"You're the bargainer," Ling said sharply, voice cutting like ice. "Don't forget that, Rhea."
Rhea froze for half a second.
Then she shoved Ling with everything she had.
Ling staggered back a step, boots scraping against the frozen floor.
"Don't act like a saint now," Rhea snapped, tears spilling freely, anger shaking her whole body. "I came back. I came at last."
Ling laughed—short, broken, cruel. "Came back?"
Rhea's voice cracked as she screamed, "You ran."
Ling's jaw clenched so hard it looked like it might shatter. "You're insane."
Rhea pointed at her chest, then at Ling. "What did you say that day? Huh? What did you say?"
Ling didn't answer.
Rhea stepped forward despite the cold, despite the shaking. "You told them to fly off. You said it like I meant nothing. I kept running—do you know that? I didn't even know where I was going. I just kept running."
Her breath came out ragged. "And what did you do?"
Ling's eyes darkened.
"You flew away," Rhea whispered, voice breaking completely. "In your jet. Like I was already dead to you."
Ling exploded.
"Oh, don't you dare," she shouted, voice echoing off the metal walls. "Don't you dare talk about leaving when you're the one who made the deal."
Rhea flinched. "I didn't—"
"You did," Ling cut in violently. "You stood there and decided my family mattered more than me. You made the choice and then walked away like a martyr."
Rhea's hands curled into fists. "You think I wanted that?"
Ling stepped closer, towering, anger radiating off her. "You promised. You promised you wouldn't negotiate me away."
Rhea laughed hysterically through her tears. "You think I had a choice? Your family wanted it. Your father wanted it."
Ling's voice dropped, dangerous. "So you sacrificed us."
Rhea screamed, "I sacrificed myself."
The words hung between them, sharp and bleeding.
The cold deepened.
Rhea's teeth chattered uncontrollably now, but she refused to show weakness. She wiped her tears angrily. "You don't get to touch me like that," she said, glancing at Ling's grip still bruising her arm. "Not anymore."
Ling released her abruptly, like she'd been burned.
For a moment, neither moved.
Then Ling turned to the door and slammed her palm against it. Once. Twice. Hard.
It didn't budge.
Her breath came out slow, furious.
Locked.
Rhea stared at her, eyes wide—not with fear of the room, but of the situation.
"You followed me," Rhea said bitterly. "Just to trap me again?"
Ling spun around. "I followed you because you vanished."
Rhea snapped back, "Good. That's what you wanted, isn't it?"
Ling laughed again, hollow. "If I wanted you gone, you wouldn't still be ruining me."
Rhea's face twisted. "You always make it sound like I'm the weapon."
"You are," Ling said coldly. "And you know it."
Rhea stepped back, hugging herself as another wave of shivering hit. "You don't get to act hurt. You survived. You had power. You had choices."
Ling's eyes burned. "And you had me."
Rhea shook her head violently. "Not enough to stay."
Ling's voice cracked for the first time. "Not enough for you to fight."
Silence slammed into them harder than any scream.
Both stood there—stubborn, furious, wounded—breaths fogging the air, tears falling without permission.
No apologies.
No comfort.
Just two people locked in a freezing room, bleeding each other with every word, pretending hate was easier than admitting how deeply the betrayal still burned.
Ling turned on the door like it was an enemy.
She slammed her palm into the steel once—then again—hard enough that the sound cracked through the freezer room like a gunshot.
"Open the damn door," Ling shouted, voice raw, no control left. "Open it."
She hit it again. Her knuckles split instantly, blood blooming red against the silver surface, stark and ugly.
Rhea's breath hitched in terror.
"Are you insane?" Rhea screamed, rushing forward and grabbing Ling's arm with both hands. "You're hurting yourself—stop it!"
Ling tried to yank free, fury blazing. "Let go."
"No!" Rhea pulled harder, nails digging into Ling's sleeve. "You don't get to bleed like this and call it strength."
Ling twisted sharply, dragging Rhea with her momentum.
Rhea snapped.
She surged forward and hit the door herself, palm colliding with metal in a reckless, furious strike.
The sound echoed.
Ling froze.
Then she spun and grabbed Rhea's wrist hard, fingers crushing bone, yanking her back violently.
"And what the hell are you doing now?" Ling snarled, eyes wild. "Trying to copy me?"
Rhea laughed through tears, breath coming out in broken gasps. "Maybe I learned it from you."
Ling's grip tightened. "You don't get to act like this."
"Oh, really?" Rhea screamed back, yanking uselessly against Ling's strength. "You slammed doors, walls, people—your whole life—but the second I lose control, suddenly I'm wrong?"
Ling stepped closer, towering, their faces inches apart. "You don't get hurt. That's the rule."
Rhea's eyes blazed. "You don't get to decide rules anymore."
Silence slammed between them—thick, suffocating.
The cold crept deeper, numbing Rhea's legs, her fingers trembling violently now. She refused to show it.
"You left," Rhea said suddenly, voice sharp with accusation. "You don't get to corner me now like I owe you something."
Ling scoffed bitterly. "I left because you sold us."
Rhea flinched like she'd been struck.
"Say it again," Rhea whispered dangerously.
Ling didn't hesitate. "You bargained me away."
Rhea shoved Ling's chest hard. "I saved your family."
Ling staggered half a step, then laughed—low, vicious. "And killed us."
Rhea's voice broke. "I chose life."
"You chose control," Ling shot back. "You made a deal and walked away thinking it made you noble."
Rhea screamed, "I walked away because staying would've destroyed everything!"
Ling leaned down into her space, eyes burning. "It already did."
They stood there shaking—anger, cold, grief, obsession tangled so tightly neither could breathe.
Rhea's teeth chattered now, uncontrollable. Ling noticed. Of course she did.
Her jaw tightened, hatred sharpened deliberately to hide instinct.
"Stop shaking," Ling snapped. "Pathetic."
Rhea laughed weakly. "See? There it is. That's why I ran."
Ling's eyes flickered—just for a second.
Then the mask slammed back down.
"You ran because you're weak," Ling said cruelly. "You always run when it hurts."
Rhea tears spilled instantly. "I hate you," she sobbed.
Ling grabbed her wrist again—not gently, not comfortingly—tight, possessive, furious.
"No, you don't," Ling said quietly. "You wouldn't be freezing in a locked room with me if you did."
Rhea tried to pull away, voice breaking. "Let go."
Ling didn't.
The door stayed locked.
Blood stained steel.
Cold wrapped around them.
They stood inches apart, breathing each other in like poison, pretending hatred could erase obsession—
knowing neither of them believed it for a second.