Youth [MikhAiah] [Book #1]

32

Trigger Warning!

Mentions of blood.

——

Flames flicker at the edges of the van's frame, small at first, but growing as the fire begins to hungrily consume the vehicle. Mikha's car has spun out from the impact, slamming into a streetlamp with enough force to throw her forward. Her head hits the steering wheel.

When she comes to, her body aches, her head pounding. Blood drips from a gash on her temple, painting her vision red as it drips onto her cheeks. She groans, pushing against the seatbelt, struggling to free herself. Her car is upside down, the metal twisted and broken around her. The smell of gasoline fills the air, and the crackling of fire sends a spike of panic through her chest.

But there's no time to care about her injuries.

Aiah.

Aiah is still in the SUV.

With a desperate shout, Mikha kicks the cracked windshield, crawling out of the wreckage, her steps uneven as she stumbles toward the SUV, which is now smoking. The heat from the growing fire licks at her skin, but she ignores it.

The prince doesn't hesitate. She runs to the SUV, gripping the handle, but it's locked. Panic surges through her, and she begins slamming her fists against the window, desperate to break it open.

"No... No, no, no!" she cries, her voice breaking with each word. She pounds the glass harder, her hands bloodied and shaking.

"AIAH!"

"AIAH!"

Her voice cracks, the desperation laced into every scream. "AIAH!"

Her hands continue to bleed from the effort, her knuckles raw from the impact, but she doesn't stop. Tears blur her vision, mixing with the blood dripping from her head.

The thought of Aiah trapped inside, terrified and hurt, fuels her every movement. She can't bear it—the idea of Aiah suffering because of her. Because she failed to protect her. She won't let it happen.

She can't.

"Please, no!" Mikha cries again, her voice raw as she pulls at the door handle, her nails digging into the metal. The flames roar louder, threatening to engulf the SUV. Tears mix with the blood on her face, streaking down in messy lines as her breathing becomes ragged, panic tightening its grip around her chest.

Behind her, distant shouts echo—her cousins and civilians gathering around. Juno's voice cuts through the chaos, but it barely registers.

"Mikha, get away! The car's going to explode!"

It's all white noise to her. She keeps smashing the window, her heart pounding in terror. "AIAH!"

Then, from behind her, she hears a voice.

"Mikha Lim!"

She freezes, her breath catching in her throat. Slowly, she turns, her bloodied hand falling limply to her side.

There, standing just behind her, is Aiah. Awake.

Alive.

For a moment, Mikha can't believe it. Her mind is still in survival mode, adrenaline rushing through her veins, but seeing Aiah there, safe and real, breaks through the haze. Aiah's face is filled with a mix of concern and disbelief, her eyes locked onto Mikha's bruised and bleeding form.

"Aiah..." Mikha whispers, her voice trembling as the realization washes over her. She staggers back, nearly losing her balance as relief surges through her like a wave. She wants to run to her, to hold her and never let go, but her body is weak, her injuries catching up with her.

Relief floods Mikha's entire body, and the weight that has been crushing her chest finally lifts. Her legs nearly give out beneath her, and she stumbles forward, tears filling her eyes as she reaches for Aiah.

Aiah rushes forward, closing the distance between them in an instant. She grabs Mikha's shoulders, her grip firm but gentle as she steadies the prince. "Yung ulo mo, Mikha!" Aiah's voice is laced with worry, her eyes scanning Mikha's injuries.

Mikha can only nod weakly, her breath hitching as she meets Aiah's gaze. She can still feel the heat of the flames behind her, the remnants of her panic clinging to her like a shadow. But as she looks into Aiah's eyes, the terror that gripped her heart slowly begins to ease.

"You're okay..." Mikha whispers, her voice trembling with emotion. "You're okay..."

Aiah steps closer, her concern deepening. "Miks, your head... you're hurt."

Aiah shakes her head, tears glistening in her eyes as she pulls Mikha into a tight embrace. "Sira ka talaga," she whispers, her voice breaking.

Mikha doesn't care. She wraps her arms around Aiah, pulling her close, her body shaking with the intensity of the moment. For now, nothing else matters. Not the flames, not the wreckage, not Marc.

Mikha lets out a shaky laugh, the sound mingling with a sob. "I... I didn't care. I just needed to get to you." She leans into Aiah's touch, feeling the warmth of her arms, the solid reassurance of her presence. It's all she needs, all she's ever wanted. "Nasugatan ka ba? Sinaktan ka ba nila?"

Aiah pulls back slightly, her hands cupping Mikha's face as she gently wipes away the tears and blood. "Just a bruise," Aiah whispers, her voice firm and filled with a quiet strength.

Mikha nods, swallowing hard as she clings to Aiah, finally allowing herself to breathe. She knows they aren't out of danger yet, but she doesn't care. Let the media take pictures of her. Let them. Her father's wrath is still a looming threat, but in this moment, none of it matters. She has Aiah, and that is enough.

Aiah's thumb brushes against Mikha's cheek, wiping away the last traces of blood. "Dali," she says softly, her voice steady as she offers Mikha a small, reassuring smile. "Umalis na tayo rito."

Before they can move, Juno and Colet appear from the crowd, rushing toward them. They pull Mikha and Aiah away from the SUV, the flames now engulfing the vehicle entirely.

"Dalian niyo!" Colet shouts, her grip strong on Mikha's arm as she yanks her back from the growing fire.

Juno steadies Aiah, his eyes filled with relief and concern. "You're both alive. Thank God."

Together, they stumble away from the wreckage, just as the SUV explodes in a deafening roar, the flames lighting up the night sky. The heat washes over them, but they're safe. For now.

Mikha clutches Aiah's hand, her grip tight, as they walk away from the flames, the chaos fading behind them. For the first time in a long time, Mikha feels a flicker of hope—hope that maybe, just maybe, they can find their way through the chaos, as long as they have each other.

And that's all Mikha needs to keep fighting.