JAY'S POV —
After breakfast, I texted Angelo like a responsible sibling before he sent a search party.
ME: Kuya, I'm staying at the Watsons' today. Promise I'm fine.
His reply came in 0.2 seconds.
ANGELO: Okay. But be home before dinner.
And drink water.
And NO MORE ALCOHOL.
ME: Yes, father 🙄
ANGELO: I'm serious.
ME: I know. Love you.
ANGELO: Love you too. Take care.
I smiled at my phone without meaning to.
Then immediately hid the smile when Keifer looked at me like he was reading my soul.
Keiren suddenly jumped up from the couch like he'd been shocked.
"OKAY!" he announced dramatically. "Since ate Jay is staying—MOVIE DAY."
Keigan groaned. "We always watch your movies. I swear if it's anime again—"
"It's CULTURE!" Keiren argued.
"It's trauma," Keigan corrected.
I laughed, settling between all three of them on the giant couch. Keifer sat beside me, not too close, not touching me… but close enough that his knee brushed mine every few minutes.
Accidentally. Sure. Right.
Keiren picked some chaotic movie, and soon the living room turned into absolute nonsense:
• Keiren shouting at the screen.
• Keigan throwing popcorn at him every time he spoiled something.
• Keifer stealing my popcorn because "you shouldn't eat too much salt on a hangover."
• Me leaning into Keifer's shoulder halfway through because my head was pounding again.
And him letting me.
Actually— him shifting so I could rest more comfortably.
By the time lunch rolled around, the four of us had spent hours just… being.
Laughing. Teasing. Shouting at Keiren because he kept skipping intros. Pretending my heart wasn't doing backflips every time Keifer looked at me.
Keigen stretched and stood. "Come on. Let's eat.I'm hungry"
Keiren was already sprinting to the kitchen.
Keifer got up slower, glancing down at me.
"You okay?" he asked for maybe the tenth time.
"Yeah," I said softly.
But before he could turn away, I tugged his sleeve gently.
"Thanks… for letting me stay."
He smiled—small, warm, a little shy.
"You can stay any day, Jay."
And he meant it.
Which was probably why my heartbeat tripped over itself for the hundredth time that morning.
I followed them into the kitchen, still wearing his hoodie, still pretending that didn't mean anything—
When it meant everything.
Lunch was loud — mostly because Keiren kept fighting Keigan for the last piece of chicken like they were starring in a family drama.
But eventually, everyone crashed back onto the couch.
Except this time…
It was quiet.
No movie. No yelling. Just the soft hum of the AC and the afternoon light slipping through the curtains.
Keigan dozed off first, sprawled like a starfish. Keiren fell asleep second, face buried in a pillow he may or may not have stolen from me.
That left me and Keifer.
Still on the couch. Still close. Too close.
I sat curled up at one end, and he sat beside me — long legs stretched, arms rested, the picture of calm.
Until I shivered once.
Just once.
And he immediately lifted his arm.
A silent invitation.
I stared. He raised an eyebrow.
"You'll be cold," he said simply.
I didn't argue. Didn't think.
I just… moved.
Settled into his side, head on his chest, legs tucked under me. His arm wrapped around me like it belonged there.
And maybe it did.
His fingers traced little circles on my upper arm — absent-minded, gentle, addictive.
"Head still hurting?" he whispered into my hair.
"A little…"
"Then stay like this for a while."
I shouldn't have felt butterflies.
I SHOULDN'T.
But I did.
So many.
Enough to fill the whole Watson house.
For the next hour, we didn't talk. We just stayed like that — his heartbeat steady under my ear, his breath warm against my temple, my fingers lightly gripping the hem of his hoodie.
Safe. Soft. Too easy to fall into.
But eventually…
My phone buzzed.
ANGELO: Be home soon. You dad wants you here.
I sighed into Keifer's chest — quietly, reluctantly.
He heard it.
"Time to go?" he murmured.
"Yeah…"
His arm tightened for a second. Like he didn't want to let go either.
But he did.
Slowly.
Carefully.
He stood up first, grabbed his keys, then held out his hand to me.
"Come on," he said softly. "I'll take you home."
So I slipped my hand into his — because how could I not? — and he walked me out to his car.
The entire ride back was comfortable silence, his hand resting on the gear shift… inches from mine.
Too close. Not close enough.
When we reached my house, he parked but didn't let me unbuckle.
Not yet.
He looked at me with that soft, steady gaze again.
"You feeling better?" he asked.
"Yeah," I whispered. "Thanks to you."
He exhaled… smiled a little… like he wasn't trying to smile at all.
"Good."
For a moment, neither of us moved.
Then he reached over gently and fixed the collar of his hoodie on me.
"You can… keep it," he said.
My heart exploded.
"Keifer—"
"It looks better on you," he muttered, eyes flicking away like he'd said too much.
I swallowed — hard — and pushed the door open before I said something stupid.
"Goodnight, Keifer."
He leaned back in his seat, watching me with that unreadable, dangerous softness.
"Goodnight, Jay Jay."
I stepped out.
But before the door closed, he added quietly—
"Text me when you're inside."
Of course he'd say that.
Of course I smiled.
Of course he saw it.
And of course…
my heart was completely, hopelessly done for...
The moment I stepped inside, kuya Angelo was already standing in the hallway with his arms crossed like a disappointed parent.
His eyes dropped straight to the oversized hoodie drowning my entire existence.
He blinked.
Twice.
"Jay… whose—hoodie—is that?"
I lifted a hand. "Before you yell—"
"I'm not yelling," he said, definitely ready to yell, "I'm just asking who the hell's hoodie that is."
"It's Keifer's," I said, tugging at the sleeve shyly.
Angelo stared.
Then sighed so hard it sounded like the soundtrack of his suffering life.
"At least tell me you're okay."
"I'm fine," I said softly. "He took care of me."
Angelo's expression softened.
"You trust him?" he asked.
I looked down at the hoodie. At the way it smelled. At the warmth that still hadn't left my skin.
"Yeah," I whispered. "I do."
He nodded once—accepting it, filing it away like a protective older brother would.
But then he added, already turning toward the stairs, "Go get ready. Your Dad wants us all for dinner tonight."
My stomach dropped. "Tonight? Why?"
Angelo shrugged. "Don't ask me. Just get dressed. Mom and Tita Gema are already preparing."
Great.
I went to my room, closed the door, and stared at the closet like it had personally wronged me.
Eventually, I pulled out the dress my mom gave me — soft, floral, girly in a way she loved seeing me in but personally ughh so girlyyy ughh
I slipped into it, smoothed it down, and grabbed a small bag.
A knock.
"You done?" Angelo asked.
"Yeah."
We headed downstairs where Mom, Aries, and Tita Gema were already waiting by the door.
"Let's go," Mom said, smiling like she knew a secret.
We all climbed into the car — me squeezed between Angelo and Aries, who kept arguing about who should've driven.
It didn't take long before we pulled into the restaurant parking lot, lights warm against the early evening sky.
I stepped out, floral dress brushing against my legs, the breeze curling around me as we walked toward the entrance…
And the door opened for us.
They were already inside.
Waiting.
They all entered — the soft restaurant lights glowing warm against the deep wood interior.
My eyes scanned the room once.
Twice.
And then I saw him.
My dad.
Sitting at a long table near the windows, posture straight, suit crisp, expression unreadable as always.
And next to him—
Percy.
Laughing at something Dad said, looking perfectly comfortable like he belonged there.
Of course he was here.
Of course Dad invited him.
My steps slowed for half a second, but Angelo's hand pressed gently at my back, guiding me forward.
We reached the table, and Dad stood up immediately.
"Anak," he said with a small smile — that rare, soft one he reserved only for me.
I stepped toward him and he kissed the top of my head, a gesture that always made me feel five years old again.
"Hi, Dad," I murmured.
Percy gave a small grin. "Hey, Jay."
"Hi," I replied, forcing a polite smile.
Everyone began taking seats — Mom beside Dad, Tita Gema next to her, Angelo and Aries across from them.
And me…
Dad pulled out a chair right beside him.
"Sit here," he said gently.
So I slid into the seat next to him — and Percy sat on my other side.
Great.
Just perfect.
I folded my hands in my lap, trying not to fidget with the hem of my floral dress.
Dad's hand rested briefly on my shoulder, warm, grounding.
"I'm glad you're here," he said quietly. "I wanted us all together tonight."
I nodded. "I'm here, Dad."
He smiled again and sat back, gesturing for the menus.
Meanwhile, Percy leaned slightly toward me, voice low.
"You look nice pretty sistah but not more than me..."
I didn't react much. Just a small nod, a small smile.
"Thanks."
Dinner was starting.
And I had no idea what tonight was supposed to be about… but I already knew it was going to be something.
Something big.
Something I wasn't ready for...