we were never really friends : a mikhaiah au

nine

FLASHBACK

Mikha sat alone at the dimly lit bar, the clinking of glasses and distant chatter blending into a muffled background. Each sip of her drink seemed to intensify the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside her. Thoughts of Aiah consumed her mind, refusing to be drowned out by the numbing effects of alcohol. The weight of unspoken words and hidden feelings pressed down on her chest, making it hard to breathe.

With trembling hands, Mikha reached for her phone, her vision slightly blurred as she scrolled through her contacts. She found Aiah's name and hesitated, her thumb hovering over the call button. It was late, and she knew Aiah might already be asleep, but the need to confess gnawed at her insides with relentless urgency. The longing to tell Aiah the truth, to release the burden she had been carrying for so long, became unbearable.

Pressing the call button felt like a plunge into uncertainty, a leap into the unknown depths of her own heart. The phone rang, each ring echoing like a countdown to a moment she couldn't take back. Finally, Aiah's voice cut through the haze of Mikha's thoughts.

"Aiah?" Mikha's voice was husky, betraying both the alcohol and the rawness of her emotions.

"Yeah, Mikha? Are you okay?" Aiah's concern was immediate, her voice a lifeline in the darkness of Mikha's turmoil.

"I... I need to tell you something," Mikha slurred slightly, struggling to form coherent words.

Aiah listened intently, sensing the weight behind Mikha's words, the unspoken turmoil that threatened to spill over. Her own heart raced, knowing deep down what Mikha might confess.

"I... I like you, Aiah," Mikha finally blurted out, her voice cracking with emotion. "I've liked you for so long. More than just... just friends."

Aiah's breath caught in her throat, her chest tightening with a mix of surprise and a twinge of something she couldn't quite name. Mikha's confession, vulnerable and raw, hung in the air between them, shattering the fragile balance of their unspoken feelings.

"Mikha..." Aiah's voice faltered, her mind racing as she struggled to process the weight of Mikha's words. She had sensed the tension between them, the unspoken yearning beneath their friendship, but hearing Mikha lay it bare in such a vulnerable state left her speechless.

"I know it's... it's complicated," Mikha continued, her voice wavering. "But I can't stop thinking about you. I've tried, but I... I just can't."

Aiah listened in silence, her heart aching for Mikha's pain, for the tangled web of emotions they found themselves caught in. She wanted to reach through the phone, to hold Mikha close and promise her that everything would be alright, but she knew it wasn't that simple.

"I'm sorry, Aiah," Mikha whispered, tears welling up in her eyes. "I didn't mean to... to burden you with this. I just... needed to tell you."

Aiah closed her eyes, tears slipping down her cheeks as she struggled to find the right words, the words that could mend what was breaking between them. "Mikha, you're not a burden. Never."

"I should go," Mikha murmured, her voice small and defeated. "I'm sorry for... for bothering you."

"No, Mikha," Aiah said firmly, her voice catching with emotion. "You're not bothering me. Please, don't apologize."

There was a heavy silence on the line, both of them lost in their thoughts, grappling with the weight of what had been said and left unsaid. Aiah held onto the phone tightly, her heart pounding in her chest, wanting desperately to bridge the distance between them.