(Jay's POV)
It was finally happening. One day after my 18th birthday, I was officially moving into the Watson mansion. I still couldn't believe Kuya Angelo actually said yes—though I'm pretty sure Keifer used some sort of high-level intimidation or a very expensive bribe to get that permission.
"Stop daydreaming, Wife. We're here," Keifer said, his voice dropping into that low, husky tone that still gave me goosebumps. He parked the car and leaned over, unbuckling my seatbelt for me, his face lingering just inches from mine.
"I'm not daydreaming! I'm just... making sure this isn't a dream," I stammered, feeling my face heat up.
He smirked, that arrogant, handsome Keifer smirk. "Even in your dreams, I'm this good-looking."
We headed inside, but instead of the usual chaos I expected from the Section E boys, the house was quiet. Yesterday at the party, Keifer had been weirdly low-key. He didn't give me a grand gift in front of the Ulupongs, which honestly hurt a little. I thought maybe he forgot.
But as soon as we entered his room, I gasped.
On the bed were eighteen beautifully wrapped boxes, each numbered. And in the center, a small, velvet jewelry box.
"Keifer?"
"I didn't want to share this moment with those idiots," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck, looking uncharacteristically shy. He picked up the velvet box. "I've been holding onto this since London. I saw it and only thought of you."
He opened it to reveal a stunning, delicate ring that shimmered under the lights. It wasn't just a piece of jewelry; it was a promise. My heart did a literal backflip as he slipped it onto my finger.
"Happy birthday, Jay-Jay. One day late, but now you're mine. Legally."
"I've always been yours, you arrogant jerk," I whispered, tearing up.
The romantic tension lasted about five seconds before he gestured to the boxes. "Open them later. Right now, we need to get your stuff in the wardrobe. I cleared half of it for you."
I started unpacking my suitcases, feeling all domestic and happy. Keifer was actually helping, grabbing stacks of my shirts and folding them (way neater than I do, which is annoying).
Then, it happened.
I reached for a pile of clothes, but Keifer was faster. He pulled out a bright red, lacy bra that I had definitely intended to hide at the bottom of the bag.
He held it up by one strap, dangling it in the air like a trophy. He froze, his eyes widening before a slow, devilish grin spread across his face.
"Jay-Jay..." he started, his voice dripping with mischief.
"Give it back!" I lunged for it, but he held it high above his head. Being short is a literal curse.
"Is this for me? I didn't know you were planning on being this... festive tonight," he teased, wagging his eyebrows.
"It's just laundry, Keifer! Give it!" I was jumping like a caffeinated kangaroo, but he just stepped back, laughing.
"Wait, is this the one with the little bows?
Wow, Section E's 'Precious' has a secret side." He leaned down, whispering in my ear while still holding my underwear out of reach.
"Don't worry, Wife. I'll help you organize the entire collection."
"I hate you!" I yelled, my face probably the same color as the bra.
"Liar," he chuckled, finally tossing it back onto the bed and pulling me into a hug. "You love me. And you're never leaving this house."
I buried my face in his chest, grumbling, but he was right. I was home.
Whole day we spent stacking and shifting my essentials! Then we ate a lot of snacks. Keify knows that snacks have permanent residency in my heart!!
(Morning)
Morning light filtered through the heavy curtains of Keifer's room, and for a second, I forgot where I was. I rolled over, expecting to hit the wall of my old room, but instead, I hit something warm, solid, and very naked from the waist up.
Oh. Right. Live-in.
Keifer was still fast asleep, his messy hair splayed across the pillow. He looked so peaceful when he wasn't barking orders at the Ulupongs or smirking at me. I stayed there for a bit, admiring the way his eyelashes cast shadows on his cheeks.
'He's actually mine,' I thought, looking at the London ring sparkling on my finger.
I tried to sneak out of bed to find a toothbrush, moving an inch at a time. I was almost at the edge when a strong arm suddenly hooked around my waist and yanked me back. I landed with a thud against his chest.
"Where do you think you're going, Wife?" his voice was deep and raspy with sleep—a sound that should be illegal because of what it did to my heart rate.
"To the bathroom! Let go, Keifer, I have morning breath," I squealed, trying to squirm away.
"I don't care," he mumbled, burying his face in the crook of my neck, his stubble tickling my skin. "Five more minutes. You moved in here to be with me, not the toothbrush."
"Keifer! You're being clingy," I giggled, though I secretly loved it.
"I'm not clingy. I'm territorial," he corrected, finally opening one eye to look at me. The mischief from last night returned instantly.
"Besides, I need to make sure you didn't hide any more of those red 'festive' items in the wardrobe while I was sleeping."
"You are never going to let that go, are you?" I groaned, grabbing a pillow and shoving it into his face.
He laughed, muffled behind the pillow, before pinning my wrists above my head. "Never. Now, since it's our first official morning, you have two choices: I make you breakfast, or you stay here and keep me warm."
"Can I choose a third option where you stop teasing me and let me pee?"
"Denied," he grinned, leaning in to plant a lingering kiss on my forehead. "Welcome home, Jay-Jay."
I stopped struggling and just smiled. Living with Mark Keifer Watson was going to be chaotic, embarrassing, and probably involve a lot of blushing, but looking at him, I knew I wouldn't want to be anywhere else.
Just as Keifer leaned in, a frantic, heavy metal ringtone blasted from the nightstand. I nearly fell off the bed as Keifer groaned, burying his face in the mattress before blindly reaching for his phone.
"Who the hell is calling at 7:00 AM on a Sunday?" Keifer growled, his voice deep and dangerous.
I peeked over his shoulder and saw the caller ID: KUYA ANGELO.
"Oh no," I whispered, the blood draining from my face. "Keifer, it's Kuya! Give it here!"
Keifer sat up, shaking his head. He swiped to answer and put it on speaker before I could stop him.
"WHAT?" Keifer barked.
"DON'T 'WHAT' ME, WATSON!" Kuya Angelo's voice boomed through the speakers, sounding like he'd been drinking three espressos while pacing a hole in the floor. "I've been staring at the clock for exactly eight hours. Is she awake? Did you feed her? Why is it so quiet in the background? If I hear so much as a suspicious rustle, I am coming over with the entire Section A and a priest."
"Relax, Angelo," Keifer said, smirking at me as he tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear. "She's fine. We were just... discussing our morning schedule." "Kuya!" I yelled, leaning toward the phone. "I'm okay! We're just... organizing the wardrobe!""Organizing?" Angelo's voice turned suspicious. "Jay, why do you sound out of breath? And Keifer, why are you smirking? I can hear you smirking through the phone!"
"It's called being happy, Angelo. You should try it," Keifer teased.
"LISTEN TO ME, MARK KEIFER WATSON," Angelo shouted, and I could practically see his "Mafia Boss" vibes through the signal. "I gave you permission to live together because I trust Jay-Jay, not because I trust your shifty Watson genes. If she calls me crying, or even slightly annoyed, I will personally see to it that you spend your next birthday in London—permanently."
"Don't worry, Kuya," I said, trying to sound as normal as possible while Keifer started tracing circles on my hand with his thumb. "He's being a... perfect gentleman."
Keifer let out a soft, low chuckle that definitely didn't sound "gentlemanly," and I saw Angelo's name flash as he hung up in a fit of overprotective rage.
"Your brother is going to give me a heart attack," Keifer sighed, tossing the phone back.
"Well, you did tell him you'd 'mostly' behave," I reminded him.
He leaned back, pulling me with him. "Mostly. But for now, we should probably go down for breakfast before he actually shows up at the front door with a shotgun."
We weren't even halfway through our first morning coffee when a series of loud bangs shook the front door. Before Keifer could even stand up to check, the locks clicked (thanks to Ci-N, no doubt), and a stampede of noise flooded the kitchen.
"HOUSEWARMING SURPRISE!" the Ulupongs screamed in unison.
"What the—?!" Keifer's grip on his mug tightened so hard I thought it might shatter.
Ci-N was the first one in, wearing a party hat that was way too big for him. "Jay-Jay! We brought gifts! Since King was too stingy to let us come over yesterday, we decided to bring the party to you!"
The rest of the boys filed in, each holding the most chaotic "housewarming" gifts I had ever seen:
Ci-N: A giant, five-foot stuffed "Barakuda" plushie. "So you don't get lonely when Keifer is being a jerk!"
David: A literal fire extinguisher. "Based on Keifer's cooking skills, you'll need this by lunch," he said, perfectly calm as always.
By the way, my hubby cooks better than anyone in the world!!
Felix & Eman: A "survival kit" consisting of instant noodles, earplugs (for Keifer's shouting), and a map of the nearest exits.
Edrix : A box of expensive chocolates, which he handed to me while glaring at Keifer. "For the Mutya. If he treats you bad, the offer to move into my place still stands."
"Get out," Keifer growled, his face turning that specific shade of red that meant someone was about to get tackled.
"Aw, don't be like that, King!" Mayo chirped, already opening Keifer's fridge. "We even brought breakfast! Well, we brought the ingredients. You're cooking."
"I am not cooking for you idiots," Keifer snapped, but he didn't actually kick them out. He just stood there, looking at the chaos of his once-pristine kitchen, then looked at me.
I was leaning against the counter, clutching the giant Barakuda and laughing so hard I couldn't breathe. This was Section E. My move-in wasn't complete without them causing a minor riot.
"Fine," Keifer sighed, grabbing a pan. "But if anyone touches Jay-Jay's 18 gifts, I'm burying you in the backyard."
"Challenge accepted!" Blaster yelled, already heading for the stairs.
"BLASTER, NO!" I screamed, chasing after him.
It took five hours, three burnt pans, and a very stern threat from Keifer involving a baseball bat, but the Ulupongs finally cleared out. The house was suddenly, blissfully quiet.
I collapsed onto the sofa, my hair a mess and my ribs aching from laughing at Ci-N trying to ride the giant stuffed Barakuda down the stairs. Keifer stood in the middle of the living room, looking like he'd just survived a war. His designer shirt was wrinkled, and there was a literal smudge of flour on his cheek.
"Finally," he breathed, locking the front door with a satisfying click. "If they ever come back without an invitation, I'm changing the DNA locks."
He walked over and slumped down next to me, pulling me into his side. "You okay, Wife? That wasn't exactly the 'romantic' morning I planned."
"It was perfect, Keifer," I giggled, leaning my head on his shoulder. "It wouldn't be home without the chaos of Section E."
He hummed in response, his hand sliding down to interlock with mine, his thumb grazing the London ring. "The boys are gone. Your brother is hopefully distracted. Now... where were we before we were so rudely interrupted?"
My heart skipped. "I think you were about to show me those eighteen gifts?"
He stood up, offering me his hand with a sophisticated bow that made him look like the Prince he actually was. He led me back upstairs to his room. The boxes were still there, untouched (mostly because he'd threatened to break the fingers of anyone who moved them).
He handed me the first box—the smallest one. "This is for the year we met. When you were just the annoying girl who wouldn't stop getting into trouble."
I opened it to find a beautifully preserved, gold-plated whistle. I looked at him, confused.
"So you can always call for me," he whispered, his eyes softening. "Even if I'm on the other side of the world."
One by one, I opened the gifts. Each one represented a year of my life or a memory we shared—from expensive perfumes to a simple keychain of a bratty-looking cat that "looked like me."
By the time I got to the 18th gift, I was a crying mess. It was a scrapbook. Inside were photos of us—ones I didn't even know he had. Photos of me sleeping in class, us arguing in the rain, and even a blurry shot of our first "real" kiss.
"Keifer... this is too much," I sobbed, hugging the book to my chest.
"It's not enough," he murmured, pulling me into a deep, slow kiss that tasted like coffee and promises. He pulled back just an inch, his forehead resting against mine. "I missed eighteen years of your life, Jay-Jay. I'm making sure I'm there for the next eighty."
I smiled through my tears, feeling like the luckiest girl in the world. "I love you, you arrogant King."
"I know," he smirked, the old Keifer coming back for a second. "Now, let's go put that red bra back in the wardrobe before I change my mind about being a gentleman."
"KEIFER!"
Then keifer went downstairs and I really felt that the house was finally quiet, the only sound being the distant hum of the air conditioner. Keifer was downstairs, supposedly "cleaning up" the kitchen, though I knew he was probably just throwing away the pans David had ruined.
I stood in front of the massive walk-in wardrobe, staring at the red, lacy bra Keifer had teased me about earlier. My heart was thumping against my ribs. Was I really about to do this?
"He thinks he's the only one who can play games," I whispered to my reflection.
I quickly changed, slipping into the red lace and throwing Keifer's oversized white button-down shirt over it. I left the top three buttons undone—just enough to be dangerous—and let the sleeves hang past my fingertips.
I walked out to the balcony of his room, leaning against the railing and looking at the moon. A few minutes later, I heard the door click.
"Jay? You still awake?" Keifer's voice was tired, but it instantly sharpened when he saw me.
He walked toward the balcony, his eyes scanning me. "Why are you wearing my shirt? I thought we organized your clothes."
"I don't know," I said, turning around slowly, a mischievous glint in my eyes. "I just felt like wearing something... festive. Since it's still my birthday weekend."
I leaned back against the railing, intentionally letting the shirt slip slightly off one shoulder. The bright red lace peeked out, impossible to miss against the white fabric and my skin.
Keifer froze. His gaze dropped to the lace, and I watched his pupils dilate. The "gentleman" persona he'd been holding onto all day vanished in a heartbeat. He closed the distance between us in two strides, pinning me against the railing with his hands on either side of my waist.
"Jay-Jay," he warned, his voice dropping into a low, dangerous growl. "You have no idea what you're doing."
"Oh, I think I do," I whispered, reaching up to toy with the collar of his shirt. "You liked it earlier, didn't you? When you held it up?"
"I liked the idea of it," he murmured, his face inches from mine, his breath warm against my lips. "But seeing it on you? That's a completely different problem."
He didn't wait for a comeback. He crashed his lips onto mine, a kiss that was deep, hungry, and full of all the tension we'd been building since I stepped into this house. It wasn't the sweet, careful kiss from before; it was Keifer Watson claiming what was his.
My hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as he lifted me effortlessly, my legs wrapping around his waist. He carried me back into the room, never breaking the kiss, his hands tracing the line of the lace underneath the shirt.
"Happy birthday, Wife," he managed to say against my skin, his voice thick with emotion. "But you're definitely not getting any sleep tonight."
"Good," I breathed, pulling him back down to me. "I didn't move in here to sleep."
Keifer lay there with his head back against the pillows, staring at the ceiling and trying to get his breathing under control while I smirked at him from the other side of the bed. For the first time in his life, the "King" of Section E looked completely defeated—and it was glorious.
"You're a brat," he finally choked out, rubbing a hand over his face. "A literal, tiny, red-laced brat."
"What? I thought I was your 'Precious'?" I teased, adjusting the oversized shirt and crawling closer to poke his cheek. "You were so confident earlier holding that up. What happened to all that big talk, Keifer?"
He let out a frustrated, low groan and grabbed my hand, pulling it to his chest so I could feel how fast his heart was still thumping. "What happened is that I underestimated you. I spent year thinking you were this innocent, clueless girl I had to protect from the world... and then you go and do that."
He turned on his side, looking at me with an expression that was half-annoyed and half-completely obsessed. "You actually planned it. You waited until I was tired, until the boys were gone, and then you used my own shirt against me. That's low, Jay-Jay. Even for a Watson."
"I learned from the best," I said, leaning in until our noses touched.
"I'm never going to hear the end of this, am I?" He sighed, but a slow, proud smirk started to form on his lips. He reached out and tucked a lock of hair behind my ear, his touch suddenly very gentle. "I created a monster. A beautiful, terrifying monster who knows exactly how to make me lose my mind."
He pulled me into his arms, tucking my head under his chin. "But don't get too cocky, Wife. Round two is coming, and I won't be caught off guard next time."
"Is that a threat, King?"
"No," he whispered, kissing the top of my head as I drifted off to sleep. "That's a promise."
The playful atmosphere in the room shattered in a heartbeat. One second I was giggling at Keifer's "threat," and the next, a sudden, violent wave of nausea hit me like a freight train.
"Jay?" Keifer asked, his voice instantly losing its smug edge.
I didn't answer. I scrambled out of his arms, nearly tripping over the hem of his oversized shirt, and bolted for the ensuite bathroom. I barely made it to the toilet before everything I'd eaten at the chaotic Section E "housewarming" brunch decided to make a reappearance.
I felt a warm, steady hand immediately pull my hair back away from my face.
"Shh, it's okay. Just let it out," Keifer murmured. Gone was the teasing boy from five minutes ago; his voice was now calm, firm, and incredibly grounded.
I slumped against the cold tile floor once the first wave passed, feeling dizzy and completely embarrassed. Of all the ways to end my first night—this was not in the plan.
"I'm sorry," I whispered, my eyes watering. "That was... definitely not romantic."
"Shut up about being romantic, Jay-Jay," he scolded gently. He disappeared for a second and returned with a cold, damp washcloth, carefully wiping my forehead and the back of my neck. He picked me up as if I weighed nothing and carried me back to the bed, but he didn't put me under the covers yet.
He sat me on the edge and handed me a glass of water. "Rinse. Don't swallow yet."
I did as I was told, feeling like a pampered kid. Keifer was moving around the room with focused energy—grabbing a fresh shirt for me, dimming the lights, and even calling someone on his phone.
"Who are you calling?" I croaked.
"The family doctor," he said bluntly. "And then I'm calling Ci-N to find out exactly what was in those 'ingredients' they brought for breakfast. If they gave you food poisoning, I'm burning their clubhouse down."
"Keifer, no... I think it was just the stress and all the spicy chips Felix brought," I said, reaching for his hand. "Don't burn anything."
He sighed, sitting down next to me and pulling me into his lap, wrapping the duvet around both of us like a cocoon. He rested his chin on my head, his hand rubbing soothing circles into my stomach.
"You scared me, Wife," he admitted, his voice barely a whisper. "For a second, I thought... well, never mind. Just rest. I'm staying right here."
I snuggled into his chest, the scent of his cologne finally settling my stomach. "You're actually a really good nurse, you know."
"Don't tell the boys," he grumbled, though he kissed my temple. "It would ruin my reputation."
Keifer didn't take any chances. He disappeared for a moment and came back with a small tablet and a glass of water. "Take this, Jay. It's for the nausea," he said, his voice soft but commanding.
I swallowed the medicine, feeling like a fragile doll in his hands. He tucked me under the heavy duvet, then climbed in beside me, pulling me back into his chest. His heartbeat was steady against my ear, a rhythmic drumming that eventually lulled me into a deep, dreamless sleep.
When I woke up the next morning, the sun was high, but the room was still dim because Keifer had drawn the blackout curtains. I tried to sit up, but a heavy arm immediately tightened around my waist.
"Stay down," Keifer mumbled, his eyes still closed. "The doctor said you need bed rest today."
"I feel much better, Keifer. Really," I protested, though my head did feel a little light.
"I don't care," he said, finally opening his eyes. He reached out and touched my forehead with the back of his hand, checking my temperature. "You're still a bit pale. Remember you are my Queen, and I am the servant. Stay here."
He spent the entire day being the most overprotective "nurse" in history. He refused to let me even walk to the kitchen. Every time I tried to get up, he'd appear out of nowhere with a tray of light crackers, hot ginger tea, or a fresh glass of water.
The most hilarious part? He actually brought his laptop into the room and worked from the edge of the bed just so he wouldn't have to leave my side.
"You know, Keifer, if the Section E boys saw you right now—balancing a laptop on your knees while blowing on my soup—they'd never let you live it down," I teased, leaning back against the pillows.
He paused, a spoonful of broth halfway to my mouth, and gave me a dry look. "If any of them find out about this, I'll tell them it was a hallucination caused by your food poisoning."
"Sure, King. Whatever helps you sleep at night," I laughed, feeling a warm glow in my chest that had nothing to do with the tea.
By late afternoon, we were tangled together on the bed, watching a movie. He wasn't even looking at the screen; he was just watching me, his fingers absentmindedly playing with the London ring on my hand. It wasn't the wild, chaotic move-in we expected, but as he leaned down to kiss my cheek, I realized this was exactly what "home" felt like.
The room was bathed in the soft, golden glow of the bedside lamp as the credits of the movie rolled silently on the screen. I felt completely rejuvenated, the lingering nausea replaced by a warm, heavy sense of belonging. Keifer was leaning against the headboard, his fingers still tracing idle patterns on my arm.
"I think the Queen is officially recovered," I whispered, looking up at him.
He didn't smirk this time. He just looked down at me, his eyes dark and intense. "Good. Because watching you be that quiet for twelve hours was actually terrifying."
He shifted, pulling me closer until I was tucked firmly against his chest, my head resting right over his heart. The steady thump-thump was the most comforting sound in the world.
"Jay," he said, his voice dropping to that serious tone he rarely used. "I know moving in here was a big jump. And I know the boys are a mess and your brother is probably still staring at his phone waiting for a reason to kill me."
I giggled softly, but he stayed serious, lifting my hand to his lips and kissing the London ring.
"But thank you," he murmured against my skin. "For choosing this. For choosing me. I've lived in this house my whole life, but it's never felt like a home until your messy suitcases were in that wardrobe."
My heart swelled, and I reached up to cup his face, my thumb brushing over the sharp line of his jaw. "You're stuck with me now, Keifer Watson. Red bras, morning breath, food poisoning and all."
He finally let out a soft chuckle, leaning down to press his forehead against mine. "I wouldn't have it any other way, Wife."
He reached over and clicked off the lamp, plunging the room into cozy darkness. As we settled into the pillows, Keifer pulled the duvet up over us, his arms locking around me like a shield. In the quiet of our first real night as a couple, I realized that the "Mutya" had finally found her permanent kingdom.
"Goodnight, Keifer," I whispered into the dark.
"Goodnight, Jay-Jay. Dream of me."
And for the first time in a long time, I knew exactly where I'd be when I woke up.