"I've been summoned?" I murmured as I peeked through the door of Mikha's office. I slipped inside with practiced grace, closing the door gently behind me.
"Yes," Juan beamed, raising an arm before standing. His boyish smile radiated excitement and delight. "I need your help."
"I'm not going to change my answer." Mikha stated firmly, eyes still glued to the files on her desk.
My lips curved into a smile as I observed her.
Everything about Mikha screamed precision. The slight tilt of her head as she read, the subtle squint in her eyes, the way she flipped through the pages..
It was all controlled,
Like a pattern,
Like the wave in a calm sea.
She moved deliberately—with caution,
As if the world were watching her.
"You don't know your wife, do you?" Juan teased, testing Mikha's understanding of me. "She has a thing for making people agree with her."
I strolled toward Mikha's desk, slow and rhythmic. Graceful. My head tilted slightly, smiling playful and curious.
"How can I help?" I chirped, turning my attention to Juan.
"Don't indulge him." Mikha muttered under her breath, her exasperation barely restrained.
"Now I'm intrigued" I said with a smirk.
"I invited Mikha to a charity event for a selected orphanage. She doesn't have to do anything. Just show up."
"And my role?"
"To persuade your wife na sumama."
"I'm not going" Mikha said without looking up.
"Bakit hindi?" I pried.
"I don't like children. They're clingy, needy, and they throw tantrums when they don't get what they want."
"That reminds me of someone." I said. This time, I had her attention. Her expression remained neutral, but her eyes flared slightly.
My smile turned teasing---a sly grin forming as I saw the faint flush in her cheeks.
She couldn't hide it,
Not from me.
"I'm not those things." She snapped.
"I didn't say it was you" I replied, enjoying the performance.
Mikha looked away, ears tinged pink. Her fingers clenched the pen like it anchored her to composure.
Juan burst out laughing, pointing at Mikha. "Dude! You're blushing!"
"Am I a joke to you?" Mikha's voice dropped-cold, authoritative. "Leave. Both of you."
Juan cleared his throat, scrambling. "Sorry." He hurried out.
I stayed.
Like always.
"You scared him."
"He should be" she replied, slipping back into her measured calm.
"I thought we were past that?" I leaned on her desk, threading closer.
"You thought wrong."
"Hmm," I murmured, reaching for her hand, caressing it gently. "Hindi mo ba pwede pagbigyan si Juan? It's for a good cause naman."
She pulled away—retracting hurriedly,
Like my touch burned her.
"I have more important things to do."
