Mahika and Amoli can't stand each other, but that's not the only thing they have in common.
Mahika treats Amoli like she's childish. Amoli thinks Mahika is a stuck-up prude. But Mahika's best friend and Amoli's brother are getting married, so they c...
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˗ˏˋ uncertainties and belated freak-outs 'ˎ˗
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If someone had told Mahika a few months ago that she would be panicking in her room one day, rifling through her closet to find something comfortable for Amoli to wear, she would have laughed in their face.
She's not laughing right now, though, no.
Stupid, stupid, stupid, she curses herself internally, hands shaking a little against the thin shelves. Everything was going well. We were finally getting somewhere with erasing that awkward air between us. And then you had to go ahead and kiss her.
God, she's freaking out.
One part of her brain says she should have thought about it more, and the other part counters it with a, Have you not been thinking about it the whole time you've known her? And Amoli was just... there; looking so pretty, being so, so lovely. And Mahika's brain had glitched for only a split second, but it was more than enough for the idea of 'just another inch closer' to be planted amidst the chaos of her thoughts.
And now she's suffering the consequences, obviously.
To make matters even worse, the two of them didn't even have the chance to talk about it because the sound of the front door had made them spring apart at the same time, and all they could do was immediately look away from each other.
The room was bathed in heavy, stiff silence after.
When Keerti had later looked at Amoli and asked, "You're staying, right?" like she already knew the answer, Mahika had been quick to assure Amoli that it was perfectly fine if she wanted to. More than fine, really.
But that doesn't change the fact that Mahika is scared.
The only thing she can do is sit back and wait until the worry stops eating her from the inside, because the last time she had been impulsive with her feelings — drunk dazed or not — she had to go through a whole lot of misery. And there's no way she would put herself through that again.
She can't put herself through that again.
So when the door clicks open, Mahika, trying to breathe in through her nose and out through her mouth in an attempt to calm herself down, knows who it is. But she doesn't look up. She doesn't look up because she knows who it is.
Even when the door clicks shut, she doesn't look up.
And even when there's a low thump of someone leaning back against it, she doesn't look up.
Swallowing back the rapidly growing lump in her throat, Mahika shoves her hand through the piles of clothes with a bit more intent, almost letting out a frustrated groan before her fingers catch onto the soft fabric of a shirt she hasn't seen in a while. Great, she thinks, pulling it out from the back of her closet. Now I have to look at her and pretend I'm not losing my mind.
