Out of Reach | Mikhaiah

Chapter 37

Disclaimer: This is pure fiction. Any similarities to real people, places, or events are purely coincidental. Read, enjoy, and don't take it too seriously!

- ✦ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭 ✦ -

Arisha's POV:

The Seine shimmered under the golden city lights, the gentle ripples of the water reflecting the beauty of Paris at night. The air was crisp but comforting, wrapping around us in the quiet lull of midnight. Mikhazra's hand was warm in mine, her grip firm yet delicate-just like the way she loved me.

I inhaled deeply, letting the reality of everything sink in. I did it. I married her. No grand announcements, no crowd, no distractions-just us, standing in front of a quiet officiant in a hidden chapel, exchanging vows meant only for each other. It was reckless, impulsive, yet undeniably perfect.

I turned to look at her, taking in the way the soft glow of the streetlights illuminated her face. Her red hair was slightly tousled from the wind, her features relaxed, but her eyes... her eyes held something I couldn't quite place.

"Bub," Mikhazra murmured, pulling my hand closer, her thumb grazing my knuckles. "You really planned all of this... for me?"

I smirked, feeling a rush of pride. "Of course, I did. Did you really think I'd wait around for you to do it first?"

She let out a soft chuckle, shaking her head. "No, I suppose not. But still... a secret wedding? You, of all people, keeping a secret like that?"

I laughed, nudging her playfully. "Well, I figured it was time I did something reckless."

She sighed, stepping closer, and before I could react, she lifted our joined hands and pressed them against her chest. Her heartbeat was steady, strong-but there was something in the way she held me, something unspoken.

"Sigurado ka?" she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "No regrets? No second thoughts?"

I frowned slightly, tilting my head. "Why would I? This is what I want. You're what I want."

Mikhazra didn't answer immediately. Instead, she let her fingers trace the back of my hand, slow and deliberate, like she was memorizing every inch of me. Her lips parted, but no words came out at first-only a deep exhale, like she was trying to steady herself.

"I just want you to be happy," she finally said, her voice filled with something I couldn't name.

I scoffed lightly, rolling my eyes. "I am happy, bub. I have everything I could ever need. For once, I don't have to chase anything. I don't have to prove anything. I can just... be. With you."

She smiled at that, but there was something behind her gaze-something heavy, something she wasn't saying.

She pulled me closer, wrapping her arms around my waist, her chin resting gently on my shoulder. I felt her breathe me in, her warmth pressing against me like she was trying to hold onto this moment for as long as she could.

"Come with me," she whispered suddenly, pulling away just enough to meet my gaze.

I raised a brow. "Where?"

She grinned, mischief twinkling in her eyes. "Dinner. A proper one. Malapit lang."

I blinked at her. "Bub, it's already late. And we don't have a reservation anywhere."

Mikhazra only smirked, tugging me by the hand as we started walking. "I do."

A few minutes later, we arrived in front of one of the most expensive restaurants along the Seine. The golden chandeliers inside cast a warm glow through the glass windows, and from where I stood, I could already see couples dining in elegant luxury.