| Author POV |
In the quiet stillness of 3:00 AM, the kitchen of the Farnandez estate became a stage for a ritual only two people truly understood. To the brothers standing in the doorway, it was a scene of utter madness—their sister, the "Titan," sitting on a cold marble counter in a dirty hoodie, demanding spicy pancakes. this was the rawest glimpse of their bond.
To Jay Jay, the clean hoodie from the cupboard was a "liar." It smelled like a laundry room, not like safety. She wanted the one that smelled like Keifer—the faint scent of his expensive coffee, the lingering royal oud, and that raw, masculine scent of his skin and the sweat from a long day of carrying her through her tantrums. That scent was her true "alomanopy." It was the only thing that grounded her when her world felt like it was spinning.
Keifer stood between her knees, leaning into her space. He knew her weirdest cravings better than he knew the London stock exchange. He knew that right now, she needed a culinary disaster to feel human again. Before he turned to the stove, he leaned down and captured her lips in a soft, lingering peck, silencing her sleepy protests.
"You're a very expensive president to keep, Keifer," Jay Jay whispered against his lips, her eyes barely open as she clung to the collar of his hoodie. "Between the hoodies and the 3:00 AM labor, the alomanopy is going to bankrupt me."
"It's a good thing I'm worth it" Keifer murmured, his voice a deep, private rumble. "Now, do you want the chili flakes in the batter or as a garnish? I know you're in a 'burn the world' mood."
"In the batter," she pouted, her voice thick with sleep. "I want the spice to be a surprise, like your attitude. And I want the syrup to be thick enough to trap a small animal. If I can't feel my tongue by 3:15, I'm taking the Snorlax and moving to the guest house."
"You'd last five minutes in the guest house without me to check the water temperature," Keifer countered, reaching for the cayenne pepper with a ghost of a smirk.
"I'd hire a replacement!" she squeaked, though she snuggled deeper into the scent of his sweat. "I'd hire a man who doesn't talk back."
"No, you wouldn't," Keifer said, turning to the grill. "You'd fire him for smelling like laundry detergent and not knowing the 'Royal Treatment.'"
From the doorway, Angelo groaned, "I am literally standing here. I am the Chairman of a global corporation, and I am watching my sister negotiate a divorce over a chili-flake pancake."
"Go away, Kuya!" Jay Jay yelled without opening her eyes. "You don't understand the depth of our legal battle! It's very emotional and involves a lot of sodium!"
"She's right, Kuya," Mica whispered from the shadows of the hallway. "The tension is spicy, just like the breakfast. Let the Alimony King cook."
The kitchen was no longer just a room; it was a sanctuary where Keifer's "magic" was on full display. As Jay Jay took the first bite of the chocolate-chili-pretzel disaster, the air in the room shifted.
The girl who had spent the last twenty-four hours shrieking at the top of her lungs suddenly went silent. She didn't scream. She didn't throw the plate. Instead, she let out a long, shaky, and incredibly happy hum. She chewed slowly, her eyes fluttering shut as she leaned her head against Keifer's shoulder.
"It's perfect," she whispered, her voice honey-sweet and completely calm. "It burns my tongue just enough to make the sadness go away. It's... delicious, Keifer. You're a genius husband."
Standing by the refrigerator, the Watson brothers looked like they had just been slapped with a cold fish. The jealousy was thick enough to rival the smell of the chili.
"Delicious?" Angelo whispered, his voice cracking with pure envy. "I offered her a Michelin-star mango float and she called it 'an insult to her lineage.' He puts bird's eye chili in a pancake and she calls him a genius?"
"It's the hoodie," Percy hissed, clutching his silk robe. "She's high on his scent. Look at her! She's purring! I tried to give her the finest Egyptian silk and she told me I was trying to make her 'float away into the abyss.' Why does he get the cuddles and I get the flying loofah?"
"I even got the meat thermometer out," Aries grumbled, crossing his arms and glaring at Keifer's back. "I tried to be precise! But I didn't know about the 'spicy surprise' batter. How does he know the exact ratio of cayenne to chocolate? It's not in the family archives!"
Eman leaned over to Rory, smirking. "It's not in the archives because it's in his heart, man. You guys are reading the manual; Keifer is the one who wrote it."
Jay Jay looked over at her brothers, her face smeared with a bit of syrup, looking impossibly cute in the oversized hoodie. "Why are you guys standing there like gargoyles?" she asked, licking a bit of honey off her thumb.
"Are you jealous of my alomanopy? You should be. Keifer knows that the spice helps the cramps. You guys just know how to turn on the lights and ruin my vibe."
"We just want to be useful!" Angelo burst out, looking truly wounded. "I'm your big brother, Jay! I should be the one making the 3:00 AM emergency snacks!"
"Then learn the 'Royal Treatment', Kuya!" Jay Jay giggled, snuggling back into Keifer's side. "Until then, you're just the intern in this marriage."
"I AM NOT AN INTERN AND YOU'RE NOT MARRIED!" Angelo shrieked, while Ella and Mica fell over laughing in the background.
"In my mind I'm"😌She said to Angelo he looked at keifer and just kill him 4 time in his mind.
Keifer didn't say a word. He just wiped a stray drop of syrup from Jay Jay's cheek and kissed her temple, his eyes meeting the brothers' with a look of calm, silent victory. He didn't need to brag; the empty plate and the quiet girl in his arms said everything.
The trio stood huddled in the dim hallway outside Room 302, clutching a wicker basket like it held radioactive waste.
Aries whispered, checking the corners. "We swap our gym-matted rags for his load, we retreat, and we finally figure out if he's human or a walking diffuser."
Angelo picked the lock with a trembling paperclip. The door clicked, and the scent hit them—not the expected funk of a bachelor pad, but a crisp, airy breeze that made their lungs feel expensive.
"Focus," Percy hissed, nudging them toward the hum of the dryer.
They scrambled to the machine, hearts hammering against their ribs. Aries yanked the door open, and a cloud of warm, fragrant steam billowed out, enveloping them in a mist that felt like a spa treatment. They dove in, pulling out a handful of hoodies and cotton tees that were impossibly soft, still radiating a gentle, supernatural heat.
That's when they made the mistake of taking a breath.
"Oh no," Angelo whimpered. "It's... it's actually delightful. It's like cedarwood, toasted vanilla, and... is that a hint of rain?"
"Let me see!" Percy snatched it, inhaling deeply. A look of betrayal crossed his face. "It smells like a hug from a forest god. How is this possible? He never wears cologne! Why does his sweat smell like a luxury candle?"
Aries took a sniff and slumped against the wall, defeated. "We're doomed. We smell like expensive soap and effort. He smells like peace."
But jay jay catch them red handed.
The fashion show reached its grand finale when Jay Jay disappeared into the master suite and emerged wearing the "Crown Jewel" of the collection: the heavy, jet-black oversized hoodie Keifer had owned since 967 days.
It wasn't just clothing; it was a sensory experience. The fabric was so thick and plush it felt like being hugged by a warm cloud, yet it had a "royal" weight to it that made Jay Jay feel like a queen in a charcoal castle.
The hem hit her mid-thigh, and the sleeves were so long she had to "scrunch" them up just to show her fingertips. Best of all, it was saturated with that signature scent—cool rain, expensive wood, and a hint of the spice he'd been cooking earlier.
Keifer, who had been patiently watching the "theft" of his entire wardrobe, finally stood up when he saw the black fabric. His eyes softened, but he made a desperate play for his favorite piece.
But that one is his favourite.
"Jay... please," Keifer said, walking over and gently catching the extra-long strings of the hoodie. "Not that one. It's my favorite. It's the softest one I have."
Jay Jay did a little wiggle, the heavy fabric swishing around her. She looked up at him, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "No, it's mine now," she hummed, tucking her nose into the collar. "It smells exactly like you. It's like carrying a tiny Keifer around all day."
Keifer gave a tiny, defeated tug on the sleeve. "It's mine... 🥲" he whispered, his voice dropping into that rare, playful pout he only showed her. "I need it for the flight in days. It's my lucky one."
"No, it's mine," she insisted, hugging herself. "I'm the luckiest thing you have, so it belongs on me. I'm protecting it from the 'dead elephant' energy in the hallway."
Keifer leaned down, his forehead resting against hers, his hands still holding the soft black sleeves. "But Jay... it's my big comfy shirt. My favorite..."
"Nuh-uh," she whispered back, booping his nose with her "sweater-paw" hand. "It's mine. It's my royal robe. You're just my royal tailor. Go wear a boring t-shirt. 😌"
"It's mine... please? 🥲"
"No. It's mine. 😌😌"
In the background, Angelo let out a strangled sob. "He's begging! The man who negotiated a three-billion-dollar oil deal is begging for a sweatshirt! And she's winning! Why is her 'No' so powerful?!"
Keifer sighed, a sound of pure adoration, and just wrapped his arms around her—hoodie and all. "Fine. If it's yours, then you're mine. I guess I'll just have to hug the hoodie while you're inside it."
Jay Jay smirked at her brothers over Keifer's shoulder. "See? This is how it's done, interns. Take notes."
The brothers decided that if they couldn't beat Keifer's scent, they would bury it under a mountain of luxury.
An hour later, the living room looked like a high-end department store had exploded. There were stacks of cashmere sweaters, limited-edition silk hoodies, and velvet robes piled so high they nearly touched the chandelier.
"Jay Jay! Look!" Angelo announced, gesturing wildly at a pile of baby-pink cashmere. "We got you the 'Royal Cloud' collection! It's softer than Keifer's hoodie! It was hand-spun by monks! Just... give the man his black sweatshirt back. He looks cold."
Jay Jay, still submerged in the massive black hoodie, waddled over to the pile. She poked a cashmere sweater with a "sweater-paw."
"Ooh, soft," she murmured. She began scooping up the new clothes, dragging them into a pile near the sofa. "I'll take these. And the silk one. And the one with the gold buttons."
"Great!" Percy sighed with relief, reaching for the black hoodie strings. "Now, give us the 'stinky' one so we can burn it—I mean, return it."
Jay Jay slapped his hand away. "Mine. 😌😌"
"Jay!" Angelo wailed. "We just spent a fortune! That was the deal! New clothes for the hoodie!"
"No," Jay Jay chirped, hugging the black fabric tighter. "These are gifts for being a good sister. The hoodie is my soulmate. It stays."
Keifer walked in, looking like a lost puppy in a thin undershirt. He saw his favorite hoodie being guarded like a dragon's treasure. He walked up to Jay Jay, his voice dropping into that soft, sugary that made the brothers want to jump off the balcony.
"Jay... please... 🥲" Keifer whispered, leaning down so his face was level with hers. "It's my favorite-est one. I'm cold. Can your Keifer have his hoodie back? 🥲"
Jay Jay pouted, her bottom lip poking out from the oversized collar. "But Jay Jay is cozy," she whispered back in a tiny voice. "If I give it back, the magic goes away. It's mine now, Keifer. It's my house. I live here now. 😌"
"But it's so big on you," Keifer nudged her shoulder with his nose. "It's my big shirt. Jay has her own pink ones now. Please? Just for a little bit? 🥲"
"Nuh-uh," Jay Jay giggled, booping his chin. "It's mine. It smells like my favorite person. Why would I give away a hug? You have the new ones! You wear the pink cashmere! 😌😌"
"Jay... 🥲"
"Mine. 😌😌😌"
Keifer let out a tiny, dramatic sigh and slumped his forehead against her chest—which was just a wall of his own black hoodie. "Jay is a meanie... stealing Keifer's heart and his clothes... 🥲"
"Jay is a queen," she corrected, patting his head. "And the queen says: go put on a sweater or come cuddle. Those are your only options, intern."
Angelo dropped to his knees. "He's doing the puppy eyes! And she's ignoring them! We've lost, brothers. We've lost everything."
The room went dead silent as Jay Jay reached into the mountain of luxury gifts and pulled out the most neon, baby-pink hoodie in the pile—the one Angelo had claimed was "spun by monks."
"Wear this," she commanded, shoving the soft pink fabric into Keifer's chest.
Keifer blinked, looking at the tiny, delicate hoodie and then at his own broad shoulders. "Jay, I don't think I'll even fit into that. It's for a princess, not a... well, me."
"I want your fragrance in this!" she insisted, stomping her foot. "Wear it for an hour. Make it smell like the forest and the rain. Then I'll have a backup for when this one is in the wash. Do it!"
The brothers watched in silent horror as Keifer—the man who struck fear into the hearts of CEOs—slowly pulled the baby-pink hoodie over his head. He look Very dangerous marshmallow and good in this.
"He... he actually did it," Percy whispered, traumatized. "He's wearing the monk-spun pink."
Keifer adjusted the cuffs, then leaned down, his lips brushing against Jay Jay's ear. His voice dropped to a dark, silken murmur that only she could hear, a sharp contrast to the ridiculous pink fabric he was wearing.
"Okay..." he whispered, his breath warm against her skin. "But only on one condition."
He let out a low, devastating smirk that made Jay Jay's heart do a backflip. "Once I've put my scent in this for you... tonight, you cuddle with me without any piece of clothes."
Jay Jay's smug expression froze. Her face turned a shade of red that actually matched the pink hoodie.
"Keifer!" she squeaked, swatting his arm.
"Is that a 'no'?" he teased, his eyes dancing with victory as he stood back up, looking perfectly comfortable in his new, tight pink outfit. "Because if I'm wearing the princess shirt, I expect the princess treatment later."
"What did he say?!" Angelo shouted from the sofa, suspicious. "Why is Jay Jay turning into a tomato? Keifer, what the hell did you tell her?!"
Keifer just winked at his brothers, the "pink marshmallow" suddenly looking like the most confident man in the world. "Just discussing the terms of the lease on my black hoodie, Angelo. Carry on."
Later that night, the house was finally quiet. The brothers had retreated to their rooms to scrub the "dead elephant" scent off themselves, and the mountain of pink cashmere sat abandoned in the living room.
In the master suite, the air was warm and smelled faintly of the chili-chocolate Keifer had made earlier. Jay Jay was standing by the bed, still clutching the oversized black hoodie like a security blanket, looking at Keifer with wide, hesitant eyes.
Keifer was already under the duvet, his chest bare, looking perfectly relaxed. He patted the space next to him. "Time to pay up, Jay."
"Keifer..." she whispered, fidgeting with the hem. "About the 'no clothes' rule..."
"No," he said, his voice a smooth, playful rumble. "😌 Nothing. Just skin. That was the deal for the pink hoodie."
"But I'm on my period!" she blurted out, her face heating up. "I'll ruin the sheets! I'll ruin everything!"
Keifer didn't even blink. He just leaned back against the headboard, looking at her with a gaze so steady it made her toes curl. "It's okay. I don't care about the ruin. 😌 Sheets can be washed, Jay. I just want to feel you."
"Please?" she tried her best puppy-dog eyes. "Just one layer?"
"No, 😌" he replied, popping the 'p'.
Jay Jay puffed out her cheeks, realizing she was losing the battle against the man who had worn a neon pink hoodie just for her. "Okay... fine. But at least ,this? For the 'ruining' part?"
Keifer paused, looking at her pouty, blushing face. His expression softened from "victorious husband" to "protective pillow." He let out a long, defeated breath and pulled back the covers for her.
"Ummm... okay," he murmured, his voice turning into that sweet again. "If you say so. 🧸 But that's the only compromise. Come here, little marshmallow."
Jay Jay didn't wait. She scrambled into the bed, feeling the instant warmth of his skin against hers as he pulled her flush against his chest. His arms wrapped around her like iron bands, and his chin rested perfectly on top of her head.
"See?" she whispered, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. "Still skin-to-skin. Just... safe skin."
"Quiet, thief," he muttered, though he was already tucking the blanket tightly around her to make sure she was warm. "You still owe me for the pink hoodie. I'm charging interest tomorrow."
"Is the interest more pancakes?"
"Go to sleep,love."