Aiah stood outside Mikha's door, her heart pounding with desperation as she knocked again, each unanswered knock intensifying her anxiety. She had been standing there for what felt like an eternity, pleading for a chance to explain herself.
"Open the door, please. I'm sorry," Aiah called out, her voice trembling with the weight of everything left unsaid. She paused, listening for any sign of movement from inside, but was met with nothing but silence.
Her heart sank further, and she swallowed her pride, lowering herself to her knees right there at the doorstep.
"Aikie, please," Aiah whispered, her voice barely audible now, a mix of regret and longing. "Just let me explain."
The seconds stretched into what felt like hours, but then, just as Aiah was about to lose hope, she heard the soft click of the door unlocking.
A rush of cold air greeted her as the door slowly opened, revealing Mikha standing there, her expression a mask of cold indifference. Aiah's breath caught in her throat as she looked up from her kneeling position.
Mikha was dressed in a black compression shirt that hugged every curve and muscle of her toned body.
Aiah's eyes involuntarily trailed over the defined lines of Mikha's arms, noticing the way they looked stronger, more masculine than she remembered.
Oh my god.....parang nanunuyo lalamunan ko. Aiah thought to herself, she bit her lip softly, trying to focus, but the sight was distracting.
Finally, she forced herself to meet Mikha's gaze. The coldness in her eyes was unmistakable, but beneath that icy exterior, Aiah could see the sadness lurking just beneath the surface, a reflection of the pain she had caused.
Her voice was flat, devoid of the warmth Aiah was so used to.
"What are you doing here?" Mikha asked, her words cutting through the silence like a knife.
Aiah scrambled to her feet, trying to close the emotional distance between them. "I had to see you," she began, her voice trembling.
"If you're here to talk about you and Iñigo—" she responded, her voice laced with bitterness.
Mikha's words were abruptly silenced as Aiah closed the gap between them, her movements quick and decisive.
The kiss was soft, almost tentative, but it carried with it all the longing that they had been harboring.
When Aiah pulled away, her eyes were brimming with unshed tears. She cupped Mikha's cheek gently, her thumb brushing against her skin, tracing the soft contours of her
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Mikha looked at her for a moment before pulling her again for another kiss, this time it was hungrier, more desperate.
She quickly traced Aiah's neck that made her let out a soft moan. She then lifted Aiah's body, wrapping her legs around her hips as they headed to the bedroom.
Aiah felt her back hit the bed, Mikha hovered on top of her, she leaned closer, their lips meeting again, and her hands trailed down her curves.
"You look fucking hot in that shirt, I bet mas maganda ata kapag wala" Aiah said, smirking.
She then grabbed the hem of the shirt, lifting it over, revealing the defined abs and muscles of Mikha's torso. She bit her lip softly, her eyes wandering over the exposed skin, her fingertips grazing the softness.
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Arrows of Cupid | MikhAiah
RomanceWhen two worlds collide, everything changes. Their meeting might just shatter the walls they've built around their hearts and ignite a fire, neither saw coming. This story is a work of fiction.
