Jay's POV – Almost Sunrise
The sky outside the curtains was still dark blue—
the kind that comes right before the sun breaks the horizon.
Soft. Faintly glowing.
A quiet moment before the world wakes up.
I blinked myself awake slowly, my body warming from the faint light spilling into the room.
And then I felt it—that steady presence beside me.
Keifer.
I turned my head, careful not to shift the mattress, and the sight hit me harder than I expected.
He looked different.
Not the haunted boy from last night.
Not the cold, unreadable Keifer Watson from school.
Not the heir carrying entire legacies on his shoulders.
Just… him.
Soft breathing.Relaxed body.No tension in his jaw.No shadows in his expression.
Just a calmness I hadn't seen in him for so long it almost hurt to look at.
The early light brushed against his skin, giving him the faintest warm glow.
He looked peaceful.
Almost innocent.
A strand of hair fell across his closed eyes.
Before I could think about it, my hand moved on its own.
Gently—barely touching him—I brushed the strand away, tucking it behind his ear.
His skin was warm under my fingertips.
A small sigh escaped him, so small I almost missed it.
His shoulders eased a little more.
I don't know what came over me—
maybe the quiet,
maybe the softness of the moment,
maybe the weight of everything he shared last night still sitting heavy inside my chest—
but I shifted… just a little.
Moving closer.
Not enough to wake him.
Just enough to feel the warmth coming off his body.
Enough to feel like I wasn't watching him from a distance anymore.
I hesitated—
one breath,
two—
then slowly, I let my forehead rest near his shoulder, my arm gently curling around him.
A small hug.
Barely a touch.
Just something to ground me… to ground him.
But the moment my arm touched him—
He moved.
Not suddenly.
Not sharply.
But instinctively.
His hand slipped around my waist.
His fingers curled into the fabric of my shirt.
His other arm wrapped around my shoulders, pulling me closer in one slow, unconscious motion.
Closer.
Closer.
Until my chest was pressed against his, my face tucked just under his chin.
He didn't wake.
But he held on.
Tightly.
Like his body recognized mine before his mind did.
Like he'd been reaching for something in his sleep and finally found it.
My breath caught in my throat.
His grip was firm, protective—
the kind of hold that wasn't asking,
wasn't hesitant,
just… needing.
My heart thudded softly against his.
Outside, the first pink streaks of sunrise began to paint the sky.
Inside, Keifer breathed out—a deep, relieved exhale—as if even in dreams he knew he wasn't alone anymore.
I didn't move.
I didn't dare.
I just stayed there, wrapped in his arms, feeling the slow, steady rise and fall of his chest, feeling the warmth of him, the quiet of the morning, the lingering heaviness of everything we weren't saying.
And for the briefest, fragile moment—
It felt like nothing could touch us.
Not the past.
Not the hurt.
Not the impossible mess we were tangled in.
Just him.
Just me.
Just sunrise.
And a hug that felt like something neither of us knew how to admit we wanted.
Keifer's POV – Almost Sunrise
I woke up before the sun—
that soft, bluish hour where the world is quiet enough to hear your own heartbeat.
But this time…
I didn't hear mine first.
I felt hers.
Jay.
Her warmth pressed against me.
Her breath brushing my collarbone.
Her arm gently around my torso like she'd been scared to touch me but did anyway.
For a moment, I thought I was dreaming.
I didn't move.
Didn't breathe.
I just lay there, letting the reality settle in.
She stayed.
She stayed.
The tension in my chest loosened in a way I hadn't felt in years.
I didn't remember pulling her close—
my body must've done it on its own.
Instinct.
Need.
Her head rested beneath my chin, and I tightened my arms around her, just a little, just enough to convince myself she wouldn't disappear when the light came.
God… she was warm.
And I was starving for warmth.
For softness.
For her.
I felt her shift slightly, tucking her hand closer.
A breath escaped me—slow, shaky, but calm.
I kept my eyes closed.
I didn't want to break the moment.
Didn't want the past, the fear, the guilt, or anything else to steal this one peaceful second.
She felt safe in my arms.
And for the first time in so long…
I felt safe, too.
As the first pink streaks touched the curtains, I whispered—so softly it barely left my mind:
"I love you Jay until scientists find the end of the universe..."
Then I pressed my face gently into her hair, breathed her in, memorized the feeling…
And held on.
Because I didn't know if I'd ever get a moment like this again.
---
Jay's POV – Morning
I woke up to the faint smell of something sweet…
Warm…
Comforting.
And the bed beside me?
Empty.
My chest tightened—
a quick panic, sharp and familiar—
but then I heard faint sounds downstairs.
Pans.
A soft mutter.
A clatter like someone dropping a spatula.
I exhaled, pushed myself up, and walked downstairs barefoot.
The sight that greeted me stopped me at the last step.
Keifer. In the kitchen. Barefoot. Sleeves rolled up. Hair messy. Making pancakes.
Actually flipping pancakes.
He glanced over his shoulder when he heard me.
A slow smirk spread across his face.
"Morning, sunshine."
I blinked. "You cook?"
He shrugged, sliding a perfectly golden pancake onto a plate.
"I can do anything if it means you'll eat."
That made my stomach do a little flip—
which annoyed me.
But also… I didn't have the energy to deny it.
He turned fully, leaning against the counter, arms crossed—
the stupid white shirt hanging loose, a little wrinkled from sleep.
His eyes traced my face, soft and unreadable.
"You were sleeping like a kitten," he murmured. "Didn't want to wake you."
I rolled my eyes. "I don't sleep like a kitten."
He smirked wider. "You do. You even nuzzled my shirt at one point."
I nearly choked.
"Shut up."
"Never."
He placed the plate of pancakes in front of me and slid into the seat across from me.
"Eat," he ordered playfully.
"You must be starving."
And… I was.
He watched me with a soft smile as I took the first bite.
I cleared my throat.
"You're being… weirdly nice."
"Trauma does that to a man," he said dryly, then leaned closer.
"Or maybe I'm just trying really hard not to mess up again."
The air stilled.
His teasing faded.
His eyes shifted—
deeper, sincere, full of something heavy but hopeful.
He rested his elbows on the table, fingers interlaced, expression steady.
"Jay."
My heart skipped.
He said my name like a confession.
"What's your answer?" he asked quietly.
His gaze didn't waver.
"Do you… forgive me?"
The question hung in the air—
raw, vulnerable, painful.
Everything went quiet.
The ocean outside.
The wind.
My heartbeat.
His fingers tightened together, knuckles whitening—waiting for my verdict.
Waiting for me....