Chapter 20: Trouble, and Terrible Self-Control.
(Keifer's POV)
Jay thinks she's subtle.
She isn't.
Not even a little.
I woke up sometime in the middle of the night because something warm was pressed against my arm. For a second I thought it was another hospital pillow that someone had shoved beside me.
Then the pillow sighed.
Soft.
Annoyed.
And my brain caught up.
Jay.
She had somehow fallen asleep half on the bed and half off it, curled awkwardly beside me like a cat that didn't fully trust the furniture. One arm was draped across my stomach, careful but still possessive, like even in sleep she was making sure I didn't disappear again.
I stared at the ceiling for a moment.
Then at her.
Her hair was a complete disaster, tangled across my shoulder and partially covering her face. Her breathing was slow, steady, warm against my collarbone.
And for a solid minute I considered the very real possibility that if I moved—
She would murder me.
But another thought came in.
A much worse one.
Because Jay sleeping this close to me is a dangerous situation for someone with my level of self-control.
Which is currently low.
Very low.
I shifted slightly to adjust my position, careful of the stitches pulling across my ribs. The movement made her stir immediately.
Her grip tightened.
Possessive.
Then her eyes opened halfway.
She blinked up at me like someone who had just been dragged out of a dream and wasn't sure if reality was worth the effort.
"…You moved."
"Barely."
"You're supposed to be resting."
"I was."
"You're awake."
"That's not a crime."
Her eyes narrowed slowly.
"You're smiling."
I didn't even try to hide it.
"You're drooling on my arm."
Her face went completely still.
"…I am not."
"You absolutely are."
She jerked upright so fast she almost fell off the bed.
"I was not drooling!"
"You were cuddling."
"I was not cuddling!"
"Jay."
She glared.
"Keifer."
"We both know what that was."
"I fell asleep."
"On me."
"Because you're injured!"
"And apparently comfortable."
She grabbed the nearest pillow and smacked me with it.
Which was a mistake.
Because laughing still hurts my ribs.
"Stop—"
I hissed slightly and grabbed my side.
Jay froze immediately.
"Oh my god."
"I'm fine."
"No you're not!"
"You assaulted a recovering patient."
"You deserved it!"
She leaned closer, inspecting my face like a doctor who had absolutely no license.
"Does it hurt?"
"Only when I laugh."
"Then stop laughing!"
"You're very funny."
"I am not trying to be funny."
"You're failing."
She sighed dramatically and sat back down on the bed.
Then crossed her arms.
Then glared at me like I had personally caused all of her problems.
"You're impossible."
"And yet."
"And yet what?"
"You stayed."
She opened her mouth.
Closed it.
Then muttered something that sounded suspiciously like gago under her breath.
Which meant one thing.
I leaned closer slowly.
Her eyes widened.
"Don't."
"You said the word."
"That doesn't count!"
"It absolutely counts."
"You're manipulating the rules!"
"Jay."
"What."
"You insulted me."
She sighed loudly.
Then grabbed my shirt and kissed me quickly.
A quick one.
Sharp.
Like she was paying a tax she hated.
I stared at her.
"That was barely legal."
"You are unbelievable."
"I'm also still owed interest."
"You're not owed interest!"
"Emotional damages."
"You are the emotional damage!"
That one made me laugh again.
Which hurt again.
Which made her panic again.
This cycle may kill me before my injuries do.
She pressed her hand gently against my chest, feeling my breathing settle.
Her expression softened.
"You need sleep."
"I slept for eleven days."
"That was a coma."
"Still counts."
"It does not count."
I tilted my head slightly.
"You look tired."
She rolled her eyes.
"Of course I'm tired."
"You stayed awake again."
"I was watching you."
"You watch me like I'm a science experiment."
"That's because you keep doing stupid things!"
"I almost died. That qualifies as dramatic."
"You did not almost die."
"Jay."
"You didn't."
"Jay."
"You didn't!"
I reached out slowly and caught her wrist.
Her voice stopped.
"You looked like you were going to shatter when I didn't wake up," I said quietly.
Her eyes dropped.
"That was different."
"How."
"You weren't there."
"I'm here now."
"Barely."
"I survived a drunk driver and a coma. I think I'm durable."
She looked up again.
"You're not durable."
"What am I."
"Important."
That word landed harder than anything else she'd said.
Important.
Not strong.
Not scary.
Not untouchable.
Just important.
To her.
I swallowed slowly.
"Well," I said lightly, "that's a lot of pressure."
She rolled her eyes again, but her lips twitched.
"Go to sleep, idiot."
"Yes, ma'am."
Her face turned pink instantly.
"Stop saying that!"
"Why."
"You know why."
"Interesting reaction."
"You are such a pervert."
"Accurate."
She hit my shoulder again.
Soft.
Careful.
And stayed sitting beside me long after she told me to sleep.
(Jay's POV)
Keifer Watson is a menace.
A menace to society.
A menace to hospitals.
And a menace to my sanity.
I told him to sleep.
He did not sleep.
Instead he spent the next twenty minutes staring at me like I was some fascinating documentary.
"What."
"I'm observing."
"You're creeping me out."
"I'm admiring."
"That's worse."
He grinned.
Which should be illegal when someone has stitches and a concussion.
"You look nice when you're bossy."
"I am not bossy."
"You scheduled my meals."
"That's called survival!"
"You threatened to force-feed me soup."
"You deserved it!"
"You also tried to confiscate my phone."
"You were texting while dizzy!"
"That was necessary communication."
"You were flirting with Angelo."
His eyes widened dramatically.
"I was not flirting with Angelo."
"You winked."
"That was sarcasm."
"That was flirting."
"That was strategy."
I stared at him.
"Strategy for what."
"To make you jealous."
My brain stopped for a second.
"…Why would you do that."
He leaned closer slightly.
"Because when you're jealous you climb into my bed."
I shoved his shoulder.
"YOU ARE INSANE."
He laughed again.
Then immediately winced.
"You did that to yourself!"
"Worth it."
"You're unbelievable."
"And yet you're still here."
I tried to think of a response.
There wasn't one.
Because he wasn't wrong.
I was still here.
Even though he drives me crazy.
Even though he's reckless.
Even though he almost died.
My chest tightened again just thinking about it.
"You scared me," I muttered quietly.
His teasing faded immediately.
"I know."
"I hated those eleven days."
"I did too."
"You were unconscious!"
"Exactly. I missed everything."
"You missed nothing."
"I missed you."
That shut me up instantly.
He reached for my hand slowly.
I let him.
His fingers wrapped around mine carefully, like he was still worried about hurting me somehow.
"You stayed the whole time," he said softly.
"Obviously."
"You could have gone home."
"No."
"You could have slept."
"No."
"You could have eaten properly."
I hesitated.
He sighed.
"Jay."
"Don't start."
"You're supposed to take care of yourself too."
"I did."
"You lost weight."
"That's not your business."
"It absolutely is."
"Why."
He looked straight at me.
Because apparently this boy has zero chill.
"Because I love you."
My heart stopped.
Completely.
The room went silent except for the faint beeping of hospital machines.
I stared at him.
"You… what."
He blinked slowly.
Then frowned slightly like he'd just realized what he said.
"Well."
"Well?!"
"That might have come out earlier than planned."
I hit him with the pillow again.
"YOU CAN'T JUST SAY THAT LIKE IT'S NOTHING!"
"I didn't say it like it's nothing."
"You said it like you were ordering coffee!"
"Jay."
"WHAT."
"I love you."
My brain short-circuited again.
"You are not allowed to say it calmly!"
"How should I say it."
"I don't know!"
"Dramatically?"
"Yes!"
He cleared his throat theatrically.
Then placed a hand over his chest like a tragic actor.
"Jay Jay—"
"Stop."
"—light of my miserable existence—"
"Stop!"
"—reason I survived being violently run over by a drunk driver—"
"That is not romantic!"
"—love of my incredibly dramatic life—"
"KEIFER!"
He burst out laughing again.
Which hurt again.
Which made me panic again.
"Stop moving!"
"I'm trying!"
"You're impossible!"
"Still love you though."
I stared at him.
Then groaned loudly and buried my face in my hands.
"This is a nightmare."
"It's a confession."
"It's chaotic."
"That's on brand."
I looked up again slowly.
"…You really mean it."
His expression softened.
Completely.
No teasing.
No smirk.
Just honest.
"Yeah."
My chest felt weird.
Too tight.
Too warm.
"You almost died," I whispered.
"And now I'm here."
"You're insane."
"Probably."
"You're dramatic."
"Definitely."
"You're a jerk."
"That one earns a kiss."
I leaned forward before he could even react.
And kissed him.
Properly.
Because apparently my brain is gone.
When I pulled back he looked stunned.
"…Well."
"Shut up."
"That was enthusiastic."
"Shut up!"
"I should confess more often."
I grabbed another pillow.
"Say one more word and I swear—"
He caught my wrist again.
Pulled me slightly closer.
And whispered against my ear—
"Worth it."
And the worst part?
He's absolutely right.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Hey everyone!!
I'm posting extra chapters cause I won't be able to post from 17 march my final exams will start if I get time I'll definitely post a chapter, i don't think I'll be able to post on Monday and Tuesday because of personal issues. But I'll try.
Hope you understand.
Bye bye 🌷 🫶🏻