The waves roared louder now, echoing like drums from deep within the sea.
The moon shimmered across the water, casting silver light on the two shadows sitting at the shore.
Rabin had lowered himself into the sand first, wordless.
Then he reached out—gently—took Y/N's wrist, and pulled her down beside him.
She didn't resist.
But she also didn't look at him.
The two sat side by side, the ocean before them, the silence between them breathing its own tension.
Rabin:
"What are you thinking?"
Y/N (quietly):
"Nothing."
Rabin (smirking a little):
"Thinking about me?"
She exhaled sharply.
Y/N:
"Enough of the teasing, Rabin… I'm tired."
Her voice didn't break—but it carried weight.
Rabin reached for her hand.
This time, she didn't pull away.
Their fingers rested together, locked without force.
Rabin (softly):
"Y/N… I'm not teasing you."
"Look at me."
Slowly, she turned. Their eyes met—raw, searching.
He held the gaze like he'd been waiting all day just to say this.
Rabin:
"I think I'm falling for you."
"Day by day. More and more. You know that, right?"
She blinked once.
Then turned back to the ocean.
The wind caught strands of her hair, and she didn't bother fixing them.
Y/N:
"I… I don't know."
"I can't even distinguish between the real you and the actor you."
"It's hard."
A pause. The waves responded instead.
Then he said, quietly, deeply—
Rabin:
"I'm the real me when I'm with you."
"Only with you."
The ocean continued its endless rhythm beside them—waves crashing softly like background music to a confession neither of them saw coming tonight.
Rabin turned his head, eyes locked onto her profile.
His voice wasn't dramatic.
It wasn't scripted.
It was bare—like a whispered vow under moonlight.
Rabin:
"Be mine… always."
"Let me protect you."
Y/N finally turned to him, slowly, as if the words needed a moment to land in her chest before she could respond.
Her eyes met his—wide, glassy, uncertain.
Y/N:
"Being your assistant is already hard…"
She paused, taking a shaky breath.
Y/N:
"But being your girlfriend?"
She blinked, then gave a half-laugh that didn't quite reach her eyes.
Y/N:
"I can't even imagine."
The truth sat heavy between them.
She wasn't rejecting him.
But she wasn't ready to accept it either.
Because with Rabin Angeles—the nation's boyfriend, the actor, the chaos, the charm—nothing ever came easy.
And yet… he still reached out, brushing a thumb across the back of her hand.
Rabin:
"Then let me make it easier to imagine."
The night had settled into that quiet lull where even the sea seemed to hush in respect for what was happening.
Rabin didn't lean in for a kiss.
Instead, he gently lifted her hand…
And pressed a soft kiss to the back of it.
No pressure.
Just sincerity.
His lips lingered there for half a second longer—like a promise without words.
Then, he poked her cheek lightly with his finger.
Y/N (blinking, caught off guard):
"Huh?"
Rabin (with a boyish smirk):
"I'm taking permission."
Y/N (raising an eyebrow):
"What? Permission?"
He nodded, his expression playful but eyes deadly serious.
Rabin:
"Yeah. Permission to keep falling for you."
"To kiss you only when you're ready."
"To hold your hand again tomorrow night, and the night after that."
Y/N didn't answer immediately.
She looked at him—really looked this time.
And something in her chest quietly crumbled.
Not all the walls, not yet.
But enough for her to smile.
Author POV
Next Morning – 7:15 AM
Negros Occidental, Filming Set
The sun had barely risen over the horizon, casting a golden wash across the coastline. The crew bustled about—testing equipment, prepping angles, adjusting lenses to capture the early light.
Y/N stood quietly near the van, holding Rabin's sipper bottle in one hand, flipping through the updated shoot notes with the other.
He emerged from the dressing tent, hair tousled but makeup ready, eyes scanning the set until they found her.
Rabin:
"My sipper?"
Y/N (without looking up):
"Oh… it's here."
She handed it to him, her fingertips brushing his slightly.
He took it—but instead of walking off immediately, he paused. Looked around casually. Then leaned in closer.
Lowering his voice to a whisper meant just for her.
Rabin:
"Wait for me…"
He paused, eyes locking with hers.
"Don't disappear from my eyes, okay?"
Y/N's breath hitched—not visibly, but inside, something skipped.
She didn't nod.
Didn't speak.
Just met his gaze for a second longer than usual.
That was enough for him.
Rabin gave her a small smirk before walking off toward the director's cue, casually sipping from the bottle she'd just handed him—as if nothing had happened.
Evening – Manami Resort Events Hall
Bin Perfume Launch Fancon
The sun had set, but the stage burned with light.
Spotlights danced across the sea-facing stage of the private resort, where banners of "Bin Perfume – Scent Beyond Gender" fluttered beside massive LED screens playing Rabin's campaign video on loop.
The crowd had gathered—mostly fans, media, brand reps, and guests.
The music pulsed. The scent of subtle florals, cedarwood, and something unplaceably soft filled the air.
It was unmistakably Bin.
Then the lights dimmed for a second.
A voice echoed through the hall.
"Please welcome… the Nation's Boyfriend… Rabin Angeles!"
Cheers erupted as Rabin walked onto the stage—dressed in a tailored black-on-black suit, his aura calm but electrifying.
He held the mic confidently, eyes scanning the crowd—until they found Y/N, standing quietly at the side stage near the event manager, clipboard in hand.
He smiled. Just a little.
Rabin (on mic):
"Hello everyone… thank you for coming to this Fancon tonight."
"I welcome each of you with all my heart."
He gave a respectful nod.
"Maraming salamat po."
The crowd screamed. Cameras flashed.
Rabin:
"Especially today—"
"I'm proud to finally launch something personal."
"'Bin Perfume –Scent Beyond Gender,' by me, Rabin Angeles—"
"—has officially launched tonight!"
He held up the bottle, letting the screen zoom in on the minimalistic, matte-glass design.
Rabin:
"This perfume is for everyone. It's not just a scent—it's a feeling, a memory, a mood… that doesn't need to be labeled."
"And I made it… only for you."
The audience cheered louder.
From the side, Y/N watched.
He didn't look nervous. He looked… proud.
than the background music came…
🎤 Rabin Angeles – "Tibok"
(Live fancon performance)
~Nagsimula sa simple na pasulyap-sulyap, nagpapapansin sa 'yo
Umabot sa palitan ng mga mensahe, kilig na kilig ako Kumusta? Kain na, hello, magandang umaga~
Rabin adjusted the mic stand, his posture confident but his eyes searching… until they found her again. Y/N stood behind the curtain, headset around her neck, eyes fixed on her iPad—but not really reading anything anymore.
Then he spoke.
Rabin:
"For the second song tonight…"
His voice lowered just a touch—only noticeable to those who listened with their hearts.
"I'd like to dedicate this… to the Miss I always miss."
And right then—he looked at her. Just for a second.
Quick. Precise. Sharp enough to strike the one person who knew he wasn't reading a script.
The crowd exploded.
"Kyaaa!! Section E reference!!!"
"It's like Mutya all over again!"
"ASHTINEEEE MOMENT!!"
They were screaming about the hit drama "Ang Mutya ng Section E", where Rabin's character once said the same line to his co-lead. The fans were sure this was an Easter egg.
But Y/N knew better.
That line… wasn't acting.
The background music swelled, and the first notes of "Miss Miss" echoed across the venue.
Rabin didn't say anything else.
He just started to sing—with eyes closed, as if trying to drown the noise and sing just for one.
~Baby, ikaw lang talaga
Ang nami-miss ko sa tuwi-tuwina
Sa tuwi-tuwina
When the verse ~
Palagi kang nami-miss
Whoa, oh
Oh, magkita na tayo, please
Palagi kang nami-miss
Whoa, oh
(You will always be missed
Whoa, oh
Oh, let's meet, please
You will always be missed
Whoa, oh)
He sang it clearly, each word delicate yet heavy—like it had weight.
But what shook Y/N more than the lyrics…
Was the fact that he didn't look away from her.
Not even once.
His eyes locked on hers from across the venue.
Just a raw, steady gaze that pierced through everything else.
And for a moment… it was as if the crowd's cheers faded into the sea breeze.
As if the world narrowed down to just them.
Him, standing under lights.
Her, in the shadows—being silently called back with every word.
Y/N's heart clenched.
She tried to look away.
She couldn't.
After the glowing lights, the deafening cheers, and the unforgettable songs, the fancon finally wrapped.
The whole crew—actors, stylists, camera team, managers—gathered around long wooden tables at the resort's dining area. The salty breeze from the ocean blended with the smell of grilled seafood and warm kare-kare. Laughter filled the air as the team toasted to a smooth and successful event.
"To Bin Perfume!"
"To our nation's boyfriend!"
"To Rabin and his killer fan service!"
Rabin sat beside Y/N.
He was quieter than usual, only giving faint smiles and the occasional nod.
She, too, barely touched her food.
Maybe it was exhaustion… or maybe something else entirely.
Manager:
"Y/N, you did great today—flawless coordination."
Y/N smiled. "Thank you."
But her eyes didn't meet Rabin's.
Not once.
Even when he silently passed her the mango juice from the cooler, or shifted his chair ever so slightly closer—she kept her focus elsewhere.
The party began to die down past 11 PM. One by one, the crew trickled off to their rooms, drowsy from wine and wind.
Back at the suite…
Y/N entered her room, slipped off her shoes, and placed the iPad gently on the table. She headed for a warm shower, the steam helping her loosen the weight of the day. After changing into her night suit, she tied her hair up loosely.
Knock knock.
She blinked.
It was late.
Walking over to the door, she opened it—only to see him.
Y/N:
"Need something?"
Rabin:
"Tired… but can't sleep."
He held up a bottle of wine.
"Thought I'd share."
Y/N:
"We're leaving tomorrow. Don't get drunk."
Rabin (grinning):
"I'm not getting drunk. Just a little talk. Can I come in?"
She said nothing, simply left the door open and walked back inside.
Rabin took that as a yes. He stepped in, closing the door gently behind him. The room smelled faintly of lavender and mint—her usual calming blend.
He placed the bottle and two wine glasses on the table near the balcony.
Rabin:
"To the miss I always miss," he said with that playful glint in his eyes, raising the glass slightly.
Y/N stared at him for a second, arms crossed.
Y/N:
"You said that in front of everyone."
Rabin:
"And I meant it. In front of everyone."
She slowly took the glass and took a small sip before setting it back down.
Y/N:
"Don't play with me, Rabin. I don't know which version of you is real."
He leaned back slightly, swirling the wine in his glass.
Rabin:
"Sometimes I don't either… until I'm around you."
She looked at him then—really looked at him. No actor. No icon. No nation's boyfriend.
Just Rabin.
Rabin:
"When I act, I know exactly where the lines are. I follow the script. Hit the mark. Keep the distance."
He met her eyes.
"But with you… I want to cross every line."
She swallowed hard.
Y/N:
"We leave tomorrow. Don't complicate things."
He didn't argue.
He didn't force.
He simply touched the rim of his glass to hers.
Rabin:
"Then let's just drink."
And they did.
No more questions.
No more pretending.
Just the quiet rhythm of the waves outside…
Two slow, confused heartbeats…
And a long night that neither one truly wanted to end.
Y/N's POV
Skip to the next morning…
Ugh… I rub my eyes slowly, still stuck in that weird space between sleep and wake.
The light slipping through the curtains tells me it's definitely morning already.
But—wait.
Why… why do I feel heavy?
There's something on top of my stomach.
My brows furrow.
I shift slightly.
Then, like a jump scare in slow motion…
I turn my head to the side—
A calm, sleeping face.
No freaking way.
Rabin. Rabin Angeles. Sleeping. Right. Beside. Me.
And then I freeze.
Wait…
Then what the hell is on my stomach?!
I slowly, carefully, peek under the blanket…
His hand.
His hand.
HIS. HAND!!!
Resting firmly across my waist and stomach like I'm his personal emotional support pillow!
I internally scream.
My heart is doing cartwheels.
I look back at his face—he's still asleep, annoyingly peaceful like he's in some skincare commercial.
WHAT IN THE ROMCOM IS THIS?!
Did I roll into his orbit like a moon last night? Or did he sneak over like a sleepy bandit?
Either way…
This isn't just crossing the line anymore… this is building a house over it.
Should I wake him?
Should I pretend to be asleep again?
Should I push his hand away?
No. Not yet.
I'll just… lie here. For like, five seconds more.
That's all. Five.
(Okay maybe ten.)
As I slowly lifted his hand off my waist, ready to quietly slide off the bed and escape—
He groaned, his arm suddenly tightening around me, pulling me right back down.
Rabin:
"Don't move… it's still early."
His voice was thick and hoarse from sleep.
Y/N:
"What are you doing here?"
Rabin:
"You let me sleep here."
Y/N (in disbelief):
"When did I let you sleep here?"
Rabin (eyes still closed, smirking):
"Last night… when you didn't say no."
I blink, stunned.
Y/N:
"I didn't say yes either."
Rabin:
"Well… silence is a yes in dreamland. And you didn't push me off."
He snuggled in closer, face now brushing lightly against my shoulder.
Rabin:
"You're warm… soft… smell like mango shampoo."
I was still trying to compute what the hell was happening.
Y/N:
"You're literally using me as a body pillow."
Rabin (grinning without opening his eyes):
"And you make a good one. I slept better than ever."
Y/N:
"Let me go. I need to pee."
Rabin:
"Fine…"
He finally released me, hand slowly slipping off my waist. I sat up, hair wild, brain wilder.
Rabin (teasing):
"But come back after. I miss my pillow already."
Y/N (standing):
"No."
Rabin:
"I'll lock the door."
Y/N:
"Try it and I'll mix mango juice into your fancy shampoo."
Rabin (laughing):
"You and mango threats… That's why I'm in love."
My head snapped toward him.
He immediately threw a pillow over his face.
Rabin (muffled):
"Oops. Forget I said that."
I came back from the washroom, drying my hands with the towel.
He was still there — sprawled across the bed like it was his own.
Blanket half off, hair tousled, one leg hanging off the side.
Like a sleepy prince who missed the memo that we have a flight to catch.
Y/N:
"Rabin, go back to your room. It's already time to get ready."
Rabin (groaning):
"Cancel the flight… I'm still sleepy."
Y/N (rolling my eyes):
"Don't be a spoiled kid."
He peeked one eye open, that teasing grin forming already.
Rabin:
"Then give me a morning kiss."
Y/N:
"Should I bring a fan to kiss you instead?"
Rabin (dramatically clutching his heart):
"Wow. Betrayed by my own pillow. Cold."
Y/N:
"Then act like a grown man and get ready. You're the one who needs the full glam squad before boarding a plane."
He slowly sat up, ruffling his hair.
Rabin (yawning):
"If I get up without a kiss, I'll be grumpy the whole day."
Y/N:
"Then be grumpy. You already are 80% of the time."
He smirked.
Rabin:
"That 20% is reserved only for you."
I threw a pillow at his face.