Mic Drop Harmony (BINI_Aiah & Female!Reader Fanfiction)

CHAPTER 31 - FAMILY

A week flew by in Cebu. While spending time with Aiah's family was heartwarming, it also planted a seed of longing in your heart. You yearned for Aiah to experience the same warmth with your own family. However, mending things with your father, especially regarding your career path, felt like a hurdle you needed to clear before taking that step.

You and Aiah reached the BINI apartment. Gwen and Mikha greeted you in the living room, where they were playing with Ling-ling. The moment the cat saw you both, he bolted from Mikha's lap and launched himself into your arms. You knelt down, returning the furry affection. Ling-ling then made a beeline for Aiah, seeking snuggles against her neck.

"Hi, how was Cebu?" Mikha asked, a warm smile gracing her lips.

Aiah settled down beside her, offering a simple "Good" as she playfully attempted to tickle Ling-ling.

With a lingering thought about introducing Aiah to your family soon, you headed upstairs to Aiah's room to unpack the belongings you brought from Cebu.

The weight of your unresolved issues with your father had been gnawing at you all day. You couldn't shake the feeling that it was casting a shadow on your time with Aiah, a worry reflected in her concerned gaze.

Lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling, your thoughts remained tangled. Aiah's arms tightening around you startled you from your reverie. Her eyes fluttered open, seeking yours.

"What's bothering you, mahal?" she asked softly, her voice laced with concern. 

You opened your mouth to lie, a white lie to protect her happiness. But the words wouldn't come. Instead, a sigh escaped your lips. "It's my dad," you admitted, the weight of the unspoken words lifting slightly.

Aiah pulled you closer, her touch a silent comfort. "Why all of a sudden?" she asked, her voice gentle.

The desire for Aiah to be a part of your whole life bloomed in your chest. "I just really want you to meet them," you confessed. "I know they'd love you." 

You leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead, a silent promise.

Aiah smiled, her eyes sparkling with understanding. "Hindi naman ako nagmamadali  she said, her voice reassuring. "I can wait. As long as you're happy, I'm happy."

You and Aiah spend the night beside each other, arms wrapped around each other as you drift off to sleep, the soft scent of Aiah's hair a comforting presence.

The morning arrived, and you'd already decided to visit your family. Nervousness coiled in your stomach, your heart hammering a frantic rhythm against your ribs. You tapped your foot nervously on the porch steps, the worn wood cool beneath your sneakers. The scent of your father's heavy scented perfume hung in the air, a familiar aroma that always brought back a mix of memories: countless evenings spent studying, the comforting sound of his voice reading law journals, and the yearning for his approval that gnawed at your younger self. Taking a deep breath, you lifted your hand and knocked.

The door creaked open, revealing your father's weathered face. A flicker of surprise crossed his features before settling into a neutral mask. "Y/N," he said simply, his voice gruff.

"Hi, Dad," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. A beat of silence stretched between you, thick with unspoken emotions.

"Come in," he finally said, stepping aside to allow you entrance.

The living room hadn't changed. The worn armchair where your father spent countless evenings reading law journals still sat across from the threadbare sofa you used to share with Saoirse, where you'd curl up with novels and giggle over teenage dreams. You chose the armchair opposite him, the worn leather creaking under your weight.

"I know we haven't spoken much since…" you trailed off, searching for the right words. "Since I didn't go to law school."

Your father remained silent, his gaze fixed on you.

"Dad," you started again, taking another deep breath. "Alam kong disappointed ka. You worked so hard, sacrificed so much to give me the opportunity."

A flicker of something akin to pain crossed his face before he spoke. "It wasn't just about the opportunity, Y/N. Nakita ko ang sarili ko sa iyo. Your drive, your determination, I thought you'd be amazing in law."

Tears pricked at your eyes. You understood. It wasn't just about the career path; it was about the shared dream, the legacy you weren't fulfilling.

"Pero Dad," you continued, your voice cracking slightly, "music po talaga ang passion ko. It's not just a hobby; it's who I am. And with Reverie, we're making progress. We might not be there yet, but we're getting closer to our dream."

Silence descended again, heavy with unspoken words and years of distance. Then, your father sighed, the sound echoing in the stillness. He looked at you, his eyes filled with a mix of resignation and a flicker of something softer, maybe even pride.

"Alam mo," he began, his voice gruff but gentler this time, "your mom wouldn't have wanted you to live a life that wasn't your own."

His words hit you like a wave. You remembered your mother, her eyes sparkling with encouragement as you practiced guitar, reminding you to chase your dreams – even if they weren't the ones your father envisioned. You glanced at the doorway, wondering if Saoirse might be listening. You missed spending afternoons writing songs together, harmonizing in the messy chaos of your shared bedroom.

A tear rolled down your cheek, and you wiped it away quickly. "I miss spending time with you all, Dad. With Mom, with Saoirse."

Your father nodded, his own eyes glistening. A moment of shared longing hung in the air before he cleared his throat.

"Show me what you're working on then," he said, surprising you. "This music you're so passionate about."

You stared at him, unsure of what to say. He gestured towards the worn leather guitar case leaning against the wall.

A hesitant smile touched your lips. You stood up and picked up the case, the familiar weight grounding you. As you unlatched it, a hope bloomed in your chest. Maybe this was the beginning of rebuilding bridges – not just with your father, but with your whole family. You spent the next hour sharing your music with him, your voice filling the living room with raw emotion and unfulfilled dreams.

When the last note faded, a comfortable silence settled between you. Your father didn't say much, but the way he looked at you, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips, spoke volumes. You knew the path wouldn't be easy, but for the first time in a long time, there was a glimmer of understanding, a renewed thread of connection that stretched not just to your father, but to your entire family.