Jay‑Jay POV
After the whole thing we went downstairs for lunch
Lunch carried on, quiet except for the clink of cutlery.
I kept my eyes on my plate, biting back the laugh that threatened every time I glanced at Keifer's jaw.
The bruise was blooming darker now, impossible to ignore.
I kept my eyes on my plate, trying not to look at Keifer's jaw —
the bruise blooming there like a badge of rebellion.
Seriana spread jam on her toast, her voice casual, almost playful. "Keifer, dear," she said, "that bruise looks… impressive. Did you walk into a door?"
I nearly snorted into my tea.
Keifer's jaw tightened, his tone clipped. "It was nothing, Mother. Just an accident."
Seriana tilted her head, eyes twinkling. "An accident? It looks like someone's fist had a very good aim."
My shoulders shook.
I bit my lip, but the laugh slipped out anyway.
Keifer's glare shot across the table, sharp, warning. "Jay," he muttered, "don't."
Seriana smiled knowingly, her gaze flicking between us. "Well, I suppose it's good to know Jay has a strong right hook. Keeps you lively, doesn't it?"
I burst out laughing, unable to hold it back.
Keifer pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling like he was in a boardroom dealing with chaos. "Mother, this is not lively. It's undignified."
Seriana chuckled, sipping her tea. "Oh, Keifer. Marriage isn't a board meeting. Sometimes it's bruises, sometimes it's laughter. I'll take laughter."
Keifer sat there, pride wounded, bruise darkening, trying to salvage dignity.
And I sat across from him, laughter bubbling in my chest, realizing that Seriana's warmth had turned our war into something almost… funny.
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JAY-JAY POV
Dinner was quiet, almost too quiet.
The bruise on Keifer's jaw had darkened, and every time I looked at it, laughter threatened to spill out again.
He sat stiffly, posture perfect, like he was holding a board meeting with himself.
Later, in his room, he closed the door with deliberate precision, turning to face me.
His jaw was tight, his voice clipped. "Jay, we need to talk."
I leaned against the dresser, arms crossed, smirking. "About your new accessory? The bruise suits you. Very… distinguished."
His glare sharpened. "This isn't a joke. You humiliated me in front of my mother."
I raised an eyebrow. "Oh, please. She thought it was lively. You should thank me for making you look… human."
Keifer exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You don't understand. Control is everything. Respect is everything."
I tilted my head, playful. "Respect? Is that what you call kissing someone without asking? Because where I come from, that's called stupidity."
His jaw clenched, his pride burning. "Jay, I am serious."
I laughed, unable to help myself. "That's the problem, Keifer. You're always serious. Even when you're ducking pillows like you're in a war zone."
For a moment, silence stretched between us.
His eyes burned into mine, clipped words caught in his throat. But I stood tall, smirking, unflinching.
"Face it," I said softly, irony dripping from my tone. "You're not losing control because of me. You're losing it because you can't laugh at yourself."
His pride cracked, just a little. And for the first time, I saw it — the mighty Keifer Watson, undone not by a punch, not by chaos, but by the absurdity of being taken less seriously than he demanded.
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Keifer's POV — Midnight
The bed was hers tonight. She claimed it without hesitation, sprawling across the sheets as if daring me to challenge her. I stood there, jaw tight, pride burning, and then turned away. The couch would do.
It was humiliating. Keifer Watson, CEO, reduced to sleeping on a couch in his own room. I lay there stiffly, the cushions too soft, the silence too loud. Every creak reminded me of the bruise on my jaw, of her laughter at lunch, of my mother's knowing smile.
Hours passed. Midnight crept in. I sat up, staring at the bed. She was asleep, her breathing steady, her hair spilling across the pillow like she owned the night.
My pride told me to stay on the couch. To prove I could endure. But my body betrayed me. The couch was uncomfortable, the floor beneath me cold. And the bed… the bed was mine.
I rose quietly, each step deliberate, clipped, like a man reclaiming territory. I slipped under the covers, careful not to wake her. For a moment, I lay still, staring at the ceiling, jaw tight, heart pounding.
This wasn't surrender. This wasn't weakness. This was practicality.
At least, that's what I told myself. But as her warmth brushed against me in sleep, I realized the truth: Control was slipping, even here. And I hated how much I wanted to stay.
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Jay‑Jay POV — Morning
The sunlight slipped through the curtains, soft and golden.
I stirred, stretching, only to realize something was… different.
My arm was draped across Keifer's chest.
My head rested against his shoulder.
We were tangled together, close, warm — cuddling.
I froze, eyes wide.
How had this happened?
Last night, he'd been on the couch.
I'd claimed the bed, triumphant.
But now, here he was.
In the bed.
Beside me.
I lifted my head slowly, careful not to wake him.
His jaw was still bruised, the mark of my rebellion, but his face was calm, serious even in sleep.
A laugh bubbled in my chest.
The mighty Keifer Watson, CEO of Watson's Enterprise, reduced to sneaking back into bed like a guilty child.
And worse — he'd ended up cuddling me.
He stirred, eyes opening, sharp and clipped even in the morning. "What are you doing?" he asked, voice low, serious.
I smirked, refusing to move. "Me? You're the one who snuck back in here. Don't blame me if you're clingy in your sleep."
His jaw tightened, pride burning. "I don't cuddle."
I raised an eyebrow, leaning closer. "Then explain this." I gestured to our tangled arms, my head still resting against him.
Silence.
His glare sharpened, but his body didn't move.
Finally, he muttered, clipped as ever: "It was cold."
I laughed, shaking my head. "Sure, Keifer. Cold. That's what you'll tell yourself. But admit it — you like this."
His pride refused to bend, his jaw clenched.
But he didn't pull away.
And for the first time, I realized:
Even in his seriousness, even in his pride, Keifer couldn't stop himself from reaching for me.
And that was almost funnier than the bruise.