Anthologies {MIKHAIAH AU}

we can't be friends pt 3

Weeks passed, and the two of them settled into a rhythm that felt natural, effortless. There were no awkward conversations about defining what they were, no pressure to put a label on it. They simply... were. Mikha and Aiah, together. They texted constantly throughout the day, met up for casual dinners, stayed in watching movies, and sometimes spent the night tangled in each other's arms. Their lives were now undeniably intertwined, but neither of them felt the need to rush toward something more concrete.

Mikha liked it this way. It felt steady, like they were building something without forcing it. She didn't need to call Aiah her girlfriend to know what they had was real, and Aiah seemed content with their unspoken understanding.

But the universe—or rather, their friends—had a way of shaking things up.

One Friday night, Sheena, Colet, Stacey, and the rest of their usual group decided that it was high time they all went out.

"Club night, guys!" Sheena announced in their group chat, followed by a series of dancing emojis. "Matagal na tayong walang proper gimik. Kailangan natin magsaya!"

Mikha hesitated at first. Clubbing wasn't really her thing, but Aiah's immediate "Game!" in the chat made her reconsider. After all, how could she say no to Aiah?

The club was packed and pulsing with energy when they arrived. Neon lights flashed across the walls, music thumped through the speakers, and the air was thick with the smell of sweat and alcohol. Mikha found herself clutching Aiah's hand as they navigated through the crowd to meet their friends, a gesture that felt so natural now that she didn't even think twice about it.

"Drinks muna tayo!" Colet declared, dragging the group toward the bar.

Within minutes, they were all holding colorful cocktails, clinking glasses to yet another chaotic night together. The alcohol loosened everyone up quickly, and soon, they were on the dance floor, laughing and swaying to the music.

Mikha was never much of a dancer, but Aiah? Aiah moved like she belonged on the dance floor, her body swaying effortlessly to the beat. Mikha couldn't take her eyes off her—how her hair caught the flashing lights, how her dress hugged her frame, how she smiled and laughed with abandon.

"Halika na!" Aiah called out, grabbing Mikha's hand and pulling her deeper into the crowd.

"Hindi ako marunong sumayaw!" Mikha protested, though she couldn't help but laugh.

"Wala namang pake dito kung magaling ka o hindi," Aiah said, her voice warm and teasing. "Just feel the music!"

Mikha tried, and with Aiah's hands guiding her, it became easier to let go. The music pounded through her chest, and the alcohol buzzing in her veins made her bolder, freer. She let herself move to the rhythm, let herself get lost in the way Aiah's hands lingered on her hips, the way her laughter rang above the music.

And then, somewhere in the chaos of lights and sound, it happened.

Aiah turned to face Mikha, her eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine. For a moment, the world seemed to narrow to just the two of them. The crowd melted away, the music dimmed, and all Mikha could focus on was Aiah—the way her lips curved into the faintest smile, the way her gaze dropped ever so briefly to Mikha's mouth before meeting her eyes again.

Mikha didn't think; she just moved. Or maybe Aiah did. Either way, their lips met, and it was electric.

The kiss started soft, tentative, like they were testing the waters, but it quickly deepened as Mikha slid her arms around Aiah's neck, pulling her closer. Aiah's hands rested firmly on Mikha's waist, anchoring her as they lost themselves in the moment.