POV: Jayjay
Morning came softly.
I woke up feeling unusually tired, like my body didn't want to move yet. For a moment, I stayed still, just breathing, letting the calm sink in.
Hex was still in my arms.
I looked down at his face. His lashes rested gently against his cheeks, lips slightly parted, hair messy from sleep.
He looks so peaceful…
I smiled faintly.
Then something felt off.
I watched him more closely.
Too still.
Too perfect.
Wait…
His breathing hitched slightly.
My eyes narrowed.
"Hex," I whispered.
Nothing.
I shifted just a bit—and that's when I saw it.
He was pretending.
I turned my head slowly to the other side, hiding my smile.
Really? After everything, you're fake-sleeping now?
Before I could call him out, a voice echoed softly from somewhere in the house.
"Breakfast later, okay?"
I blinked and checked the time.
8:00 a.m.
Everyone was still asleep.
I carefully slid my arm away from Hex, making sure not to wake him. He barely moved—still committed to his act.
I stood up quietly and stepped over the scattered blankets and sleeping bodies.
The living room looked like a disaster.
Mattresses everywhere.
Pillows on the floor.
Blankets tangled.
Instead of waking anyone, I decided to clean.
Let them sleep. They need it.
I went upstairs to change, choosing something simple and comfortable. When I came back down, the house was silent except for the low hum of the TV—someone must have left it on.
I turned it off.
Then I started working.
I folded blankets.
Stacked pillows.
Moved mattresses back to the side.
Some of them stirred and half-woke, helping without even fully opening their eyes. Someone carried cups to the sink. Someone else gathered plates.
Little by little, the mess disappeared.
In the kitchen, I washed cutlery, wiped the counter, and started preparing breakfast—nothing special, just something warm and normal.
Eggs.
Bread.
Tea.
As I worked, my thoughts drifted back to Hex.
You're pretending to be okay again, aren't you?
I sighed quietly.
But for now, I let the morning stay peaceful.
Just for a little while longer.
The smell of food was what finally broke the quiet.
Not noise.
Not chaos.
Food.
I was flipping the last slice of bread when I heard it—a soft shuffle behind me.
"Good morning," a sleepy voice said.
I didn't turn.
"Morning," I replied calmly.
Silence.
Then small footsteps.
Arms wrapped around my waist.
My hands froze.
"Jay…" Hex mumbled, his forehead pressing against my back. "You left."
I exhaled slowly.
"I didn't," I said. "You were fake sleeping."
He stiffened.
"…I don't know what you're talking about."
I turned around and raised an eyebrow.
He avoided my eyes immediately.
"Charles Navarro."
That made him look up.
"Yes?" he answered innocently.
"You think I don't know you by now?"
He scratched the back of his neck. "I was… resting my eyes."
"That's not resting," I said. "That's acting."
He smiled weakly.
Before I could say more, footsteps echoed into the kitchen.
Keifer walked in, hair messy, shirt wrinkled, yawning.
Behind him, the rest slowly followed—ci-n, Yuri, David—half awake, half alive.
Keifer leaned against the counter and looked at Hex.
"So," he said casually, "you survived sleeping between two people without kicking either of us. Proud of you."
Hex crossed his arms. "I was protecting Jay."
I snorted. "From what?"
"From you," he replied seriously.
The boys laughed.
Keifer looked at me sideways. "He has a point."
I shook my head and placed plates on the table. "Sit. Eat. Before I change my mind and make you all clean again."
Everyone rushed to sit.
Hex hesitated.
"Jay?" he said quietly.
"Yes?"
"…You're not mad anymore, right?"
I looked at him.
Really looked.
Bandage still on his forehead.
Dark circles under his eyes.
Trying so hard to act normal.
I reached out and ruffled his hair.
"I'm not mad," I said softly. "I'm just watching you."
He nodded and finally sat down.
As breakfast began, noise slowly returned—laughter, teasing, plates clinking.
But inside, I knew something.
This calm?
It wouldn't last.
And Hex knew it too.