32 GB - Mikhaiah Fanfiction

18 - What is this?

Cebu City - May 14, 2024

The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow on the room. I blinked awake, unfamiliar softness surrounding me. For a moment, I couldn't place where I was—then I remembered. I was in her bed. She'd insisted I sleep beside her last night, saying it was too hot for me to sleep on the couch. Now, here I was, lying beside her, though not quite close enough to touch.

I turned my head slowly, and there she was—Micah, still asleep, her face peaceful, framed by the gentle spill of her hair. My chest tightened. It was strange, how easily I'd accepted this arrangement, even though it felt foreign. But Micah had insisted so casually, and the heat had been unbearable on that couch.

I shifted slightly, trying not to make a sound, but Micah stirred anyway. Her eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, she looked at me, still half-dreaming. Then, as if realizing just how close we were, she quickly averted her gaze, a soft blush rising to her cheeks. That shyness again. It had been there before, but now, in the quiet of the morning, it felt even more noticeable.

"Morning," I whispered, unsure why my own voice felt so uncertain.

"Morning," she replied softly, still avoiding my eyes. She sat up slowly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, and glanced toward the window, as if trying to find something else to focus on.

I could feel the tension, thick in the air between us. Micah had been acting differently lately—softer, more hesitant, and those moments where she touched me—her fingers grazing my arm, a gentle pat on my back—those lingered. It wasn't the way women were with each other in my time. It made me feel... uneasy, but not in a bad way. Just different.

"You, uh, sleep okay?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes," I answered, though the truth was I had woken up several times throughout the night, hyper-aware of her presence beside me. But I couldn't bring myself to say that out loud.

Micah nodded, her eyes still avoiding mine. I could see her fingers fiddling with the edge of the blanket, her nervous energy palpable. It was odd, this tension. I had shared spaces with friends before, but this... this was something else. It felt like we were on the verge of something, but I didn't know what. Though.. I mean.. in the end I was to her a lunatic saying she was lost in time.

After a moment, I decided to break the silence. "You're quiet this morning," I said softly, hoping to ease the strange atmosphere.

She glanced at me, then quickly away again, her face flushing a little deeper. "I... I guess I am," she murmured. "I'm just... thinking."

"About what?" I asked, though I wasn't sure I wanted to hear the answer.

"Nothing," she replied quickly, her voice tight. Then, after a moment, she sighed. "I don't know. It's... it's just been a lot lately, you know?"

I didn't know, not exactly, but I could sense it—the weight of something unsaid between us.

I shifted in the bed, trying to put some space between us, though it didn't help much. "Well," I said quietly, the words feeling strange on my tongue, "at least it's cooler in here."

Micah let out a small laugh, though it sounded nervous, like she wasn't sure how to respond. "Yeah," she said, glancing at the air conditioner. "I guess that's one good thing about modern life."

I nodded, but my thoughts were elsewhere—on the way her voice softened when she spoke to me, the way she seemed nervous around me in a way that made my heart race.

As I lay there, staring at the ceiling, the soft hum of the air conditioner filling the room, I couldn't shake this strange feeling from my chest. It had started small—barely a whisper in my thoughts—but now, it was growing louder, more persistent.

Micah was kind, of course. Patient with me, showing me how to navigate this world I didn't belong in. But that didn't explain this unease gnawing at me. It wasn't fear—at least, not the kind of fear I was used to. It was something else, something deeper, more confusing.

In my time, women didn't... do this. There was always a clear boundary. Friendships were friendships, and anything more than that? It simply wasn't something I could ever consider. It wasn't even a thought that crossed our minds. But here I was, lying beside her, feeling things I had no name for. Things I didn't understand.

I glanced at her from the corner of my eye. She was sitting up now, fiddling with her hair, avoiding my gaze in that shy, hesitant way she'd been doing lately. Her cheeks were a little pink, and her lips pressed together like she was holding back words. I noticed the way my heart beat faster when she looked away from me, like I wanted her attention but feared what might happen if I got it.

Why?

Why did I keep thinking about the little moments—the touch of her hand when she showed me how to work the camera, the way her laughter sounded when she explained something new? It wasn't supposed to feel like this.

Back home, I had suitors, men who courted me with flowers and letters. But I never paid much attention, too wrapped up in my work as a teacher. I told myself I didn't have time for romance, for the distractions of marriage and family. But now, lying beside Micah, I realized it wasn't just the lack of time. It was the lack of feeling.

I shifted in bed, trying to get comfortable, but the thoughts wouldn't leave me. Was this how it felt when people... fell for each other? Was this what I'd been avoiding all my life? But no—this wasn't possible. Women didn't fall for other women. Not where I came from. Not in 1959.

I swallowed hard, feeling a lump form in my throat. Micah didn't know what was going through my mind, and I couldn't let her find out. I wasn't even sure myself. Maybe this was just loneliness, the result of being stranded in a time that wasn't my own. Maybe I was confusing gratitude with something else, something dangerous.

But even as I tried to rationalize it, I knew. Deep down, I knew that whatever this was, it wasn't just gratitude. It was something much more complicated, and it terrified me.

I was afraid. Afraid of these feelings I had no name for, and afraid of what they might mean for us. What if Micah felt the same? What if she didn't? What if I was wrong about everything, and this was just in my head?

I closed my eyes, forcing myself to breathe slowly, trying to calm the racing thoughts. I couldn't let this get out of hand. I couldn't let these feelings, whatever they were, ruin the strange, delicate connection we had. Micah was helping me, guiding me through a world I didn't understand. I couldn't jeopardize that because of... this.

But no matter how much I tried to push the thoughts away, they lingered. A constant, quiet hum at the back of my mind. And I didn't know how much longer I could ignore it.