Unspoken

CHAPTER 21 : Beyond the rust

THIRD PERSON POV

The evening unfolded like a series of candid snapshots: laughter over rigged carnival games, Y/n's triumphant cheer when she finally won a tiny plush fox, and Mikha's playful complaints about her shocking lack of aim at the dart booth.

"Wow, volleyball star Mikha Lim couldn't aim on darts," Y/n teased, her grin wide as she leaned against the booth, arms crossed.

Mikha narrowed her eyes at Y/n, though the corner of her mouth twitched in amusement. "That game was totally rigged," she said, holding up her hand in a mock defensive gesture. "The darts were off-center, the target was too small... it's practically impossible."

Y/n raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. "Mikha, you can spike a ball across a court, but you can't hit a big, stationary target?"

"I mean, the dart wasn't cooperating," Mikha continued, adopting an exaggerated serious tone. "It had a vendetta against me."

Y/n laughed, shaking her head.

After that game, they wandered through every corner of the fairground, soaking up the chaotic joy around them. Mikha insisted on sampling all the street food she could spot—tangy skewers, crispy fried dumplings, and a vibrant slushie that turned her tongue a startling shade of blue. Y/n watched her with amused fondness, opting for safer choices herself, though she couldn't resist giggling at Mikha's dramatic critiques of each bite.

"I swear, this dumpling is at least 90% oil," Mikha announced, holding the offending snack at arm's length.

"Still eating it, though," Y/n teased, arching an eyebrow.

Mikha shrugged, popping the rest into her mouth. "I'm nothing if not committed to my food experiments."

The playful banter carried them well into the night, the fairground gradually transforming as the crowd thinned. The rowdy laughter gave way to softer conversations, and the warm glow of the carousel lights painted the scene in shades of nostalgia.

As they strolled aimlessly, Y/n hugged the plush fox to her chest, a gentle smile playing on her lips. Mikha walked beside her, hands casually tucked into her jacket pockets, her gaze flicking occasionally toward Y/n as if to check that she was still there.

Their meandering brought them to the base of the Ferris wheel, its towering frame silhouetted against the star-speckled sky. Rusted and creaking faintly in the breeze, the ride looked like it had been plucked straight out of another time.

Y/n tilted her head back, her wide eyes tracing the arcs of the wheel. "We're not actually going on that, are we?" she asked, her voice a mix of awe and skepticism.

Mikha leaned against one of the support beams, her smirk growing. "What, scared already?"

"Not scared," Y/n shot back, crossing her arms. "Just... cautious. That thing looks like it could collapse at any second."

Mikha laughed, but there was a reassuring softness in her voice, echoing gently in the quiet night. "It's okay, Y/l/n. You're with me. Nothing's going to happen."

Y/n narrowed her eyes suspiciously, but deep down, she felt Mikha's comforting warmth.

Instead of waiting for an answer, Mikha strode toward the rickety wooden steps leading to one of the Ferris wheel's passenger carts. She stopped halfway up, her fingers brushing against the weathered railing before turning back. A daring yet playful glint lit up her eyes as she extended a hand toward Y/n. "Come on. You trust me, don't you?"

Y/n hesitated, eyeing the creaking structure. Her heart raced as a thousand scenarios—most of them involving the wheel collapsing—flashed through her mind. But then she saw Mikha's outstretched hand, her steady gaze full of quiet confidence, and all the doubts seemed to fade.

With a resigned sigh, Y/n took Mikha's hand and followed her up the steps. The wood groaned under their weight, and Y/n tightened her grip on the railing, muttering under her breath, "This better not be the last dumb thing I do."

Mikha grinned as she helped Y/n into the cart. "You'll thank me later."

The cart swayed slightly as they settled in, their shoulders brushing in the narrow space. Y/n instinctively gripped the edge of her seat while Mikha leaned back, gazing out at the distant horizon.

"Why did you bring me here?" Y/n asked after a moment, her voice quieter now.

Mikha was silent for a beat, her gaze softening as she spoke. "When I was a kid, I used to pass by this place all the time. My parents would never let me come here—it was already abandoned back then—but I always thought it looked... magical. Like it was waiting for someone to bring it back to life."

Y/n turned to her, surprised by the vulnerability in Mikha's tone. Mikha wasn't someone who opened up easily, and hearing this side of her felt... special.

"And now?" Y/n asked, her voice gentle.

Mikha smiled, her gaze still fixed on the horizon. "Now, I guess I wanted to share it with someone who could see it the way I do." Mikha admitted, her eyes finally meeting Y/n's. "Someone who doesn't just see the rust and the cracks but the magic underneath."

Y/n felt her cheeks heat, her heart skipping at the intensity of Mikha's gaze. For a moment, she didn't know what to say.

"Even if it's broken, it still has its own kind of beauty," she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Mikha's smile deepened, genuine and tinged with something unspoken. "Exactly."

"I guess it's not so bad," Y/n admitted, glancing up at the stars. "Kind of peaceful, actually."

Mikha's voice dropped, softer now. "I thought you'd like it."

The Ferris wheel creaked as the wind picked up, and Y/n instinctively reached for Mikha. The moment her fingers brushed against Mikha's, she froze, realizing what she had done. Embarrassed, she started to pull back.

"S-Sorry," Y/n stammered, her cheeks burning.

Before she could fully retreat, Mikha's fingers gently curled around hers, firm and reassuring. The warmth of her touch was steady, grounding Y/n just as it had earlier when Mikha had taken her hand.

"Don't be," Mikha said softly, her voice calm and sincere.

The simplicity of her words, paired with the quiet strength in her grip, sent a wave of comfort through Y/n, melting her initial awkwardness. For a moment, the world outside the Ferris wheel seemed to fall away, leaving only the stillness of their shared connection.

For Mikha, holding Y/n's hand felt like anchoring herself to something real—something that mattered. She wasn't sure how or when it had started, but the more time she spent with Y/n, the more she felt a pull she couldn't ignore.

Finally, Mikha broke the stillness with a teasing grin. "So, still think I'm crazy for bringing you here?"

"Oh, you're definitely crazy," Y/n said with a laugh, her earlier unease replaced by lightheartedness. "But maybe in the best way."

Mikha chuckled, leaning back against the seat. "I'll take that as a win."

As Y/n stared out at the stars, the plush fox clutched to her chest, she couldn't shake the feeling that this night—this quiet, beautiful moment—was one she'd carry with her forever.