Unspoken

CHAPTER 2 : Between the lines

THIRD PERSON POV

Y/n sat at her usual table by the library window, her pen tapping rhythmically against her notebook. She had told herself she wouldn't think about Mikha today, but her resolve was weak. The words of the text she was supposed to be studying blurred, replaced by fleeting images of Mikha's rare smile and the way her voice carried a quiet strength.

"Hey."

The voice startled her, soft yet unmistakable. Y/n  looked up to see Mikha standing across from her, holding a cup of coffee in one hand and her book in the other.

"You don't mind if I sit here, do you?" Mikha asked, already pulling out a chair.

"N-not at all," Y/n  stammered, quickly closing her notebook. She could feel the heat rising to her cheeks.

Mikha settled into the chair, placing the book on the table. "I started reading it last night," she said, tapping the cover of All the Light We Cannot See. "You were right—it's beautiful."

Y/n  blinked, momentarily thrown. "You've already started?"

"Yeah," Mikha replied with a small laugh. "I stayed up way too late. I couldn't put it down. That chapter where the girl is navigating the city by touch—it's so vivid. Like you can feel everything she's going through."

Y/n  nodded, her nervousness giving way to excitement. "It's one of my favorite parts. The way the author writes... it's like you're right there with her. You can feel her fear, but also her strength."

"Exactly," Mikha said, her eyes lighting up. "I don't know how anyone writes like that. It's incredible."

For a moment, they sat there, lost in the shared wonder of the story. Y/n  could almost forget the ache in her chest, the unspoken feelings that hung between them like a fragile thread.

"So," Mikha said, breaking the silence. "Why do you like this book so much? I mean, you could've recommended anything, but you chose this one."

Y/n  hesitated, her fingers tracing the edge of her notebook. "It's... complicated," she admitted. "I guess I see a lot of myself in the characters. Especially the girl. She's surrounded by so much darkness, but she keeps moving forward. She finds her way even when she can't see what's ahead."

Mikha's expression softened, and for a moment, Y/n  felt exposed, as if Mikha could see the parts of her she tried so hard to hide.

"That's beautiful," Mikha said quietly. "It's not easy to keep going when everything feels overwhelming. But I guess that's what makes it meaningful, right? Finding the light, even when it's hard to see."

Y/n  swallowed the lump in her throat. "Yeah," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Mikha leaned back in her chair, a small smile tugging at her lips. "You know, I don't usually read stuff like this. Most of the time, it's sports biographies or thrillers. But this... I don't know. It's different. I'm glad you recommended it."

"I'm glad you like it," Y/n  replied, her heart aching with the bittersweet realization that this moment, as perfect as it felt, was just another fleeting chapter in their story.

Mikha glanced at her watch and sighed. "I should probably get going. Practice starts in an hour, and Coach will kill me if I'm late again."

Y/n  forced a smile, masking the disappointment that settled in her chest. "Of course. Don't let me keep you."

Mikha stood, sliding the book into her bag. "Thanks again for this, Y/n. I'll let you know when I finish it."

"Sure," Y/n  said, watching as Mikha turned to leave.

But then Mikha paused, looking back over her shoulder. "Hey, Y/n?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm glad we're friends," Mikha said, her smile warm and genuine. "You've got a way of seeing the world that's... different. It's refreshing."

Y/n's breath caught in her throat, but she managed to nod. "Thanks, Mikha. That means a lot."

As Mikha walked away, Y/n sat frozen in her seat, her heart pounding in her chest. Friends.

It wasn't what she wanted, but it was something. And for now, it would have to be enough.