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The sound of bass thumped through the walls of the club. Milk stepped inside, her eyes instantly adjusting to the flashing neon lights and the number of bodies moving in sync to the rhythm.
The air was a bit warm, thick with the scent of sweat and perfume, and the music was already turning her mood from chill to high-energy. She felt a rush of freedom as she walked past the crowd, catching the attention of a few pairs of eyes, but she didn’t care.
Tonight, it was all about having fun.
She waved off the bartender with a smile and grabbed a drink—a kiss on the lips that was as spontaneous as she was—and turned back to the dance floor.
The crowd shifted and pulsed around her, some dancing, some laughing, others just vibing to the beat. Milk’s eyes darted through the scene, taking it all in. She could feel the music in her veins, the way it made her want to move. But then she stopped, her gaze landing on someone.
Standing near the edge of the dance floor was a woman, her posture straight and confident, but there was something almost… reserved about her. She wasn’t caught up in the chaos of the night like everyone else.
No, she was more like a magnet, pulling Milk’s attention with the subtle tension in her bearing and the way her eyes skimmed the room but didn’t make contact with anyone. A drink in her hand—a death in the afternoon—her lips curved into a soft, thoughtful line.
Milk took a slow sip of her drink, watching. There was a serious energy about the woman, the kind that contrasted with the wild vibe of the club. She stood out, but in a way that made Milk curious.
Their eyes met for a brief moment, and Milk felt something—something that zapped in her chest. It was like an electric pulse that rippled through the air between them.
Milk raised an eyebrow, almost daring the moment to last longer, but the woman just turned her head slightly away, like she was trying to decide whether to engage or not.
Milk grinned to herself. Challenge accepted.
With a confident move of her hips, she paced across the floor, slipping past a couple dancing too close and passing between a group of people before finally stopping right in front of the woman.
The woman looked up, surprised but not startled, and Milk gave her a charming, mischievous smile.
“Hey,” Milk said, leaning in a bit closer so her voice wouldn’t get lost in the music. “What’s a stunning lady like you doing standing alone in a place like this?”
The woman gave a small, almost invisible chuckle, her lips twitching slightly. She looked Milk over, studying her, and Milk felt a flicker of heat run up her spine. It was a look that was both curious and guarded, as if the woman was trying to figure out Milk’s intention.
“I could ask you the same thing,” she replied coolly, her voice low and calm. Her eyes flickered briefly to the people around them, then back at Milk. “Seems like you’re the type who likes to be the center of attention.”
Milk’s grin widened. “I like being noticed, sure. But I’m more interested in getting to know someone who doesn’t immediately jump into the chaos.” She gestured toward the club, where a group of people was dancing wildly. “I mean, you’re the one standing out here, looking like you’ve got a secret or something.”
The woman arched an eyebrow, a hint of amusement creeping into her serious expression. “A secret, huh?” She glanced down at her drink, swirling it gently. “I guess I’m just not much for big crowds. Too much noise. Too much... everything, really.”
Milk tilted her head. “Sounds like you’re the type who likes the quiet.” She leaned in a bit closer, lowering her voice. “I get that. But, you know, sometimes, the noise isn’t all that bad.”
The woman gave her a long, steady look, and for a moment, Milk wondered if maybe she’d misread the situation. But then the woman’s lips curled into a smile—small but genuine—and Milk’s heart did a little flip.
“I’m Love,” she said, extending her hand.
Milk shook it, her eyes lighting up. “Milk. And no, I don’t have any weird dairy-related backstory. It’s just my name. And you’ve got the serious vibe, huh? Love. I like that.”
Love’s smile widened just a touch, her eyes sparkling for the first time since they met. “I guess I’ve always been a little... intense. Careful,” she admitted, her voice softer now. “Maybe that’s why I’m standing over here instead of losing my mind with the rest of them.”
Milk laughed, throwing her head back a little, the sound blending in with the music. “I get that. I’m not exactly the ‘careful’ type, but I respect it. It’s like you’re the calm in the storm. I could use a little of that.”
They stood there for a moment, the music thumping around them, but in their little bubble, everything felt quieter. Milk felt the heat of the conversation, the magnetic pull between them growing stronger.
“So,” Milk uttered after a beat, her tone lighter. “What’s your go-to move when the dance floor is too much?”
Love smirked, her eyes glinting. “I don’t dance. I watch.”
“Ah, the mysterious observer,” Milk joked. “I get it. You like to watch how things unfold. Maybe… you’ll get me to do something interesting while you stand there judging me?”
Love’s smile turned into something more playful, her earlier seriousness slipping away. “Oh, I’m not judging. I’m just… waiting for the right moment.”
Milk leaned in closer, her voice low and teasing. “Well, I’m a right now kind of girl. So, what do you say we get a drink, maybe even share an awkward dance, and see what happens?”
Love studied her for a moment, the tension between them growing thicker, and Milk almost thought she’d say no. But then, a little smile played at the corners of her lips.
“Alright, Milk,” she replied, the first name feeling a little lighter on her tongue. “Let’s see what happens.”
And just like that, Milk knew the night was about to turn into something unforgettable.
The club was still buzzing when Milk and Love found themselves at the bar for the third round of drinks.
Love’s usually guarded expression had softened a little with each sip, and her smile was now more frequent. Milk had a way of making her feel both intrigued and comfortable, a mix that Love didn’t often experience.
Milk, however, was more than just comfortable—she was on a roll. “I think I’ve done it,” she said, tapping her glass against Love’s. “I’ve officially convinced you to drink on a night out. How do you feel?”
Love smirked, taking a slower sip of her cocktail. “I feel like I’m not entirely sure what’s going on anymore.”
Milk leaned in closer, her voice teasing. “That’s the magic of alcohol. It makes everything blurry enough to forget your usual self.”
“I don’t forget who I am,” Love replied, raising an eyebrow. “Just... I’m a little more... relaxed tonight.”
“Relaxed, huh?” Milk grinned, a little mischievous. “You’ve been holding back, Love. But guess what? I’m about to change that. We’re going dancing.”
Love looked at her, clearly suspicious. “Dancing?”
Milk took her by the arm before Love could protest further, pulling her toward the dance floor. “Yes, dancing. And trust me, you’re going to love it. Just let go. You’ll see.”
Love looked at her, eyes narrowing slightly. “I’m not... a dancer, remember?”
Milk laughed, clearly not taking no for an answer. “And I’m not giving you an option.”
As they reached the edge of the dance floor, the music seemed to get louder, and the lights flashing in wild patterns made everything feel alive. Bodies were swaying and jumping, completely lost in the beat, but Milk and Love stood just outside of it. Milk took a few steps forward and turned to face Love, raising an eyebrow.
“Come on,” Milk encouraged, a playful grin stretching across her face. “You can stand there forever, or you can dance with me.”
Love hesitated. She wasn’t one for this. She wasn’t the type to let loose, to move to a rhythm that made no sense to her. But there was something about Milk’s energy—her charm, her confidence—that made it feel a little less intimidating.
“Okay, fine,” Love muttered with a resigned sigh, her lips curving into a small smile. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Milk threw her hands up in triumph. “You won’t regret it.”
The moment Love stepped onto the dance floor, Milk grabbed her hand, pulling her into the crowd. The music surged around them, the beat shaking through their bodies as Milk started moving, her hips swaying and arms swinging a bit as she threw herself into the rhythm.
Love tried to mirror her, but it wasn’t exactly graceful. Her movements were a little stiff, but the alcohol had loosened her up, and before long, she found herself laughing—a full, genuine laugh that surprised even her. Milk was practically spinning in circles, her energy contagious.
“You’re terrible at this,” Love teased, looking at Milk’s over-the-top movements. Milk shot her a playful wink. “You think that’s bad? Just wait.”
Before Love could protest, Milk tugged her closer, their bodies just inches apart. Milk’s hands were on Love’s shoulders, guiding her movements. Love could feel the heat of Milk’s touch and the beat vibrating through her chest, her own body slowly syncing with the rhythm.
For a moment, Love closed her eyes, feeling the music rush over her. It wasn’t perfect, but it was freeing. She couldn’t remember the last time she had let herself be so... messy. So careless. And with Milk? It felt okay.
She opened her eyes and caught Milk grinning at her, an almost daring look in her eyes. “You’re better than I thought,” Milk said, her voice loud over the music. “You’ve got rhythm. You just need to embrace the chaos a little more.”
Love raised an eyebrow. “You call this chaos?” Milk spun around, laughing. “Not yet, but pretty much. But I promise it’s fun if you stop trying to control it.”
The music changed, a heavier beat pulsing through the speakers. Milk’s body went wild with it, moving fast, hips swaying, arms throwing up as if she was in her own world. Love couldn’t help but watch.
“Hey, no fair,” Love uttered, a laugh bubbling up as she tried to mimic Milk’s exaggerated dance moves. “You can’t just break out into full-on interpretive dance.”
Milk shot her a look over her shoulder. “Interpretive? Please, this is just me being me.”
Love stuck her tongue out, getting more into it, her hands waving in the air, trying to make sense of the moves. They bumped into each other, laughed, and Milk even pushed Love a little, making her stumble.
“Oh, you did not just do that!” Love remarked, eyes flashing with mock outrage. Milk winked. “Oh, I did. You’re on, Love.”
What followed was a battle—a dance-off, if you could call it that. It wasn’t about looking good. It was about who could be more ridiculous, who could make the other laugh harder.
“You’re actually pretty good at this!” Milk teased, her voice full of playful mockery. Love shot back, “And you’re terrible! But... I kinda like it.”
With that, Love swayed her hips in a way that was probably way too exaggerated for her usual self, sending Milk into a fit of giggles.
“You know what?” Milk said, catching her breath. “We should just keep this up until everyone here thinks we’re both insane.” Love smirked, her face flushed from the dancing and laughing. “They probably already do, but it sounds like a plan.”
They locked eyes, both of them out of breath but completely lost in the moment. The lights flashed around them and for once, Love didn’t care about looking perfect or staying composed. She was caught up in the wildness, the laughter, and the lightness of the connection she was sharing with Milk. The night felt like it had just begun, and she wasn’t ready for it to end.
Milk took a step back, pulling Love into a quick, ridiculous spin before twirling her back. “You’re officially a terrible dancer, but I think I’ve turned you into one of my favorite people tonight.”
Love smirked, wiping her forehead. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
The club’s thumping bass faded as the door swung shut behind them, and the cool night air hit Milk’s face with a refreshing sharpness. The city stretched out before them, its lights casting a soft glow on the streets. The sidewalk was quieter outside the club, but the world still hummed with the low murmur of the city, distant cars, and the occasional honk.
Milk inhaled deeply, letting the cold air fill her lungs, then turned to look at Love. Love, standing next to her, still had that subtle, pensive expression on her face, but it was softer now, like she was at ease in a way she hadn’t been before.
Milk grinned, nudging her shoulder lightly. “Nice to get out of there, huh? I mean, I love a good party, but sometimes, fresh air hit different.”
Love chuckled, adjusting her jacket as a slight breeze brushed past them. “Yeah. It’s nice.” She paused for a second, glancing up at the stars peeking through the city’s glow. “I don’t usually do this. Go out, I mean. But tonight’s been fun.”
Milk tilted her head, a little surprised. “Really? You’re fun, Love. I think I’ve convinced you to let loose tonight.”
Love’s lips curled up, her smile soft but genuine. “I guess you have.” She took a deep breath, the coolness of the air making her feel awake. “I’m usually not the type to just... let go. I’ve got my own rhythm. My own routine.”
Milk raised an eyebrow, her voice teasing. “That’s the thing with routines, though. They get boring. You need a little chaos now and then to remind you what’s fun.”
Love looked over at Milk, her eyes thoughtful, the hint of a smile still on her face. “I don’t know... Sometimes, I think routine is safe. You know what to expect.”
Milk laughed softly. “Safe? Yeah, maybe. But you end up missing so much, don’t you? Like, when’s the last time you just... followed your gut, without worrying about where it’d take you?”
Love hesitated, glancing away, her expression almost shy. “I guess I don’t do that much. Not... enough, anyway.”
The words hung in the air for a second, and Milk felt the shift in their conversation. It wasn’t just about dancing anymore; it was something deeper. She took a step closer, her voice softer.
“Well, maybe tonight’s a good place to start, right? You just took a risk by stepping out there with me. You danced, you laughed—hell, you even enjoyed it. That’s progress, Love. Who knows? Maybe you’ll surprise yourself more than you think.”
Love looked at Milk, really looked at her this time, and the way Milk’s eyes were open and honest made something warm flutter inside her. Milk was... different. She wasn’t hiding anything, not a single thing, and it felt like she was offering Love a little window into her world.
“Maybe you’re right,” Love said quietly, the words almost slipping out before she could stop them. “I don’t usually talk about this stuff, you know? I don’t really open up.”
Milk gave her a sideways glance, arched her eyebrow again. “Yeah? You don’t seem like the type to hold back. You’ve got this vibe like... like you know what you want, but you’re just figuring out how to get there.”
Love paused, her face softening. “I think... I think I’ve always been a little afraid to share too much. I mean, what if people don’t get it? Or what if they don’t like it?”
Milk shrugged, her tone warm and open. “Who cares if they don’t get it? It’s your life, Love. And, trust me, people like the real you. If they don’t, that’s their problem.”
For a moment, Love felt herself relax, the walls around her slowly starting to crumble. Milk wasn’t asking her to be anyone else. Milk was just... there. Right beside her.
They continued walking down the street, side by side, the sound of their footsteps soft against the pavement. Love let out a small breath, feeling something inside her ease. "What about you? You don’t seem like the type who holds back.”
Milk snorted, shaking her head. “Nope. Not at all. My life’s an open book, sometimes way too open. But I guess I’ve learned that if you’re honest with people—about everything—they either stick around or they don’t.”
Love smiled to herself, a little more content than she had been just hours ago. “I guess you’re right. Maybe I’ve been... too careful, not letting people see all of me.”
Milk looked over at her, her eyes warm and sincere. “There’s nothing wrong with being careful. But don’t let it keep you from showing up for the people who matter.” She shot her a playful look. “And you, Love? You matter.”
For the first time in a while, Love felt like someone understood. Someone saw her, not just the parts she let people see, but the quiet spaces in between. And in that moment, walking side by side with Milk, the city lights flickering around them, she realized that maybe letting go wasn’t as scary as she’d always thought.
They walked on, the conversation easing into more stories, more laughter. Time didn’t matter as they shared pieces of their lives, little moments from their childhoods, their dreams, and even their fears. The night stretched on, and for the first time in a long while, Love wasn’t thinking ahead. She was right here, with Milk, in a moment that felt real.
And Milk? She was just happy to be herself, to show someone else that the world was full of surprises if you let it in.
The bench was cool beneath them, a little uncomfortable at first, but neither of them seemed to mind. The city was quiet here, a calmer part of town with fewer people passing by, leaving Milk and Love alone to talk.
They’d moved from one topic to another—childhood stories, embarrassing moments, random thoughts about the future—and time seemed to stretch endlessly, as if the night had slowed down for them.
Milk kicked her feet up on the bench, her body relaxed and leaning into the backrest, while Love sat beside her, arms resting on her knees, a quiet smile tugging at her lips. It felt easy, too easy, like they’d been talking like this for ages, even though it had only been a few hours.
“So, you’re telling me you don’t drink plain milk even now?” Milk asked, still chuckling at the idea of it. Love nodded, her smile softening. “Yeah. But I do drink flavoured ones, which is why I find your name a bit intriguing.”
“Aw, that’s kind of adorable,” Milk said, nudging her with her elbow. “For me, I could eat almost everything, but I’m still allergic to red meat.”
Love laughed, the sound warm and free. “I guess people can’t always have what they want.” Milk shrugged, leaning back with a laugh. “What can I say? I have that kind of luck.”
“I can tell.” Love’s smile was playful, and her eyes had that light in them that made Milk’s heart skip a little. She was so easy to talk to now, so at ease.
They lapsed into silence for a moment, the kind of comfortable quiet that felt like nothing needed to be said. The city was still around them, but in this little corner of it, it was just them, the night stretching on like it didn’t have an end.
Then, as if on cue, their eyes met, and it was like the world slowed down again. The air between them thickened, and suddenly everything else—everything in the city, all the noise, the distractions—vanished.
It was just them, right there, with no words needed. Their gazes held magnetic and drawn, and in that moment, neither of them pulled away. The tension between them built, and before either of them could overthink it, Love leaned in, just a fraction, then Milk followed.
The kiss was slow at first, tentative—neither of them sure if it was the alcohol, the chemistry, or something else. But then it deepened, becoming more intense, more urgent, like they were both tasting something they didn’t want to end.
Milk’s hand found its way to Love’s neck, her thumb brushing over the soft skin there, and Love shifted closer, their bodies pressing together as the kiss grew in rhythm.
It was messy in a way, but it felt real, like they were both a little unsure but didn’t want to stop. When they finally pulled apart, there was a moment of stillness, the cool air brushing their faces, both of them catching their breath. Neither of them spoke right away.
Then, Milk let out a nervous laugh, the sound escaping before she could stop it. “Well… that was… uh, unexpected,” she mumbled, her voice a little shaky.
Love blinked, a small flush spreading across her cheeks, but there was that teasing smile again. “Yeah, it was.”
They both laughed then, a little embarrassed but not pulling away from each other. The silence that followed wasn’t awkward, though—it was comfortable, like they both knew it wasn’t the end of the night. Not yet.
After a beat, Milk looked at Love, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “So, since the night hasn’t really ended yet... how spontaneous and carefree can you still be, Love?”
Love turned to her, a playful, teasing grin spreading across her face. “Oh, what are you suggesting, Milk?”
Milk just shrugged, her smile matching Love’s in its mischievousness. “I don’t know... maybe something completely ridiculous? I mean, it’s our night, right?”
Love’s grin widened, and she leaned in just a little closer. “You’re dangerous, you know that?”
Milk’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “And you’re just the kind of person I need in my life.”
Love tilted her head, the grin not leaving her face. “Alright, Milk. I’ll bite. What’s your next crazy idea?”
Milk though for a moment, her gaze flicking to the quiet street around them, then back to Love. “How about we get a tattoo?”
Love blinked, clearly caught off guard. “Wait, what? A tattoo? Right now?”
Milk nodded, her grin widening. “Yeah. Why not? It’s the perfect kind of spontaneous, right? We’re already out here, doing all this crazy stuff—what’s the harm in getting something permanent to mark the night?”
Love stared at her for a beat, unsure if she was hearing things correctly. “You’re serious?” she asked, her voice filled with disbelief, her eyebrow raised in a mix of confusion and amusement.
Milk leaned in a little, her tone dropping lower, more serious now. “Completely serious.”
For a moment, Love thought Milk was joking, but the look in her eyes—the way she said it, like it was the most natural thing in the world—told her she wasn’t.
“I don’t know,” Love said, shifting in her seat. “I mean… I don’t even know what I’d get. And don’t tattoos usually need some kind of meaning or something?”
Milk waved a hand, dismissing the concern like it was nothing. “I already have an idea of what we should get. Matching ones. A tattoo is a reminder of something you’re never going to forget. Tonight’s been crazy, and you’re right—maybe we’re not exactly thinking this through, but that’s kind of the point, isn’t it?”
Love looked at her, still skeptical but also intrigued. There was something so Milk about this—so carefree, so unafraid to dive into whatever adventure came next.
“You really want to do this?” Love asked again, her voice quieter now, more thoughtful.
Milk leaned back, stretching her arms out as if to embrace the idea. “Yeah, why not? Life’s short. Let’s get something that’ll make us remember that time we were totally reckless together.”
Love paused, biting her lip as she thought it over. The idea seemed insane, but maybe that’s exactly why it felt like it might work. There was no reason to overthink it. After all, she had been overthinking most of her life. Tonight, though? Tonight was different.
“You’re crazy,” Love muttered with a small laugh, shaking her head.
Milk smirked. “You do realize you’re talking to the girl who went insane dancing on the dance floor earlier, right? The girl who still eats meat despite being allergic to it.”
Love couldn’t help but laugh at that, the sound warm and genuine. She looked at Milk—this carefree, spontaneous force of nature—and something inside her clicked. Maybe this was the push she needed to do something out of character. To stop thinking about every consequence and just… live.
“Alright,” Love gave in, standing up with a smile that matched Milk’s in mischief. “Let’s do it.” Milk’s face lit up. “Yes! That’s the spirit! Now, let’s find a tattoo shop that’s still open.”
Love shook her head, laughing. “What have I gotten myself into?”
Milk grinned and threw an arm around her shoulder, pulling her close. “The best night of your life. Trust me.”
The two of them stood there for a moment, exchanging a look that said everything. In that instant, neither of them cared about planning or thinking ahead—they were ready to make a memory that was as unpredictable as the night itself.
“Alright,” Love said, shaking her head but smiling widely. “Let’s go get tattoos. This is going to be insane.”
Milk’s grin was the only answer she needed as they walked off into the night, ready for whatever came next.
Milk was laughing about something, her voice warm and carefree as she gestured wildly with her hands. Love couldn’t help but laugh along, even though she wasn’t entirely sure what was funny.
She felt lighter, though, in a way she hadn’t in a long time. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was just Milk’s contagious energy, but for the first time in ages, she felt completely at ease.
“So, a flower, huh?” Love asked, glancing over at Milk with an amused look. “You’re just gonna get a flower tattoo? No meaning or anything?”
Milk shrugged, her grin wide. “A flower has plenty of meaning. It’s just about finding the right one.” She glanced over at Love with a playful look in her eye.
Love rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t suppress a smile. “What kind of flower are we talking about here? A rose? A daisy? Something more exotic?”
Milk smirked, clearly enjoying the mystery. “See, you are not the only one who likes to keep things a bit mysterious. You’ll see, Love. Patience is a virtue.”
They kept walking, passing by a few more darkened storefronts until they spotted the tattoo parlor. It was small, tucked away in a corner of the street, the neon sign buzzing faintly above the door.
Milk’s eyes lit up. “There it is! This is the place.” Love took a deep breath, half-excited, half-nervous. “I still can’t believe we’re doing this.”
Milk grabbed her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “It’s gonna be awesome. Trust me. We’ll get something that means something. Even if it’s totally random.”
Once inside, the tattoo parlor was dimly lit, the air smelling faintly of ink and antiseptic. A soft hum of music played in the background, and the artist behind the counter looked up with a raised eyebrow as they walked in.
“So,” Love said, turning to Milk, “You really going with a flower, huh?” Milk nodded, her smile still a little wicked. “I don’t know which one yet, but I’m leaning toward something simple. Maybe a forget-me-not. And it’s a we, my lady.”
Love tilted her head, intrigued. “A forget-me-not? That’s… different. I thought you were all about the bold, crazy stuff.” Milk laughed lightly. “Nah, sometimes simple’s best. You know, something that lasts. A reminder.”
Love thought about it for a moment. “Yeah… I like that. A forget-me-not feels right.”
They walked over to the artist, a woman with dark, short hair and tattoos running down both arms. She looked at them, eyebrows raised. “So, you two are ready for this?”
Milk grinned. “Yep. We want matching tattoos.”
“Matching tattoos, huh?” The artist smiled, clearly used to the idea. “Any ideas?”
Milk nodded. “Forget-me-nots. I want mine right on my back shoulder.” Love glanced at Milk, a little surprised. “On your shoulder?”
Milk shrugged. “It’s a perfect spot. It’s visible, but not in your face. Plus, it’s kind of like… a symbol of something. You know? You can totally decide where to put yours, though. I’m not forcing you.”
Love smiled, though there was a slight hesitation in her eyes. Milk’s sentiment was something Love admired. “Alright. Let’s do it. I’ll have mine on my back shoulder too, the other side.”
The tattoo artist nodded, guiding them over to the chairs. Milk sat down first, rolling up her sleeve and getting comfortable as the artist set up her station. Love sat beside her, her heart beating a little faster now, excitement and nerves mixing. Milk caught her gaze and winked.
“This is happening. We’re making it official.”
Love laughed softly, glancing at Milk’s shoulder as the artist started outlining the tattoo. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
The buzzing of the tattoo needle started, and the first pricks of ink met Milk’s skin. She winced slightly but grinned through the pain. Love watched her, her own nerves fading away as the sound became strangely soothing. It was a strange kind of calm.
As the needle continued to work, Love’s gaze shifted between the artist’s skilled hands and Milk’s face, which was focused and relaxed despite the pain. There was something about this moment that felt important. Something that felt like a step forward.
After a few minutes, Milk looked over at Love, catching her gaze. There was a shared understanding between them, an unspoken agreement. Their eyes locked, and for a second, the world outside of the tattoo parlor didn’t matter at all.
They were making a pact, one that couldn’t be undone. A mark that would remind them both of this night, of something that felt like it was just beginning, even though neither of them could fully explain it yet.
Milk broke the silence first, her voice soft. “You know, Love… this feels kinda like a promise.”
Forget-me-not…
Love’s smile was small but genuine. “Yeah… it does.”
As the tattoo finished, Love felt a rush of warmth, like the ink had sealed something between them, something deeper than the skin.
When the artist was done, Milk leaned back and admired the delicate design on her shoulder—a small, intricate forget-me-not, its petals soft and detailed. Love’s was just opposite, the same flower, same size, but on her left shoulder.
They looked at each other, then back at their tattoos, both feeling like they’d just made something permanent—not just on their skin, but between them. Something they might not fully understand yet, but the connection was undeniable.
Milk stood up, grinning. “I think these are perfect. Just like tonight.”
Love nodded, the weight of the tattoo settling in. “Yeah… definitely perfect.”
As they paid and left the parlor, the night still felt fresh, full of possibility. The tattoos felt like a sign, marking the beginning of something neither of them could explain—but both of them knew it was something that would stay with them forever.
The night had a soft, bittersweet color to it now. The tattoo parlor was behind them, the ink still fresh on their skin, the excitement and thrill of the evening lingering like a sweet aftertaste of the cocktail.
They grabbed a quick bite at a small diner on the corner, sitting at a booth near the window, still laughing between bites of fries, milkshakes, and burgers.
“I still can’t believe we actually did it,” Love said between mouthfuls, grinning at Milk. “We really got tattoos. And neither of us screamed.”
Milk leaned back, poking at her fries. “Honestly, I thought you were gonna bail on me at the last minute. You seemed a little hesitant earlier.”
Love shrugged, taking a sip of her milkshake. “I guess I’m not as scared of things as I thought. And you’ve definitely got a way of pushing me to do things I normally wouldn’t.”
Milk smirked, nudging her. “Hey, I’m just here to make your life a little more interesting.”
“Definitely succeeding in that,” Love said with a laugh, shaking her head. She glanced sideways at her forget-me-not tattoo, still a little surreal. It felt like a piece of her had been marked, something permanent that would always remind her of this crazy, beautiful night.
They finished their food quickly, and as they stood to leave, there was a quiet weight in the air. Neither of them spoke right away as they walked back toward the club, the place where they’d met hours ago. The lights on the building seemed dimmer now, like even the club was winding down, ready to call it a night.
“Guess this is where it all started,” Milk uttered, her voice quieter now, almost wistful.
Love nodded, but there was a slight hesitation in her steps. “Yeah... It’s kind of strange. I didn’t expect any of this tonight. I didn’t expect you.” Milk gave a soft laugh. “Same here. But... I’m glad it happened. Glad I met you.”
They reached the entrance of the club, where the bouncers were starting to pack up, the music from inside dimming. For a moment, neither of them moved. They stood there, the cool night air brushing their skin, the quiet between them heavier now.
“Well,” Milk said softly, “I guess this is it. For tonight, anyway.” Love looked at her, her heart giving a little squeeze. “Yeah… I guess it is.”
Milk smiled a little, stepping forward and pulling her into a hug. The feel of their shared tattoo brushing against each other’s skin for a second was a reminder of everything they’d done tonight, the connection they’d made.
“This was… fun,” Milk whispered. “We’ll keep in touch, okay?” Love squeezed her tighter for a moment before pulling away, her hands still resting on Milk’s shoulders. “Yeah, definitely. We’ll meet again.”
For a second, they both just stood there, not saying anything, as if trying to hold onto the moment, trying to keep it from slipping away. But neither of them said anything else.
No phone numbers. No promises to text tomorrow.
They both knew the night had to end here. There was something about it, something beautiful in the fleeting nature of it all.
With one last look, they both turned to walk away, their feet taking them in opposite directions, like the night had done its job, and now it was time for them to go.
But as they went their separate ways, walking away from each other, already out of reach, something hit them both at the same time.
Love paused but didn’t turn back, her heart beating a little faster. “Wait,” she told to herself. “I never got Milk’s number… or anything. How are we supposed to keep in touch?”
Love was tempted to turn around, to go back and fix the moment, but something held her back. It felt natural, like this was how it was supposed to be.
Unbeknownst to her, Milk also realized it was halfway past the club. “Oh, Shit, we didn’t exchange numbers. I guess we were having so much fun that we forgot.” She let out a soft laugh, a little awkward.
But neither of them looked back. Sometimes, not knowing how things would turn out was part of the magic. Of destiny.
Though the unspoken question lingered in the air
Would they ever meet again?
Neither of them had the answer. And maybe that was the point.
The night had been perfect just the way it was.
Milk was sitting at a small cafe with her two best friends, Namtan and Earn, her voice animated as she leaned forward, recounting every detail of the wild night.
“So, we’re at the tattoo place, right? And I actually convinced her to get matching tattoos with me—like, a forget-me-not flower on our shoulders. Can you believe that?” Milk laughed, her eyes wide and filled with excitement.
Earn, who had her arms crossed, grinned. “I can totally see you doing that. You’re so convincing when you get an insane idea in your head.”
Namtan raised an eyebrow. “But… Did you at least get her number? I mean, that’s the whole point of meeting someone like that, right? A tattoo’s cool and all, but you can’t leave a night like that without keeping in touch.”
Milk froze for just a split second, her smile faltering. “Well, uh… about that.” She laughed nervously. “I guess we kind of forgot about the part. We just… let the night be what it was, you know? Sometimes, things are better left as memories.”
Namtan looked at her, raising an eyebrow. “Girl, you’re telling me you didn’t even get her number? You did all that and didn’t even ask for a way to reconnect? That’s a bit of a stupid move.”
“Hey,” Milk said, giving a dramatic shrug, “Sometimes the universe works in mysterious ways, okay?” She laughed, trying to push past the discomfort she was suddenly feeling.
“Besides, it felt right in the moment. Who knows, maybe we’ll bump into each other again. You never know, right?”
Earn snorted, clearly amused. “Right, sure. So, you’re saying you’re gonna leave it to fate? That’s so you, Milk.” She chuckled, mocking her friend. “You’re definitely the type who believes in the ‘it’ll happen when it’s meant to happen’ kinda thing.”
Milk's grin returned, though it was a little more hesitant now. “Yeah, maybe. But... I don’t know. There’s something about that night. Something that felt real, like… like we connected without needing anything more than that.”
Namtan and Earn exchanged a glance. Earn, ever the realist, just shook her head with a chuckle. “Well, at least you had fun. But next time, get the number, okay? Don’t leave a good thing hanging.”
Milk laughed again, but this time, it didn’t feel as carefree. “Yeah, yeah. Next time,” she retorted, trying to shake off the slight feeling of disappointment that had begun to settle in her chest as she brushed the tattoos on her shoulder.
Forget-me-not… in the language of flowers, it means do not forget me.
Across town, Love was sitting on her couch, the soft glow of the lamp beside her casting a warm light as she talked to her best friends, Prim and View. Both of them were leaning in, listening intently as Love spoke in her calm, almost shy voice.
“You wouldn’t believe it,” Love uttered, her fingers tapping lightly against her mug. “I met this girl—Milk. She’s... crazy. In a good way, though. She made me do all these spontaneous things I never would have done.”
Prim, always the romantic, smiled knowingly, her eyes softening. “Sounds like she made quite an impression on you.”
Love paused, glancing down at her mug, feeling a slight warmth on her cheeks. “I don’t know… There was just something about her. We connected right away. I didn’t expect to, but… I don’t know, it felt real. Intense, even. Like I could just be myself with her. No judgments. No expectations.”
View, sitting next to Prim, gave a knowing smile. “Yeah, you’re blushing, so I’d say it was more than just ‘intense.’”
Love let out a small laugh, shaking her head. “I guess it was. But we never exchanged numbers or anything. We just… left it like that. No promises. No goodbyes. Just... a hug and a shared tattoo. It feels... unfinished. Like I’m supposed to see her again, but I don’t know how or when.”
Prim’s smile widened, and she leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with a hint of excitement. “You know, Love, if it’s meant to be, it’ll happen. Like soulmates. If it’s really meant to be, you’ll see each other again. Fate works in mysterious ways.”
Love chuckled softly, but there was a flicker of something in her eyes. “Maybe. But it feels like a story without an ending. I just can’t shake the feeling that there’s more there... but maybe I’m just overthinking it.”
View, ever the optimist, nodded enthusiastically. “You’re not overthinking it, Love. I mean, think about it. You’re saying you connected with her in a way you never have with anyone else, right? That doesn’t just happen every day. Maybe you’re not meant to get her number now because you’ll meet again when the time is right.”
Love looked down at her forget-me-not tattoo, touching it gently. “I hope so,” she murmured, almost to herself. “But something about not having her number feels... odd. Like we left something half-done.”
Prim reached over and squeezed Love’s hand. “Sometimes, the best stories don’t need all the details right away. Maybe you’re meant to be apart for now, to leave it open, so the universe can bring you back together at the right moment.”
Love smiled softly at her friends, feeling comforted by their words, but a quiet part of her still longed for something more. Something that was as clear as the ink now imprinted on her shoulder. Something she wasn’t sure she could explain, but couldn’t forget, either.
“I guess you’re right,” Love said, her voice soft. “Maybe it’s just meant to be a memory for now. But I can’t help but wonder... if we’ll meet again.”
Prim and View both exchanged looks, a shared understanding between them. “If it’s meant to be,” View muttered softly, “you will.”
Love nodded, feeling a little lighter, even though the longing still lingered inside her. “Yeah... if it’s meant to be.”
As the conversation shifted to other topics, Love couldn’t shake the feeling that her story with Milk wasn’t finished yet, even if it had to remain a quiet memory for now.
Forget-me-not… in the language of flowers, it means do not forget me.
Weeks had passed since that unforgettable night, and both Milk and Love had returned to their regular lives. The memory of the spontaneous, wild evening lingered in their minds like a sweet dream, one that had faded with the passing days.
They’d both tried to move on, telling themselves it was just one of those fleeting moments—a beautiful, chaotic adventure that didn’t need an ending. It had been fun, yes, but life was calling them back.
But as fate would have it, the universe had a funny way of making sure they didn’t forget.
It was a quiet Saturday afternoon when it happened. Milk had walked into a small, cozy coffee shop—one she’d passed by a hundred times but never thought to enter.
That place was tucked away on a side street, soft music playing in the background, and the smell of freshly brewed coffee filling the air.
She stood at the counter, scanning the menu, trying to decide between a Spanish latte and a vanilla latte, when she felt it—a presence that felt oddly familiar.
She turned, her heart skipping a beat. There, sitting by the window with a book in hand, was Love.
For a moment, the world around them seemed to pause. Time slowed, and Milk’s breath caught in her throat. The ache in her shoulder where the tattoo had once burned had faded, but seeing Love again, there was a warmth, a connection that couldn’t be ignored.
It was the same feeling as that night—the same spark that made her feel alive, like everything had aligned in that single, perfect moment.
Love looked up, sensing someone’s gaze on her. Her eyes met Milk’s, and it was like the world outside melted away. The realization hit both of them at the same time.
It’s her. It’s really her.
Milk broke into a grin, unable to hide her surprise and excitement. "No way," she said, walking toward the table. "Are you—are you real? Like, are we really doing this again?"
Love’s eyes widened as she let out a soft laugh. "Milk?" she said, her voice unsure but full of disbelief. "I—this is... this is insane."
They stood there for a second, just staring at each other, both not quite sure if they were dreaming or if the universe had truly decided to throw them together once again.
“Okay, this is either a sign or the most random coincidence ever,” Milk uttered with a laugh, sitting down across from Love. “I can’t believe this. I was just thinking about you the other day—about that night. And now here we are.” She paused, shaking her head. “I don’t even know how to feel right now.”
Love smiled, her heart skipping a beat. “I know, right? I was thinking about you, too. That night... it felt like something I couldn’t just shake off. A night I couldn’t forget. But I tried to tell myself that maybe it was just one of those things, you know?”
Milk nodded, her eyes soft. “Yeah, I tried to do the same thing. But, I don’t know... I couldn’t forget either. It was like we had some kind of connection that didn’t make sense, but felt real. Does that sound crazy?”
Love laughed, the sound light and a little nervous. “No, it doesn’t sound crazy at all because I feel the same way. It felt like we were meant to meet, like... like something in the universe just clicked. But then that night ended, and I wasn’t sure if I should try to find you again or just let it be.”
Milk leaned in, her smile warm and genuine. “I think the universe was just waiting for us to figure it out on our own. I mean, here we are again, and it doesn’t feel like just some random thing, right?”
Love’s heart fluttered. “It doesn’t. It feels... right.”
They both smiled, both feeling that familiar pull toward each other. It was like no time had passed since that night—the connection was still there, strong and undeniable.
They spent the next few hours talking about everything and nothing, as if they were picking up exactly where they’d left off. They laughed about the tattoo, joked about how it hadn’t even hurt as much as they’d thought it would, and shared little details of their lives they hadn’t told each other before.
“You know,” Milk said, taking a sip of her coffee, “I never thought I’d be sitting here, talking to you again, but I’m glad I am. I’m glad we ran into each other.”
Love nodded, her gaze softening. “Me too. I’ve been thinking about it a lot, actually. How the night felt like fate. And now this—seeing you again. Maybe it was meant to happen, just like my friends told me.”
Milk’s eyes twinkled as she leaned back in her chair. “I think you’re right. I’m starting to believe in the whole ‘meant to be’ thing, just like what my friends told me too.”
She paused for a moment, then added with a grin, “And maybe that means it’s time for another spontaneous adventure. What do you think?”
Love laughed, her heart feeling lighter. “Another tattoo?” Milk winked. “Maybe. Or maybe something just as crazy.”
The conversation flowed easily from there. It was as if no time had passed since their first meeting, and they were back in that same rhythm, feeling like they had known each other for years. The connection was undeniable.
As the afternoon sun began to set, they both realized that the world had somehow found a way to bring them back together, to give them another chance. Their meeting wasn’t just a coincidence—it was a sign.
A sign that maybe, just maybe, the universe really did have a way of making soulmates find each other, no matter how much time had passed.
“So,” Love started, her voice quiet but hopeful, “What now?”
Milk smiled. “Well, we could start by actually exchanging numbers this time,” she uttered with a playful grin. “And then… see where this goes. Together. Maybe even have a date.”
“Who knows? We could revisit some of the fun things we did that night. The tattoos. The kiss,” she added with a playful smile.
Love’s cheeks turned pink, and she looked down for a moment, shy but smiling. “Maybe,” she replied softly, her voice a little uncertain but also something deeper.
Without saying anything more, Love intertwined her hand with Milk's, the simple gesture saying more than words could. Milk’s smile widened, her heart fluttering at the feeling of her hand in Love's. It was like a promise, even if they didn’t fully know what they were promising yet.
The world outside seemed to fade as they sat there, the quiet hum of the coffee shop enveloping them. Both of them, without a word, understood that whatever happened next, they wouldn’t let go. Not this time.
Forget-me-not… in the language of flowers, it means—true love.