. “Don’t you know by now? You’re worthy. You’re the only one worthy in this whole world. You are my everything. I’d be nothing without you. Having you by my side gives me the strength I need. Don’t ever doubt that.”

Ar-Nueng’s hand went to her neck, gently bringing her face closer. She looked into her eyes intently before bringing their lips together. The kiss wasn’t passionate, like they usually preferred. This was tender, just the soft touch of lips. It reminded Anueng of their first kiss—warm, reassuring, and filled with love. She could feel Ar-Nueng’s devotion in every second of it, and it made her whole body warm, her heart beating faster.

When they separated, both had tears in their eyes and smiles on their faces. Their love felt palpable, radiating from every pore of their being.

Ar-Nueng pressed the girl to rest on the bed, and as soon as she settled, Anueng missed their contact. She made big eyes and opened her arms. “Please, stay with me. I’m too sick. I need you to recharge my strength,” she said, her voice dripping with sweetness, back to her old habits.

Ar-Nueng narrowed her eyes, which only made her smile widen. “Now you’re pushing,” Ar-Nueng said, her voice disapproving, as it always did when Anueng was pestering her. But her actions showed that, as always, Anueng was going to get away with it. Ar-Nueng climbed into bed and positioned herself so Anueng could rest in her arms, a hand playing aimlessly with the girl’s hair.

Ar-Nueng pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Now rest. And no more hiding things from me.”