Bini Imagines or AU's

Mikhaloi

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The gym echoed with the sounds of sneakers squeaking on the polished floor, volleyballs hitting the ground, and the shouts of the players calling out to each other. Maloi sat on the bleachers, slightly removed from the action, her sketchpad balanced on her lap. The smell of gym air mixed with the faint scent of wood polish lingered around her, but she was in her own world, focused solely on the lines of her drawing.

She sighed softly, erasing and refining her strokes as her pencil danced across the paper. Her concentration was sharp, and nothing could break her focus—at least, that's what she thought.

"Watch out!" a voice suddenly shouted, breaking her reverie.

Before she could react, a volleyball slammed into the side of her head. She winced at the impact, her hand instinctively moving to rub the spot as she groaned.

"Oh my god, Mal! Are you okay?" a familiar voice called out, this time closer, sounding more worried.

Maloi blinked, raising her gaze from her sketchpad. Standing before her, dressed in her volleyball gear, was none other than Mikhaela "Mikha" Lim, her best friend and the volleyball team's captain. Mikha's red hair was tied in a messy bun, strands sticking out from the intensity of practice. Despite the situation, Mikha had a slight smirk tugging at her lips.

Maloi shot her an annoyed look, though the irritation in her eyes was more playful than serious. Mikha chuckled softly before tossing the ball back to one of her teammates, who was standing by, watching the exchange curiously.

"Go on, keep practicing," Mikha instructed her teammate casually, turning her attention fully to Maloi.

Instead of going back to the court, Mikha sat down beside her on the bleachers, her body still slightly sweaty from practice but uncaring as she plopped down next to Maloi. For a moment, the two girls sat in comfortable silence, the sounds of the ongoing volleyball practice filling the background. Maloi's attention went back to her sketchpad, though she could feel Mikha's eyes on her.

"Why are you here?" Maloi whispered after a moment, still sketching but unable to hide a small smile. "Shouldn't you be on the court with your team?"

Mikha pouted slightly, leaning in closer to Maloi, as if trying to guilt-trip her with her sad expression. "Eh, you weren't talking to me. I thought you were mad because the ball hit you," she said, her voice taking on a playful whine.

Maloi's eyes softened as she reached up, ruffling Mikha's red hair gently. "I'm fine, Mikhs. Just a bit surprised, that's all," she reassured her, her tone light. "Now go back to your game. You still have practice to finish."

Mikha shook her head stubbornly, a sly smile creeping onto her face. "Not until you stop ignoring me," she teased, leaning her shoulder against Maloi's, clearly not planning on moving any time soon.

Maloi sighed, but a glimmer of amusement flickered in her eyes. She leaned in closer, lowering her voice as she adopted a more serious tone. "It's either you finish your practice... or we're not visiting the park later," she warned.

Mikha's eyes widened dramatically, the playful spark in her expression replaced with mock horror. "No park?" she repeated, as if that were the worst thing she'd ever heard.

In an instant, Mikha was on her feet, clapping her hands loudly and calling out to her teammates. "Alright, guys, let's get back to work! No slacking!" she commanded with renewed energy, as if her earlier reluctance had completely vanished.

Maloi couldn't help but shake her head, laughing quietly at her best friend's sudden enthusiasm. She watched as Mikha seamlessly fell back into the rhythm of practice, guiding her team with precision and passion. For a moment, Maloi let herself get lost in the sight, admiring Mikha's determination, her strong posture, the way she moved so naturally on the court. It was moments like this when Maloi's heart swelled with a quiet affection that was more than just friendly admiration.

Her eyes drifted back to her sketchpad, and she smiled softly at the portrait she had been working on. It was a detailed, realistic drawing of Mikha in action, mid-spike, her expression focused and fierce. It captured everything Maloi loved about Mikha—the strength, the confidence, the quiet grace she carried with her both on and off the court.

Later that evening, after practice, the two girls found themselves at the park, just as promised. The evening air was cool and refreshing, a perfect contrast to the heat of the gym earlier. They had laid out a blanket under the shade of a large tree, a peaceful spot where they could unwind.

Mikha was stretched out, her head resting comfortably on Maloi's lap as she flipped through a book Maloi had recommended. Her red hair was still damp from the quick shower she had taken after practice, and the dim light of the sunset cast a soft glow across her relaxed features.

Maloi sat quietly, her own book in hand, though she wasn't reading it at the moment. Instead, she found herself glancing down at Mikha, a fond smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

Mikha, feeling thirsty, sat up and reached for her water bottle, only to find it empty. "I finished my drink already," she mumbled, before spotting Maloi's water bottle nearby. She picked it up, about to take a sip, when her eyes landed on Maloi's sketchpad, which had been left slightly open.

Curiosity piqued, Mikha flipped the cover open and was greeted by a stunning, detailed portrait of herself—playing volleyball, just as she had been earlier that day. The strokes were so precise, so full of life, that it almost felt like a photograph. Mikha stared at it for a moment, her heart swelling with a mix of pride and affection.

"It seems like... you really were paying attention, huh?" Mikha said teasingly, her voice soft as she held the sketchpad up for Maloi to see.

Maloi's eyes widened in surprise as she realized Mikha had seen the drawing. Her cheeks flushed a deep pink, and she quickly looked away, embarrassed by the sudden attention. "It's nothing," she mumbled, fidgeting slightly as if she wanted to disappear from the moment.

Mikha smiled warmly, placing the sketchpad aside before leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to Maloi's cheek. "It's not nothing," she whispered, her lips brushing against Maloi's skin. "It's beautiful... just like you."

Maloi turned to face Mikha, her heart pounding in her chest as she met her best friend's—no, her girlfriend's—gaze. Mikha's eyes were filled with an affection so deep, it made Maloi's blush intensify.

Mikha leaned in again, this time pressing her lips to Maloi's in a sweet, lingering kiss. When she pulled away, she rested her forehead against Maloi's, their breaths mingling in the quiet evening air.

"I'm so lucky to have you," Mikha whispered, her voice soft and full of sincerity.

Maloi smiled, her heart feeling lighter than it had all day. "I'm lucky too, Mikhs," she replied, her fingers gently running through Mikha's damp red hair.

And in that moment, with the world fading away around them, it was just the two of them—best friends, girlfriends, and soulmates, sharing a love that felt as natural as breathing.

*Requested*