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The soup was bland, and had too many celery bits.
It might be because of her stuffy nose that Aiah couldn't taste the chicken soup that much. But she was due to take medicine. She had to eat. So, she did. Along with the two slices of toasted wheat bread brought in with the soup.
She wondered who cooked her brunch... She wasn't criticizing. She only knew frying and putting things inside a microwave or an air fryer. She was in no position to judge.
But she was stuck in bed, a bit woozy. She could only wonder. She had fallen sick overnight into the weekend, and most of the girls didn't have classes that Saturday like her. It was a fortunate thing, because the girls, even though they really didn't have to, were home to look after her.
It was also kinda bad, in a way, because they would eventually know how and why she got sick, and--
"Who let her go out without an umbrella?" Colet asked, her voice muffled by her bedroom door. "I'll punch them in the face."
Aiah couldn't hear if any of their other housemates replied to Colet. If she could, she would have clarified it herself, that it wasn't anybody else's fault. It poured hard while she was outside. She didn't want to get sick. The rain was the last thing in her mind yesterday.
Her thoughts were about long red-dyed hair, and dark, round eyes...
About the girl who wasn't there.
Aiah turned to her side, on the bed, and faced the windows...and the empty bed across hers. The sky was still overcast, as if empathizing with what she was feeling, physically and emotionally. It might rain again soon...
Her roommate's bed was made. The galaxy-printed blanket was still neatly folded. It wasn't slept in. Aiah was left alone to rest last night. A small wave of self-pity swept across her chest.
Aiah squeezed her eyes shut. She should start thinking about someone--something else...
Chicken soup.
It was an okay chicken soup, overall. It warmed her up, both from the broth and from feeling gratitude.
It was Gwen who had brought it in earlier. Her younger housemate wasn't that much of a cook, too, but maybe she learned the reci--
"Ate Aiah." The door banged open, followed by shuffling of slippered feet. They should probably discuss the Knocking-First Rule again at their next house meeting.
But in the meantime, she buried her face onto her pillow, stuffy nose, watery eyes, and all. Her head hurt, and her body just felt heavy.
Jho's voice was thick, both concerned and strict. "Ate Aiah, your mom called, and--"
"My god, ate Aiah!" Maloi sounded exasperated like she wasn't talking to the oldest housemate in the whole house. "You still haven't finished your water. It's not even halved!"
Aiah's throat hurt, too. She could only take small sips. She did try finishing the rest of it before the girls had to refill her tumbler again.
Aiah looked up when Maloi sat on the edge of her bed. Her friend picked up the thermometer from the nightstand, and she let Maloi stick it in her armpit.
"Tita called, and asked us to make you swallow this," Jho, despite being one of the youngest, hovered like a mother, and brought a small bowl to her face. After one quick look at it, Aiah groaned. It was their family home remedy -- chopped garlic, drizzled with honey.
"It's pure honey, too," Jho pointed out.
"I..." Aiah's voice cracked from disuse. She tried again. "I'll have it later. Thank you."
"No." Colet had appeared from behind the open doorway, and eyed her. "Take it now, along with your meds."
Colet was the type who would mask her worry with annoyance, and being the recipient of that for a change, being treated like she was five instead of a 20-something-year-old university student, made Aiah feel another wave of self-pity. She didn't mean to be difficult. She just simply felt awful.
The thermometer beeped, and Maloi promptly checked it.
38.7, Maloi showed her, before holding the device up for Colet and Jho to see. The three of them stared at her expectantly.
A pout formed on Aiah's face but she had no strength to argue. So, she gave in. She sat up with a grace of a newborn puppy, and fought the shiver that wracked her body as her comforter slid down to her waist.
With her three friends watching her, she swallowed the glop of honeyed garlic. Her nose was still clogged, but she couldn't help but blah after. Jho let out a small cheer, encouraging her to go on.
A smiling face suddenly popped up in her mind, along with low but soft voice saying "You're doing great, ate Aiah."
Her shoulders sagged as she remembered the...events of yesterday. Images of a particular face, charming and ever so pretty, but marred with a pained expression she didn't want to see again on it. Of blues and whites, and sheets being sun-dried, swaying around her.
Even with three of her housemates to distract her, her thoughts were still about long red-dyed hair, and dark round eyes...
About the girl who wasn't around.
Aiah popped the flu meds in her mouth and washed it down with water. Her head throbbed at the effort.
There was a collective relieved sigh among her friends as they watched her lie back down. Aiah's sigh was resigned.
"Can you shower by yourself?" Maloi asked, tucking Aiah's hair behind her ear. "You can ask any of us to--"
"Maybe Mi--" Jho caught herself quickly, clamping her mouth close with her hands.
Colet cursed under her breath.
But Aiah had already heard. Her housemates, at least, had an idea.
"I volunteer." Maloi nudged her shoulder to get her attention.
Aiah only squeezed her eyes shut, willing the medicine to knock her back to sleep. She didn't even know if the Roommate-Who-Must-Not-Be-Mentioned-Around-Aiah had been in the house since the last time they saw each other.
Maloi tried to save the situation by offering, "They say I give good back scrubs."
"Who's 'they?'" Colet helped steer the topic.
An awkward silence enveloped the whole bedroom, and Aiah could feel the other three girls conversing through facial expressions. She trained her eyes instead on the window...and the empty bed.
Her head hurt, and her body just felt heavy. Her throat tightened for an entirely different reason.
When Maloi finally said, "We'll leave you to sleep," Aiah's nod was quick.
Sleep.
It was all she could do. It was better than thinking about her most-recent regret. Aiah was tired from feeling like flu and heartbreak were separately causing her pain, and the heartbreak part was way worse.
When her meds kicked in, she didn't fight it.
She slept.
* * *
The rain always had a calming effect on her. Her thoughts would stop overrunning in her mind. For a while, the pitter-patter would steady her, ease her. Like a comforting rhythm, a welcome presence, a gentle touch on her arm... Like soft tickling of hair strands on her skin.
But when the gloomy, rainy days would stretch to more than a week, the calming effect would become depressing instead.
And it was Mikha who would constantly be there.
It was Mikha's comforting reassurances. It was Mikha's gentleness... It was Mikha's red-dyed hair that tickled Aiah's cheek.
Aiah didn't know how it developed. How the straight-faced youngest daughter of her landlord had ended up living under the same boarding house as seven other girls, all formerly strangers to each other. How it had changed from them being reluctant roommates, to their friends leaving the space beside her and reserving it for Mikha.
How Mikha wouldn't even spare a glance her way during the younger girl's first week rooming with her, to Mikha laying her head onto Aiah's shoulder during movie-bingeing... Like it was as natural as the smile, and the warmth blooming in her chest every time Mikha was close.
Aiah wondered about them again, one rainy Thursday late afternoon. She hadn't felt the full heat of the sun in three days. She should be anticipating the moment that the sky would clear up, and she'd have a good morning run around the village before her first class.
But instead, she was in her own bed, snuggling under the blanket with her roommate, despite Mikha having a wider, comfortable bed of her own. Aiah's school notes lay forgotten on her lap while Mikha had been reading her notes on her laptop propped on a pillow.
Mikha was a quiet study partner that night, save for maybe a few mumbling of "Hmmn, what again?" or "Why. What." when she was confused. Mikha's lips would form an unconscious pout whenever it happened. Her thick eyebrows furrowing a little. Her eyelashes looked delicate as she focused on reading.
And Aiah was left staring at Mikha's profile, distracted, wondering again...
"Ate Aiah." Mikha suddenly looked up at her, and Aiah realized only then, how close their faces were.
* * *
Mikha found doing the laundry therapeutic. There was a washer-drier installed at the house, something Mikha had asked her parents if she was to stay there with the tenants. She enjoyed the process and the monotony of it.
Aiah kinda understood the younger girl, although she preferred a trip to the laundromat two blocks away to do hers. There was a milk tea place next to it that also served takoyaki and egg sandwiches. Her laundry run gave her a much needed break, and she would walk back home with a bag of clean clothes, and a satisfied stomach.
One pleasant Wednesday afternoon, though, Aiah kept Mikha company as her roommate hang bed covers and sheets to be sun-dried.
Her last class that day had been canceled, and she had planned on catching up on sleep. But upon coming home and seeing Mikha, sleeping had become low priority.
The whole house had been silent. The rest of the girls weren't home yet. Or maybe two were holed up in their rooms, studying for the midterms collectively kicking their butts. And it took her 10 minutes to notice that Mikha was also home.
Aiah had caught Mikha walking out of the laundry room, with an occupied look on her pale face, and a basket of blankets and sheets in her arms.
Aiah's back was aching to feel her bed again, and she could feel a headache coming, but there was something in Mikha's gait, in the sag of her shoulders that made Aiah follow the other girl to the front yard.
Aiah made herself comfortable on the ornate swing bench at the other side of the garden, under the shade of the huge tree that was as old as the house. She didn't take offense when Mikha only noticed her there another 10 minutes later. She didn't mind it when Mikha didn't return her greeting of "Hi, I'm home."
Mikha only gave her a smile that didn't reach her dark, round eyes.
And in that moment, Mikha had become Aiah's only priority.
* * *
"Ate Aiah."
Aiah would have found hers and Mikha's current position comical if not for the warmth creeping up her cheeks, unexpected.
Aiah would have waited for what Mikha had to say when she looked up, if she didn't find Mikha's surprised expression absolutely adorable.
Aiah would have leaned back and allowed more space between them, if not for the quick realization that she didn't want to. She wanted to be close.
Aiah would have dismissed the whole thing, if not for the way Mikha's round eyes had become hooded, and her stare dropped to Aiah's lips... If Mikha didn't take her time before looking back up again.
Aiah would have thought none of it... If not for the way the sounds of rainfall outside seemed to become muted, and the air inside their room became thick.
"You forgot what you're about to say, didn't you?" Aiah offered a way out. But deep inside, she prayed that Mikha wouldn't take it.
"I didn't forget..." Mikha's reply came in a whisper.
But to Aiah, it resounded in her entire being, like that one thunder that woke up the whole house two nights ago.
"I just think it doesn't matter anymore," Mikha added, and there was a softness in the way she had stared, a softness that Aiah hadn't noticed that closely before. And she welcomed the implications of it. Of the possible meanings why Mikha had visibly gone soft on her, unconsciously or consciously.
"You're very beautiful, ate Aiah."
Aiah would have thought that Mikha was teasing her, if not for the shine in Mikha's round eyes, clear and genuine...
If not for the realization that maybe... Maybe it was mutual.
The door banged open, revealing Colet and their youngest housemate, Sheena, behind it. The latter was shielding her eyes with her hands.
Aiah would have laughed at Sheena's antics, if not for the hint of disappointment she could feel in her stomach... At being interrupted.
Mikha groaned out loud at the two. She hurled a pillow towards the door and it hit the doorframe, missing Sheena by an inch. Sheena only cackled at the effort.
Aiah would have found it all amusing, if not for pillow on the hardwood floor. It was her pillow Mikha chose to throw, and it had been a week since they last vacuumed.
"Hey, lovers." Colet's face was blank as she teased. "Ramen night downstairs in 10?"
"'Lovers' your face," Aiah managed to counter before Colet could slam the door and sashay away with Sheena.
At least, they closed the door themselves.
As they were left alone back in the quietness of their bedroom, Aiah felt Mikha's eyes on her. She wondered again, about many things...
Aiah didn't know if it was a good decision, but she ended up giving it time. She wasn't in a hurry.
And besides, she could still:
"Come on, 'love,'" she teased Mikha, tilting her head towards the door.
Mikha's chuckle was quiet. Aiah's heart skipped a beat at the sight.
Mikha shook her head, and halfheartedly grumbled, "'Love' your face."
"Oh, I know you do," Aiah replied, with a playful wink. Then she swiftly slid out of the bed, and headed out of their room, leaving Mikha gaping after her in surprise.
Mikha's late "ate Aiah!" was muffled to Aiah by the closed door.
Aiah walked down the stairs, amused, but back to wondering what had actually happened between her and Mikha. What had shifted...
All she knew was that the week-long rain didn't seem gloomy anymore, and she felt warm and light inside.
* * *
Aiah waited as Mikha took her time hanging her laundry over the rows of clotheslines. The sullen expression on her roommate's face was worrying, but Aiah had always took pride in being patient.
Seeing how natural Mikha was moving about, one couldn't probably imagine how little Mikha used to know about house chores. Apart from loading the washer-drier and putting the right amount of detergent and drier sheets, Mikha had no homemaking skills during her first weeks. The management of the boarding house was entrusted to her as the landlord's daughter. And yet it took a month before the whole household ran without any more inconvenience. Pipe leaks fixed, and squeaky door hinges oiled. It all had become a fond memory that made Aiah smile to herself remembering.
Her smile faded though, as Mikha stood still beside the hung blankets swaying in the afternoon breeze.
"My ex texted me a while ago," Mikha said in an even tone.
Aiah wondered, if Mikha's use of that particular tone was a defense mechanism, to somehow hide what she was deeply feeling.
She would have thought more about it, if not for the realization that Mikha, her mostly-reserved roommate, was sharing her past with her.
So Aiah focused her all on her roommate, without foreseeing the mess of feelings Mikha's past would evoke in her.
"We were together for two years. We both went back and forth between here and LA." Mikha took her time brushing non-existent creases on the blanket, not meeting Aiah's eyes.
Aiah wasn't ready for the maddening curiosity... For the jealousy. Her mind made up a collage of images of Mikha's ex. How was Mikha as a girlfriend? How good-looking was the ex? How old? How about their age gap?
And finally...
'Do I have similarities with Mikha's ex? Who's more beautiful?'
"I already had plans to move in with her when she cheated on me."
A rush of both familiarity and protectiveness coursed through Aiah so sudden, her spine straightened and her hands shook.
"It was with her classmate." The younger girl still had her eyes averted. "They'd only known each other for a month into spring semester. That's all it took."
Aiah recognized similarities to her own past 'failed' relationships. She had been in Mikha's shoes. She had also shared that part of her past to Mikha, when they all got drunk one night.
"And now, she's back." Mikha concluded her story by finally meeting Aiah's eyes. "She's staying here for good."
Aiah wasn't sure what the ex-girlfriend's return entailed. But she still felt like the ground beneath her getting loose, unstable. She had long stopped swaying in the ornate swing bench, but it felt like she was being rocked back and forth between memories.
When Aiah caught the apologetic look on Mikha, she knew that her roommate was aware of the similarities they shared, of the past hurt that could bring them closer, or heaven forbid, drive them apart.
Amid all the dark clouds forming in her heart, she set aside her own feelings to focus on her...roommate, friend... Maybe more.
Aiah offered a smile that she hoped was comforting and sure. She could only say, "You have me now. I won't let you get hurt again."
She wanted to add, "I could only hope that I have you, too," but she didn't...couldn't yet.
A soft look swept across Mikha's face. Her smile was equally as soft. And Aiah was sure she had said the right thing.
Mikha needed her in that moment as a friend, until the time that Mikha, herself, would maybe, ask to be more.
* * *
The meds were making Aiah feel like she was swimming in and out of her dreams, memories, and consciousness.
A cold clothe was pressed on her forehead, and ran along her neck and arms. It made her shiver unpleasantly. Her limbs still ached as they were raised and pulled through dry fabric.
"We're sorry, ate Aiah..." The voice sounded distant. "This is without your explicit consent but we really need to change your pajama top so it won't dry on you."
"We'll just let you beat us up once you recover. But if it's any type of consolation, your body is to die for, and your ti--"
"Oh my effing god, ate Maloi?"
There were more shushing before Aiah drifted back to the garden, swaying in the ornate swing bench. The grass was still wet from the rain, but the sky was blue again, and she was smiling while looking up. The brightness of the morning mirrored the warmth and lightness she was feeling.
"You missed the sun that much?"
"Yes." Aiah could hear the smile in her own voice. "And you're not sick anymore, too, so..."
"And that makes you smile?"
"Of course, love. It makes me happy."
* * *
Aiah had no time to visit her socials that much. Unless she had attended an event or gone out to meet with her friends, she had no business and time to check on other people's life updates. She was having trouble managing her time already as it was.
But on a rare occasion that she opened it while on a random study break, it had to be that that she had to see.
It appeared after two mindless scrolls, and it had burned in Aiah's retinas before she could close the app. She tossed her phone away to the other side of the long dining table where she was studying.
A photo.
A photo where Mikha was tagged. A photo of a girl and Mikha.
Mikha was with a girl Aiah hadn't met nor seen before, and that girl had her hand on Mikha's clavicle while side-hugging her.
Was she the ex? Did they get back together? Getting re-acquainted?
Aiah's lower lip trembled, and her shoulders suddenly felt so heavy that she slumped on her chair.
It was supposed to be a 20-minute study break. She was supposed to rest her eyes and mind. She didn't need all her memories with Mikha to flash in her head like a throwback reel. She didn't need the unpleasant feelings that single photo had brought to the surface.
Aiah ran her hands through her wavy hair. There was a tight feeling in her chest that she hadn't associated before with Mikha, and she had to--
Aiah stood up so fast that the dining chair scraped loudly against marbled floor. She didn't know what to do with herself. Should she seek out one of the girls? Was Colet already home?
When she caught sight of the dark clouds and the gray sky through the window, she headed towards the front door. She had to do something with her hands, or else she would--
She didn't want to think anymore, and someone had left their white sheets and dark blue blanket drying outside.
The front door suddenly opened before Aiah could reach it. To add insult to injury, it revealed a frazzled-looking Mikha behind it. Under her sports jacket, Mikha was still wearing her black volleyball jersey. The same one in that photo.
The girl's hand on Mikha's skin, the girl's arm over Mikha's shoulder, Mikha's close-lipped smile... It was the smile Mikha always had on when she was in a teasing mood. They all flashed in her mind again, as if they weren't causing small twinges of pain in her heart enough.
Aiah bit back a whimper. She wanted to push at something. She wanted to hide away from the cause of the heavy emotions brewing like a storm in her chest. She didn't know anymore.
Aiah ignored the worried look on Mikha's face and walked past her. It was about to rain.
"Ate Aiah..."
She could feel the younger girl following her to the front yard.
"I... There's a picture..." Mikha started. "You may or may not see it because I know you're not on social media that much but, yeah, there's..."
Aiah didn't stop moving. She grabbed the laundry basket from the ground, and started collecting the dark blue blanket with her free hand.
"There's a photo of me with another girl."
Aiah tugged hard at the blanket, and the clothesline swayed at the force of it. Mikha lifted the other corners of the blanket to help ease her pulling. Once the blanket was loose and bundled between them, Aiah pulled harshly at it, snatching it from Mikha's hands.
Mikha was taken aback by pull, and probably at the hard expression on her face when their eyes met. Mikha suddenly looked hurt.
Aiah wanted to scream. Why was Mikha the one looking like that when it was her who was feeling helpless and hollow and hurting all at the same time?
Aiah had always took pride in her composure, in being rational and introspective. But when it came to the younger girl before her, and the new feelings blooming in Aiah, she was suddenly selfish, and incapable of reason.
"She's just a girl I met from our regular Friday games." Despite the glistening in her round eyes, that looked a lot like tears forming, Mikha's tone stayed even and her voice, clear. She didn't take her eyes off of Aiah as she explained. "She's from the other team. And she's like that with everyone. She also took pictures with the others."
But Aiah wasn't processing it, wasn't listening. "And that is important information to me, because..."
"I..." A look of realization passed Mikha's features. "I dunno. I... I just want to clear things."
Despite the deja vu that passed through Aiah, she was reminded of the vulnerability that Mikha showed before. Still...
"I'm not your girlfriend, Mikha. I couldn't care less who you kiss or hug."
"We didn't--we didn't kiss or anything like--"
"Again." Aiah stood up straighter. "I don't care."
Aiah tilted her head up... In a last attempt at showing that the conversation was nothing to her. That she didn't get jealous. That a mere two shot didn't hurt her, didn't make her feel insecure in herself...unsure of her place in Mikha's life.
Mikha's gaze on her didn't waver. The white sheets left hanging swayed gently behind her, creating an image that would haunt Aiah later on but hadn't known it yet.
And it took a lot from her not to look away. Because there were tears brimming Mikha's round eyes, and Aiah was--
"Just like that, ate Aiah?"
Aiah was quivering inside. And it had nothing to do with the air getting colder.
"If you think we're not on the same page, you could have just said so."
Aiah just wanted to protect herself...
But it was all about Mikha, after all.
Mikha, whom Aiah was feeling all sorts of emotions for, mostly highs. Yes, mostly highs...
And Aiah had hurt her.
"It will rain soon. Please, get inside."
Then, Mikha left.
It did rain hard a minute after. Aiah was stuck to the same spot where Mikha had left her.
The rain always had a calming effect on her. Maybe that was why she had stayed out under the rain that long. Even though, for once in her life, it didn't take effect.
There were a few rumblings of thunder, too. The laundry basket and everything in it, had gotten wet again. And somehow, Aiah wasn't thinking about any of that. Not about her drenched clothes clinging to her body. Not about the regret heavy on her shoulders. Not the hollow ache in her chest.
Her thoughts were about long hair dyed red, and dark, round eyes, glistening with unshed tears...
About the girl she had pushed away.
* * *
The door was opened, but no one came inside. Aiah had heard the door creak, followed by a hushed, "You might wake her up. She already took her meds, don't worry." It sounded like Gwen.
She looked up at the dark sky and it had started raining again. Colet was by the doorway, telling her to get inside. Their boarding house looked warm and inviting. She looked down, and a red umbrella was suddenly in her hand.
The door creaked to a close again.
Aiah ignored the huff the younger girl still had the energy to let out.
"No... Ate Aiah, I'm warning you..."
"It's useless complaining." She settled beside Mikha in her bed. "Focus on getting better instead."
"Ate Aiah..." Mikha whined. She turned to her side before she blew her nose weakly into a tissue.
Mikha's body was still too warm from fever. She had also shivered from the cold when Aiah slid in bed behind her. Aiah quickly covered themselves with Mikha's favorite galaxy-printed blanket, making sure that her roommate was tucked in.
But Aiah didn't call Mikha out when the younger girl sagged into her arms. There was no force or resistance when Aiah pulled Mikha closer, and hugged her from behind.
"You'll catch cold, too," Mikha threatened, but it only came out empty, and almost adorably said.
Getting sick was the last thing in her mind. But Mikha couldn't sleep even after she had taken her medicine. And Aiah couldn't bear seeing the younger girl like that. She knew that Mikha was feeling more awful things than from the fever.
Aiah hummed. "Then, we'll cuddle in bed all week."
Mikha let out a small cough. "You mean, we'll 'suffer together' all week."
"That doesn't sound so bad." Aiah patted Mikha's arm in a slow, comforting rhythm.
Mikha was silent for a while, as if deep in thought. Her weak and heavy breathing gradually became a bit even. Aiah would have thought that Mikha had fallen asleep if not for the occasional sniffling.
"Ate Aiah..."
"Hmmn?"
Aiah snuggled further into Mikha's hair. Mikha smelled of sweat, her floral shampoo, Vicks, and cough syrup. But Aiah couldn't help but feel like 'home.'
"I don't like getting sick..."
"I know, Mikha..." Aiah's heart ached.
"I feel gross, and I get sad."
"Oh, love. I know..."
* * *
It was a touch of a cooler hand over her forehead that coaxed Aiah awake. She had become conscious first before her body caught up. She didn't open her eyes yet, but even in her semi-sleeping state, she knew she wasn't alone in the bedroom.
And she knew...felt that the presence was safe.
Something loosened in her chest. A rush of relief filled her. Along with it, came longing and regret.
"Mikha..." Aiah called in a half-whisper. Then she opened her sleep-heavy eyes.
And sure enough, there, by the closed door, stood Mikha. Her red-dyed hair was loose down her shoulders. Her baggy black shirt was tucked under her black jogger pants. When Aiah finally focused on Mikha's face, the younger girl was already watching her. The night light had been turned on while she was resting, and it shone on Mikha's pale face...
Aiah caught the wounded expression on her, before it was replaced by a guarded mask.
"I just..." The younger girl raised her hand and showed her own phone charger marked with red washi tape. It was the first thing she had said to Aiah ever since their talk yesterday, and it wasn't even a complete sentence.
"Let's talk, please?" Aiah reached out a hand. Mikha could see it as an invite, an olive branch, whatever. She just wanted Mikha close.
Without a word, and without even looking at her, Mikha walked over, and gingerly sat down on the edge of her bed. Aiah didn't like the space Mikha had put between them.
Aiah lifted herself up and sat, leaning against the headboard. Mikha's hands rose a little, as if ready to assist her. But Aiah managed anyway, and Mikha leaned back again.
Aiah didn't know why it had to be the first thing she asked, but... "Where did you sleep last night?"
"Beside Stacey."
Aiah huffed at that. She couldn't help it. Mikha gave her an unimpressed stare.
Aiah knew she was being unreasonable again, thinking about Mikha and their other housemate that way. They had talked about it before. But she was feeling all sorts of things, and her heart was still tender...
She should probably work on that if she wanted to fully make up with Mikha. She didn't want to fight anymore.
So, she started by being honest...
"I don't know where to start," Aiah said quietly. Her voice was still hoarse from being sick.
"Looks like it," Mikha muttered with a one-shoulder shrug.
Aiah didn't expect that kind of response, but she welcomed it. It had only been one night but she had missed Mikha so much. Every side of Mikha. Even the sarcastic side who talked back.
She tried again.
"I'm sorry for the things I said yesterday..." She reached for Mikha's hand, and hooked their pinkies together. "I didn't mean any of it."
Mikha was silent, seemingly deep in thought. She just stared at their joined pinkies.
"It was my self-preservation talking," Aiah added, feeling ashamed of how she had handled things yesterday.
When Mikha looked up to meet her eyes, Aiah laid it all out in the open. She didn't want the things unsaid to hold her back anymore.
"I got jealous. I don't want her hugging you. I--I don't want her to--to... I didn't want you to know that it made me mad. I just felt so so crazy. Because we have a thing. I know we had--we have something really good going on, and I..."
Aiah breathed in shakily. She suddenly got a bit woozy at the effort and the unintentional rambling...
But at least, it no longer felt suffocating.
"Is this your cold meds talking?" Mikha was looking at her with something Aiah wanted to interpret as renewed hope, and fondness, and all sorts of emotions Aiah, herself, could connect to only one girl, mostly highs. Yes, mostly highs...
Aiah choked on her incoming tears. "No. It's all me."
Mikha nodded her head in understanding, while making soft hushing sounds. She quickly pulled a wad of tissues from its box on her nightstand, and started dabbing Aiah's tears dry before they fell down her cheeks. Then Mikha proceeded to wipe Aiah's nostrils.
And Aiah would have found it embarrassing, if not for the quick realization that she longed for it -- Mikha's gentleness, Mikha's full attention on her.
Mikha was silent all the while, apart from the soft hushing sounds to stop her from fully crying. Aiah's confession wasn't addressed yet... Or maybe, she wouldn't, at all. But Aiah found that she wasn't anxious about it.
Mikha was beside her, in their bedroom. As long as Mikha's eyes weren't brimming with tears, as long as Mikha wasn't hurting, Aiah would take anything.
"Do you have enough water?" Mikha asked in almost a whisper.
"Yes..."
Mikha felt the crook of Aiah's neck with the back of her hand, to check her temperature. Aiah shivered at the touch.
"How long until you take your meds again?"
"Two hours from now..."
Mikha nodded her head. She went on clearing her nightstand of the used, balled-up tissues. Then she sprayed the cleaner surface and her hands with alcohol.
Aiah asked, a bit hesitantly. "Did I upset you yesterday?"
Mikha only nodded again.
But Aiah was owning up to it. "I'm so sorry, Mikha..."
She just didn't want to see Mikha hurt again.
Aiah reached for both of Mikha's hands to keep her still. She held Mikha's gaze. "Are you still upset with me?"
Mikha shook her head.
Aiah gently rubbed the backs of Mikha's hands. "Say something..."
"You look like sh!t, ate Aiah."
Aiah bit back an offended gasp. "Okay. Mean... But fair, I guess."
Mikha's lips were pursed together, but Aiah could still see the smile Mikha was holding back. She would definitely get back at the younger girl's teasing once she was all better.
But in the meantime, Aiah was feeling tired and woozy again. She laid herself back down, deeper into her comforter. Being honest about her feelings had spent whatever energy she had left.
Mikha tucked her in better, and needlessly smoothed the comforter over her body. Aiah didn't take her eyes off of the younger girl and her movements.
When Mikha was sitting still again, Aiah fought a yawn so she could ask, "As much as I don't want you catching cold, too, I'd... I'd really appreciate it if you could stay a while."
And Mikha's answer was immediate. "I'll stay."
But Aiah didn't expect Mikha to climb in bed with her, and settle behind her, a reminiscent of their position but in reverse, back when it was Mikha who got sick.
It all happened so fast, Aiah had no chance to stop the younger girl... Not that she wanted to in the first place.
"I thought you don't like cuddling when sick?" She asked as Mikha carefully hugged her from behind.
Mikha wrapped an arm around her, and gently held Aiah's wrist. "It's useless to complain."
"I'm not complaining," Aiah mumbled. Her eyes, getting heavier. Mikha's warmth was making her sleepier.
"This is the first time I've seen you get this sick, and I..." Mikha's voice was quiet, but the shake of it, her worry, were clear. "Don't get sick again, ate Aiah."
Stress from school alone could test her limits, but she didn't say that. She promised instead, "I won't..."
Mikha's phone suddenly vibrated in her joggers pocket, followed by Maloi's muffled shout of "Mikha, your chicken breast!" heard from downstairs.
A laugh bubbled in Aiah's chest. She felt warmer, the good, not-fever-related kind.
Mikha sounded a bit sheepish behind her. "I still have to shred chicken for your soup..."
But Mikha didn't make a move to get up. Not that Aiah would let her, if she did.
"It was delicious," Aiah said, choosing to stick to the truth that she had been too sick to taste the food to tell otherwise.
"It wasn't bland? I thought it was--"
"It was perfect," Aiah placated the younger girl. She snuggled deeper into Mikha's hug.
"You're perfect." Mikha rephrased.
Aiah's cheeks and neck were already warm, but she still blushed at that. She'd definitely get back at Mikha later. "You just told me I look like sh!t."
"That was ages ago."
"You don't think I'm gross now?"
"No, love. You're perfect."
Mikha buried her face onto the back of Aiah's neck, making Aiah shiver from non-flu-related reasons. Aiah probably smelled like Vicks, sweat, and alcohol. But Mikha still called her 'perfect,' and Aiah had no energy to question that, or even be embarrassed.
They would definitely have a longer talk soon. Once she was better. Once she was no longer sniffling and weak-limbed.
But in the meantime, Aiah allowed herself to drift back to sleep. While her thoughts were still about long red-dyed hair, and dark, round eyes...
About the girl who was with her, hugging her close.
And she slept.
Fin.