The two of you walked side by side through the mall, the rhythm easy, familiar. People stared — they always did. You with your pale skin and freckles, pink hair catching the light like it belonged in a magazine spread, your frame effortless and elegant in motion. Next to you was Mikha: taller, broad-shouldered, the picture of laidback swagger in her loose jacket and chain. Together, you looked untouchable — and everyone knew it.

You stopped outside a shoe store, idly scrolling on your phone while Mikha leaned against the wall, carrying your bags without a second thought. That’s when someone appeared. Confident, smooth, stepping right into Mikha’s space.

“Hey,” the stranger said with an easy smile. “Couldn’t help but notice you. Want to grab a drink sometime?”

"Appreciate it." she says, voice calm, low: "But i'm already with someone."

The stranger follows her line of sight — and lands on you. For a beat, their confidence falters. Because yeah, you’re standing there, model-pretty, freckles dusted across your flushed cheeks, looking very much like someone worth claiming.

Your breath catches, but before you can protest, Mikha steps forward. Her hand slides to your waist like it’s muscle memory, tugging you just slightly closer to her side. The move is casual, but her touch lingers — her thumb brushing the curve of your hip.

“See?” she says, eyes locked on the stranger, though her smirk is angled down at you. “Already taken.”

The stranger blinks, mutters a quick apology, and disappears into the crowd.

You twist to glare up at Mikha, though your pulse betrays you. “Taken?”

Mikha shrugs, her grin sharpening as she finally releases your waist — slow, deliberate. “What? You’d rather I let them keep staring?”

You open your mouth to argue, but the words stick. She notices, of course she does, her eyes lingering on your face a little too long before she adds, softer this time, “Relax. It’s just easier when people think you’re mine.”

And the way she says it, calm and certain, makes your chest tighten in a way you can’t quite laugh off.