Youth [MikhAiah] [Book #1]

18

—🐶🦊—

The morning sun filters into Aiah's room, casting soft, golden rays across her bed. With a sleepy grin, she grabs her phone, opening her dump account. It's been a week since she and Mikha started dating, and she can't help but feel a giddy warmth spreading through her. Without thinking too much, she types out a quick tweet.

"oh to be in love."

It's vague, just enough to hint at her current mood without giving away any specifics. Aiah's friends—Stacey, Maloi, and Sheena—are mutuals on this account, and as expected, it doesn't take long for the notifications to start rolling in.

Aiah bites her lip, trying to suppress a laugh. She types back quickly, trying to play it cool.

Aiah puts her phone down, shaking her head as she laughs to herself. She's not ready to share her secret just yet, especially not when it's this new and thrilling. Her laughter only grows when she imagines the three of them huddled together, trying to dissect every word of her tweet as if it's some kind of mystery to be solved.

Just then, two arms snake around her waist from behind, pulling her into a warm backhug. Mikha presses a soft kiss to Aiah's cheek, her breath warm against her skin. "Ano nanaman tinatawanan mo?" Mikha asks, her voice soft and teasing.

Aiah leans back into Mikha's embrace, her smile widening. "Eto, inaasar ko lang sila Maloi." she says, turning slightly to give Mikha a playful look. "Hindi ko naman inaasahan na ganun sila magrereact."

Mikha chuckles, resting her chin on Aiah's shoulder. "Let them guess na lang."

Aiah nods, savoring the moment. Mikha's presence is comforting, and she feels a surge of happiness knowing that they're in this little secret together. She breaks free from Mikha's hold with a soft pat on her hand. "Let's finish this food before it burns," she suggests, moving back to the stove where she's been making hot chocolate.

Mikha heads over to the kitchen table, setting out plates and utensils while the lasagna continues to bake. The two move around the kitchen with an easy rhythm, chatting lightly about the small things—Mikha's royal duties, Aiah's work at the café, and their plans for future dates. They're so wrapped up in their little world that neither notices Aiah's phone lighting up again on the counter, the screen buzzing with an onslaught of messages from her friends.

Aiah, blissfully unaware of the incoming storm, focuses on perfecting the hot chocolates, topping them with a swirl of whipped cream and a dusting of cocoa powder. Mikha, too, is caught up in her own tasks, preparing a small salad to go with their meal. The cozy domesticity feels perfect—like a snippet of normal life, away from prying eyes and royal obligations.