Mikha's POV
I barely noticed the time until my phone vibrated in my pocket.
I pulled it out, squinting against the dim lights of the bar as I read the screen.
Aiah (10 missed calls)
Aiah (5 new messages)
Shit.
I swayed slightly in my seat, my brain finally catching up to the fact that it was 3AM.
A cold wave of guilt washed over me.
I was supposed to go home after class, but then Jho, Colet, and Gwen convinced me to grab a drink.
Just one drink, Mikhs!
But, of course, one drink turned into three, then five, then a full-blown night out.
And somewhere between laughing at Jho's drunken antics and dodging Colet's attempts to convince us to go clubbing, I had completely forgotten to update Aiah.
Fuck.
I scrambled to reply, but the alcohol made my fingers clumsy.
Mikha: Babe im omw rn i forgot the time sorry
No response.
My stomach twisted slightly.
Aiah was usually chill, but we had a rule—if one of us was out late, we always updated the other.
And tonight?
I didn't.
By the time I made it home, I was sober enough to feel the full weight of my mistake.
The apartment was dark, eerily quiet.
I unlocked the door as silently as possible, wincing at the soft click as it swung open.
I barely made it two steps inside before I heard—
"Mikha."
Fuck.
I slowly turned to find Aiah standing in the hallway, arms crossed, eyes sharp.
And just like that, I knew I was in trouble.
/
The first thing I noticed—besides Aiah's sharp stare piercing through my soul—was the plate of food sitting on the dining table.
Untouched.
Cold.
And yet, it still wasn't as cold as the look Aiah was giving me right now.
I swallowed hard, kicking off my shoes as quietly as possible, like that would somehow soften the tension crackling in the air.
"Babe..." I started, my voice careful, hesitant.
Aiah raised an eyebrow. "Three AM, Mikha."
I winced. "I know."
"Do you?" she scoffed, crossing her arms tighter. "Kasi parang hindi mo alam kanina nung hindi ka man lang nag-update."
I exhaled, dragging a hand down my face. "Babe, sorry. I got caught up, I didn't—"
"Exactly, Mikha. Hindi mo naisip."
Her voice wasn't loud. She wasn't yelling.
That was worse.
Aiah never yelled when she was really upset. She just went icy, clipped, controlled.
"I made dinner," she continued, gesturing to the table. "Akala ko uuwi ka after class. Pero wala akong narinig sayo for hours."
Shit.
