They didn't need to speak anymore.
There was no need for a reason.
Andi's lips were slightly parted, her chest rising and falling rapidly as Alonzo gently laid her down on the couch. Her cardigan slipped from her shoulders, revealing smooth skin that glowed under the dim rooftop lights.
Alonzo hovered above her, breathing her in, like she was something sacred. "Tell me if I go too far."
"You're not going anywhere," Andi whispered, her fingers trailing under his shirt, tugging it up.
He smiled before pulling it over his head.
Andi paused. She glanced at the body in front of her. Lean, warm, strong. But what made her bite her lower lip wasn't the abs — it was the way Alonzo looked at her. Like she wasn't just a body. Like she was his person.
He dipped back down, kissing her jaw, then her neck. His kisses trailed lower, in sync with the strap of Andi's dress as he slid it down her shoulder. It was as if every inch of skin his lips touched, he made sure Andi felt his care and warmth.
She arched her back as he brushed his lips over the swell of her chest, her breath hitching.
"This feels good... not having to hide anything," Andi murmured between moans.
Alonzo met her eyes. "No filters here. Every part of you is mine tonight. And all your exhaustion — I'll take that away too."
He pulled her dress down further, revealing matching black lace underneath. She gasped as his hands explored her thighs, firm but gentle.
No more restraint.
No more silence.
They tangled in each other, skin on skin, mouths meeting again and again — hungry now, needy. Alonzo's hand cupped her between the legs over the fabric, and she whimpered, pressing into him.
"Alonzo—" she breathed out his name like a prayer.
He kissed her again, deeper. "I got you, baby. Let go."
And she did.
Clothes dropped, breath quickened, moans echoed softly in the quiet rooftop air. Every touch was a promise. Every gasp, a surrender. Every thrust of their hips, a declaration of want — not just physically, but emotionally.
She cried again — not out of sadness this time, but from the feeling of finally being seen, being held, being his.
And when it was over, Alonzo didn't speak right away. He just held her close, her head resting on his chest, the city lights flickering below them.
She was bare.
But not broken.
And for the first time in a long time… she wasn't alone.
---
The next morning, the wind shifted.
Not dramatic. Not sudden. But different.
When Andi entered the classroom, she still carried her composed image — sleek hair, flawless powder, layered jewelry, and her trademark beige trench coat even though the classroom wasn't cold.
But this time, she wasn't alone.
Beside her was Alonzo.
And even though they weren't in the same course — Alonzo in Business Administration and Andi in Political Science — he made it a point to walk her all the way to her classroom door.
"Text me right away when it's time to go home," Alonzo whispered before kissing her temple — a soft gesture, but enough to make the whole front row stare.
This wasn't the Andi Navarro they knew.
But no one dared to tease.
Because Alonzo was right there. Leaning against the wall. Watching her classmates who were far too curious. And with one sharp look, the air shifted.
Don't even try. She's off-limits.
All day, even when Andi had no one sitting beside her, she felt she wasn't alone. Whenever stress piled up — from org meetings, academic load, or whispers about her family — her phone would light up with a message:
Alonzo:
You don't have to fight everything alone, babe. Just say the word if you want me to come by
And every night, Alonzo would call to check if she had eaten, if she was okay, or if she just wanted to hear his voice even when the stories made no sense.
And when the heaviness in her chest became too much, she didn't need to explain anymore.
Just one message:
Andi:
I'm tired 😔
And soon enough, the reply came:
Alonzo:
Wait for me. I'm on my way
And he would show up. With warm milk tea, an embrace, and a silence that didn't need to be forced.
Once, in the library, a professor caught Andi staring blankly. Her eyes distant, pen in hand but no answers on the paper.
"Are you okay, Ms. Navarro?"
Before she could respond, a voice came from the next table.
"She's fine, sir. Just lacking sleep. We had org work last night."
Alonzo. Just suddenly there. Calm. Collected. Not defensive. But enough to let the issue slide.
In the days that followed, Andi slowly felt the difference.
Before, every moment of weakness had to be gathered, hidden, pushed away. But now?
There was someone who didn't run when he saw the truth.
Someone who wasn't scared of the chaos in their lives.
And in a world where everyone wanted to take what she had — her money, her name, her control — he was the only one who just wanted to stay.
---
The whole mansion was silent—not the peaceful kind of silence, but the kind that felt like it was always waiting for an explosion. And in the middle of that silence, Alonzo was the only sound of life.
He was holding two take-out paper bags while leaning against the kitchen island. He had been sitting there for minutes, but Andi still hadn't come down. For a while now, he could hear her footsteps upstairs—circling, pacing back and forth, like she was talking to herself.
When Andi finally came down, she was carrying a thick folder. Her face was pale, but her carefully styled hair, her light pink lipstick, and the way she held her fan as though it were an extension of her dignity, were all still intact.
"You skipped a meal again, didn't you?" Alonzo asked right away as he set the food on the table.
Andi just shook her head. "Later. I still have a lot to take care of."
"School or house?"
"Both."
Alonzo didn't ask further. He was used to it. For weeks now, he had seen Andi like this—always looking like she was fighting the world while smiling. But tonight, her aura was heavier.
Before he could say anything, the back door opened. Gesly came in, footsteps heavy, still wearing his leather jacket even inside the house. His hands were scratched, and there was a strange glint in his eyes.
"Don't look at me like that, Ate," he said coldly as he passed by.
Andi didn't answer. She just followed him with her gaze until he disappeared up the stairs.
Meanwhile, Bella was sitting in the living room, quietly drawing. But the tension in her shoulders was clear. She still looked like a child scared whenever something happened that she didn't understand.
"Is it always like this at night?" Alonzo asked in almost a whisper.
"Always," Andi replied in a low voice. "He's always up to something I don't know. He comes home with blood on his knuckles, with new wounds. I don't know where they come from. But I know where he comes from…" She took a deep breath, and for the first time, her eyes fell to the table. "And I can't do anything about it."
Slowly, Alonzo reached out and held her hand.
"You don't have to fix everything," he said gently. "It's not your job to put out every fire. Sometimes it's enough that you're just there."
Andi gasped, as though wanting to speak, but her words were swallowed by tears. She didn't cry loudly—she wasn't that kind of person. But as she bowed her head, a single tear slid onto the folder she'd been holding all along.
And then, without words, Alonzo stood and pulled her close. No warning. No questions. He just hugged her tightly—the kind of embrace that said even if you fall apart, I'll be here to catch you.
Andi took a deep breath, but this time she couldn't hold it in. There, against Alonzo's chest, everything fell—the weight of being a mother, father, sister, protector, provider. Everything she couldn't say poured out as tears.
"I can't stop him," she whispered. "But I can't lose him either."
"You don't have to choose," Alonzo answered, stroking her hair. "Your job is to love him, even if you don't understand him. My job…" He glanced toward the stairs where Gesly had vanished. "…is to make sure that no matter what storm comes, you won't have to face it alone."
They stayed that way for a long time—two people quietly breathing in the middle of the household's chaos. Outside, the rumble of motorcycles echoed down the street. Upstairs, Gesly's footsteps. In the living room, Bella's pencil.