Mikha Lim.
As she walks down the aisle, she wears the smile that made my knees weak. It was the way she slowly but surely walked, her eyes scanning the room full of people—some smiling and some teary.
Suddenly, our eyes met, and she gave me a warm smile. It felt like everything stopped, and it was as if it were just the two of us.
When I entered the café, my eyes scanned the room right away. It's been four days since I last saw her, and I just can't get her out of my mind. Maybe it was the way her smile clung to me like my life depended on it. I felt my heart race as hope rushed into me, my palms sweating with nervousness.
When I didn't spot her, I felt my shoulders slump as sadness crawled over my skin. Coincidentally, the faint music in the background was 'Daylight' by Taylor Swift again. I heaved a sigh, making my way to the counter to order my cappuccino and chocolate muffin. I waited in line, standing behind the girl.
Luck of the draw only draws the unlucky
"One cappuccino and a chocolate muffin, please."
And so I became the butt of the joke
I felt my ears perk up and my knees weaken when I recognized that voice. It was her... the girl.
She's here.
"Would that be all po, ma'am?"
"Yes." She handed the barista the payment, turned to her left, and walked away. There was a little hope in me that she would notice me, but who am I for her to notice, right?
I took a step, gave the barista a half-smile, and ordered. I then swung my bag from my back to place my wallet inside and walked away when I accidentally bumped into someone.
Threw out our cloaks and our daggers because it's morning now
"Shit," I mumbled, "Sorry, are you ok—" I wasn't able to continue what I was saying when I saw who I bumped into.
It's brighter now, now
It was her.
Her cappuccino spilled all over her white long-sleeved shirt, a shade of peanut and tortilla mixed together, soaking her top. She looked at herself with sadness, and you've got to be strong not to feel guilty. The thing is, I'm not strong.
"I'm so sorry," I said genuinely, the softness in my voice clear. She looked up at me, trying to scan my face. She squinted her eyes, looking at me thoroughly.
"Oh, it's you," she said casually, as if nothing had happened.
"Um," I gulped. "Sorry?"
"The electric guitar girl from last time?"
"Oh, yes, that's me," I replied, scratching the back of my neck. I didn't really expect her to recognize me, but believe me, it made me internally scream.
"I'm so sorry about your shirt," I genuinely apologized, grabbing tissue from my bag and handing it to her. "It was clumsy of me, I wasn't looking."
When I felt her hand brush against mine, electricity pulsed through my skin. It felt like something ignited in me, making her pull at me even more, as if the electric touch wasn't enough. I was expecting her to be disappointed, but when a gentle smile spread across her face, I felt at peace. Her eyes softened, looking at me with that familiar ease.
"Relax, Merida," she replied, chuckling. I don't know what it is about her laugh or that nickname, but surely, it's attractive.
"It's fine."
"I'll lend you my jacket, here." I took off my jacket and placed it on her shoulders.
She looked so good in my jacket.
We had our chit-chat, mostly me apologizing and her reassuring me that it was okay. It could be the way she pushed a strand of her hair back whenever she talked about something, or the way she motioned with her hands as she spoke about her loving dog, that made me even more captivated by her.
Eventually, I ordered her another cappuccino and a chocolate muffin, an offering to apologize for what I did. She thanked me, and we sat at our table, just beside the stained glass window with enough sunlight to light up the room.
"So, Merida?" I asked, biting my muffin.
"Your red hair," she replied shortly with a playful tone, shrugging. I felt my eyebrows crease and tilted my head.
"Why isn't it Ariel, then?" I asked, smirking, and leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms and legs.
"Oh, right, forgot about that one," she said with a cheeky smile. "I'll call you Meriel, then."
"I don't even know your name yet, and you already have a nickname for me."
"Mallaiah, but you can call me 'Aiah'," she said casually, a smile forming on her lips.
Mallaiah... such a perfect name for you.
"Mallaiah Arceta, twenty-three, all the way from Cebu!" she said, as if announcing herself at Miss Universe. I smiled and shook my head.
The effect you have on me, Mallaiah.
"And you?" she tilted her head, leaning onto her hand. "Unless, gusto mong 'Meriel' pa rin itawag ko sa'yo."
I let out a chuckle, amusement all over my face. "Mikhael Lim."
"But you can just call me 'Mikha'."
"Okay," she replied and took another sip of her cappuccino.
"Hello, Mikha."
"Hey, Aiah."
