Jay-Jay's POV
"YOU ULUPONG!!!" I crossed my arms, trying to look mad, but the smell of the
creamy pasta made it impossible to keep up the act. My stomach growled loud
enough for Keifer to smirk.
"You can call me snake all you want," he said, plating the pasta. "But I'm a snake who
cooks."
I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, a snake who might burn the kitchen down."
As if on cue, he yelped. "Ow!" He jerked his arm back, bumping the pan.
I rushed over. "See?! You just proved my point!" I grabbed a towel, running it under
cold water and pressing it gently to his arm. "You're supposed to make food, not fight
it!"
Keifer chuckled. "Guess I deserved that." His grin softened. "Thanks though… for
helping."
"Someone has to keep you alive."
We both laughed, and somehow I realized how close we were — his face just inches
from mine. For a second, the room felt warmer than the stove. Before I could overthink
it, he leaned forward and kissed me — gentle, warm, unexpected.
When we pulled apart, I blinked, half trying to scold him, half smiling. "You're injured,
remember? Sit down before you hurt yourself again."
He obeyed, rubbing the back of his neck as I twirled some pasta with a fork.
"Open up, Mr. Ulupong," I teased, holding the fork out toward him.
He grinned. "Only because the queen of my heart told me to."
I fed him a bite.