*Continuation of Flashback*
Jay-Jay's POV
The morning sunlight crept through the thin curtains, drawing gold patterns across my bedsheet. For a second, I stayed still — eyes half-open, smiling at nothing. Then my phone buzzed softly on the nightstand.
Keifer 💙:Good morning, sleepyhead.Jay:It's 6:15. I'm awake.Keifer 💙:Barely. I bet you're still hugging your pillow like it owes you money.Jay:You're annoying.Keifer 💙:And yet you're smiling. See you in 30.
I bit back a grin, tossing the phone aside as I sat up. He wasn't wrong — I was smiling.
Downstairs, the smell of freshly cooked tocino filled the air. Tita Gemma stood by the stove, flipping eggs while humming softly. Aries and Ella were already seated at the table — both scrolling through their phones, hands occasionally brushing as they laughed about something.
"Good morning!" I greeted, sliding into my seat.
"Good morning, Jay," Ella said, her usual bright smile lighting up her face. "You look happy today."
"Woke up on the right side of the bed," I said innocently.
Aries raised a brow. "Right side of the bed or right side of the car?"
I threw him a look. "You're not funny."
Tita Gemma chuckled, setting a plate in front of me. "You know, hija, your brother might be right. That boy is outside every morning. If I didn't know any better, I'd think he's living here already."
Ella laughed. "Honestly, Tita, Keifer's practically family at this point."
"Mark Keifer Watson," Aries teased, dramatically emphasizing the name. "The one who made Jay late for breakfast three times this week."
I groaned. "It's not my fault! He shows up early."
"Then wake up earlier," Tita said, though her tone was gentle. "We wouldn't want your boyfriend thinking we don't feed you before class."
"He already knows you do," I said, biting into my bread. "He's had your adobo before, remember?"
Tita smiled proudly. "Ay oo nga! (Oh right!) That boy eats like he hasn't eaten in days."
"He's just being polite," I said quickly, cheeks warming.
"Polite or in love?" Aries said, nudging Ella. "You decide."
Ella grinned, resting her chin on her palm. "Definitely in love."
I rolled my eyes, but my heart felt light as air.
When I stepped outside, Keifer's car was waiting — the black paint gleaming under the sun, his window rolled down halfway. He was already smiling when he saw me, hair slightly tousled, one hand casually resting on the wheel.
"There she is," he said, voice warm. "The reason the sun rises every morning."
I blinked. "Wow. That's dramatic even for you."
He chuckled. "You love it."
"Maybe," I said, sliding into the seat. "If you bring coffee."
He reached into the cup holder, holding up two cups. "I'd never dare come without it."
I took mine, pretending not to smile. "You're learning."
He glanced at me as we pulled out of the gate. "So how's my favorite St. Celestine student doing?"
"Surviving," I said, sipping my coffee. "Barely."
"Because of classes?"
"Because of Clara."
His fingers tightened just slightly on the steering wheel. "Still giving you looks?"
"Yup. She's subtle about it, though — polite-smile-but-icy-eyes kind of subtle."
He sighed. "Dane's sister."
"Mhmm. I keep reminding myself that Dane's actually nice, so maybe she's just protective."
Keifer hummed, then looked at me with that half-smirk of his. "Or maybe she's jealous."
"Of what?"
"Of how everyone seems to like you."
I frowned. "That's not true."
"It is," he said. "I like you."
"That doesn't count," I said softly, looking away. "You're supposed to."
He leaned closer as the car slowed by a stoplight. "I want to."
The world seemed to pause. The red glow of the light reflected faintly against his eyes, his voice lowering as if the moment itself demanded softness.
"Stop doing that," I said weakly.
"Doing what?"
"Saying things that make my heart trip."
He grinned, satisfied. "Then mission accomplished."
At school, things began settling into a rhythm — almost like clockwork.
Every morning, Keifer dropped me off at the same spot near the old chapel. He'd always get out first to open my door (which made a few girls whisper, "Goals."). Sometimes, he'd walk me to the courtyard, hand hovering lightly over my back — protective, but never possessive. Just enough to say she's mine without saying anything at all.
Then, after classes, I'd find him again — leaning casually against the car, phone in hand, looking up the moment he sensed me.
And every time, that same small flutter.
That same quiet magic.
One Friday, Dane waved at me from the campus garden. "Hey, Jay! Over here!"
I jogged over, fixing my ponytail. "Sorry, had to drop something at the library."
"No worries," he said, adjusting his bag. "I was just about to grab lunch. Want to come?"
"Sure," I said. "Clara's not joining?"
He hesitated. "Nah. She said she's busy. Probably avoiding you."
I gave a little laugh. "She's not very subtle, huh?"
He smiled sheepishly. "She'll warm up eventually. You just… remind her of someone she doesn't like."
"Wow. That's comforting."
"Hey, I said eventually," he said, chuckling. "Anyway, let's go before—"
"—before your boyfriend appears out of nowhere," came a familiar voice behind us.
We both turned. Keifer was walking toward us, hands in his pockets, the usual confident stride. My breath caught just a little — because how did he always manage to look so effortlessly good?
"Speak of the devil," Dane muttered good-naturedly.
Keifer grinned. "What's up, man?"
"All good," Dane said, shaking his hand. "Heading to lunch."
"I figured," Keifer said smoothly. "Mind if I steal Jay for a minute?"
Dane raised a brow, pretending to sigh. "Can I even stop you?"
"Not a chance," Keifer said.
When Dane left, Keifer turned to me with a teasing look. "Lunch date?"
"It's not like that."
He leaned closer, lowering his voice. "You sure?"
I crossed my arms. "You're ridiculous."
He tilted his head, smiling. "You like me ridiculous."
"Maybe," I said, eyes narrowing. "Just a little."
His hand brushed mine — slow, deliberate. "Just like that?"
"Keifer," I said softly, but he didn't move away. His thumb traced circles against my knuckles, and even in the crowded courtyard, it felt like we were the only two people there.
"Stop distracting me," I muttered.
"Then stop looking so distractible," he shot back.
I glared — he smirked — and the moment stretched, warm and stupidly electric.
That evening, the ride home was quiet in that comfortable way we'd grown used to. Music played softly from the radio, the city's sunset painting everything in gold.
I glanced at him. "You're quiet."
He looked at me briefly, smiling. "Just enjoying the view."
I rolled my eyes. "Flirt."
He laughed, reaching over to brush a bit of hair off my cheek. "You're cute when you pretend you don't like it."
I opened my mouth to retort, but my heart betrayed me — beating faster than it should. His hand lingered for a second too long before resting back on the wheel.
"Keifer," I said after a moment, "thank you… for always picking me up."
He shrugged lightly. "You don't have to thank me for something I want to do."
"I still should."
"Then thank me with coffee tomorrow."
I smiled. "Deal."
When we reached home, he parked in front of the gate, engine still running. The world outside was a blur of evening noise — crickets, distant traffic, the faint chatter of neighbors. But inside the car, everything slowed.
I turned to him. "You're staying over at Northbridge late again tomorrow?"
He nodded. "Probably. Group project."
"With Aries?"
"Yeah. He's bringing Ella."
I smiled. "She said she's excited to work with you."
"She's easy to work with," he said. "They're a good team."
"You like Ella, right?" I asked — and immediately realized how that sounded. "I mean, as a friend."
He laughed softly. "Relax, Jay. She's Aries' girl. And besides…" He looked at me then, voice dropping to a near whisper. "I already have mine."
And just like that, my heartbeat forgot how to function.
He leaned forward, his hand finding mine again. "I'll see you tomorrow?"
I nodded, words stuck somewhere between my heart and throat. "Yeah."
He smiled faintly, his thumb brushing the back of my hand. "Goodnight, Jay."
Before I could say anything, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to my forehead — slow, tender, and impossibly gentle. It felt like the world stilled for that one second. I didn't move. Couldn't.
"Goodnight," I whispered back.
He smiled before letting me go, his car rolling away as the gate clicked shut behind me. My knees felt weak. My heart — hopelessly, absolutely gone.
Inside, Tita Gemma was still awake, reading a magazine on the couch. "Late ka na naman, Jay. (You're late again.) Didn't I say to come home before dinner?"
I froze. "Ah — traffic po. (Traffic, ma'am.)"
She gave me that knowing look. "Traffic, or Keifer?"
"Traffic," I insisted, though I could feel my cheeks burning.
"Hmm." She didn't look convinced, but she smiled anyway. "You look happy, hija."
"Just tired," I said quickly, walking toward the stairs. "Goodnight, Tita."
"Goodnight, sweetheart."
Upstairs, the moment my door clicked shut, I exhaled. I sat on my bed, pulling my knees up to my chest, my face buried in my hands.
That forehead kiss replayed in my mind on an endless loop.
My phone buzzed.
Keifer 💙:Did you get inside safe?Jay:Yup. You?Keifer 💙:Almost home. You left your scarf in the car.Jay:You can keep it. You like stealing my things anyway.Keifer 💙:I only steal what's mine.Jay:Smooth.Keifer 💙:Honest.
I stared at the last word a long time, smiling helplessly.
Maybe it wasn't just sweet routine anymore.Maybe it was something quieter, deeper — a connection that didn't need grand gestures, just the simple rhythm of showing up.
Keifer's POV
Driving home, I couldn't stop smiling. Her scent — that faint vanilla mixed with something I couldn't name — still lingered in the car. I replayed her laugh, the way her hand fit perfectly into mine.
Jay-Jay .She had this way of making the world feel lighter, even when she wasn't trying.
I thought about how she looked at Dane earlier — not with interest, but with kindness. And yet, a small, irrational part of me still stirred. The need to protect, to claim, to hold her a little closer.
Maybe it was selfish.Maybe it was love.
As I reached the stoplight near my dorm, her message popped up again: You can keep it. You like stealing my things anyway.
I smiled to myself, whispering into the quiet, "Only because they remind me of you."
Then, softly — almost unconsciously — I added, "Always."