Anthologies {MIKHAIAH AU}

please please please pt 2

The evening air was cool against their skin as they wandered through the quiet neighborhood surrounding the inn, takeaway coffee cups warm in their hands. The faint aroma of pine and earth mixed with the soft hum of crickets and the occasional flicker of laughter from nearby establishments. It was the kind of peacefulness that felt stolen—like the world had paused just for them.

Mikha walked a step ahead of Aiah, her hands shoved into her jacket pockets, her coffee balanced casually in one hand. She glanced back every so often, enough to catch Aiah skipping a little to keep up with her pace, her loose linen suit swaying with every movement. The light from the streetlamps cast a soft glow over her face, highlighting her dimples whenever she smiled, and Mikha had to look away each time, forcing her expression into something neutral. Nonchalant. As if her heart wasn't racing just watching her.

But it was impossible to stay neutral around Aiah.

"Hoy, ang tahimik mo nanaman," Aiah teased, nudging Mikha's arm playfully. She tilted her head, giving Mikha one of her signature curious looks. "Biglang nahiya? Hindi bagay sa'yo."

Mikha smirked faintly, glancing at her. "'Di ako nahihiya. Ang kulit mo lang."

"Sure ka? Mukha kang tahimik na emo kid ngayon," Aiah teased, laughing softly. "Parang ikaw yung nasa high school movie na nakaupo sa sulok, tapos ako yung cheerful popular girl na babasagin ang walls mo. May ganun kang vibes."

Mikha rolled her eyes, her lips twitching into a small smile she didn't bother hiding. "Wala akong walls."

"Meron, ano ka ba," Aiah shot back, spinning slightly in her step so she could walk backward and face Mikha. "Ang kapal pa nga minsan. Feeling ko kung itutumba ko, kailangan ko ng jackhammer."

"Drama mo," Mikha muttered, though the amusement in her tone betrayed her.

Aiah grinned, turning back around to walk beside her, her hand brushing lightly against Mikha's as they moved. It was one of those not-so-accidental touches that Aiah was so good at—so casual, so fleeting, but enough to make Mikha feel like her entire body had been set on fire.

They passed a row of small shops with warm, glowing windows, the faint scent of baked goods wafting through the air. Somewhere in the distance, faint music played, a melody that Mikha couldn't quite make out but that seemed to fit the moment perfectly. It felt like a scene from one of those rom-coms Aiah probably loved to watch.

And here I am, the dark, brooding one, Mikha thought wryly. She knew the roles they played without ever saying them out loud. Aiah was light and laughter, a whirlwind of energy and sunshine that made people gravitate toward her without even trying. Mikha? She was the shadow, the sharp edge, the one who stayed on the outside looking in.

But tonight, they walked in sync. Teasing. Flirting. Trading lingering looks that said more than either of them was willing to put into words. And for once, Mikha didn't want to pull away.

"Alam mo, Mikha," Aiah said after a moment, her voice soft but teasing. "Kung sinabi mo sa'kin dati na gagawin mo 'to, hindi ako maniniwala."

Mikha glanced at her, raising an eyebrow. "Gawin ang alin?"

"All of this," Aiah said, spinning her coffee cup in her hands as she walked. "Bring me here. Plan a trip. Book a restaurant. You're so... you. Cool, collected, hindi nag-e-effort. Pero ngayon? Biglang ganito?" She turned to Mikha, her eyes sparkling under the streetlights. "What's the catch?"

Mikha huffed out a laugh, shaking her head. "Walang catch."

"Walang catch?" Aiah repeated, pretending to look scandalized. "Ang bait mo pala minsan. Sino ka at anong ginawa mo kay Mikha Lim?"