The room was quiet enough that every tiny sound seemed loud.
Jay's breathing. Keifer's heartbeat. The soft rustle of sheets as they shifted closer. The kind of silence that only happens when two people are so close they don't need to speak.
Then—
A gentle knock at the door.
Jay froze instantly, her body tightening as if she'd been startled awake from a dream. Keifer's hand stilled on her waist. They both held their breath.
Another knock, a little firmer.
"Good morning, sir. Ma'am," a voice called through the door, polite and bright. "Housekeeping. Would you like fresh towels?"
Keifer's eyes widened, and he stared at Jay like the world had just become painfully real again.
Jay's cheeks heated. She pulled the blanket up just enough to cover herself, her fingers trembling slightly as she tried to make herself smaller.
Keifer sat up, his body moving like a reflex. He kept his voice calm, but the tension in his shoulders gave away how fast his heart was racing.
"Just a moment," he called, voice steady.
He glanced at Jay, eyes asking silently if she was okay.
Jay nodded, swallowing. "I'm fine," she whispered.
Keifer reached for the robe hanging on the chair and wrapped it around himself quickly, the fabric sliding over his skin as if it was too late to hide anything. He didn't look away from her, though. His gaze stayed locked on hers, and in that look was a quiet apology.
He walked to the door, opened it, and the maid stepped in with a smile, holding a stack of fresh towels.
"Good morning," she said, cheerful. "Just checking if you needed anything."
Keifer nodded, still holding the door open as if he was buying time. "No, thank you. We're good."
The maid nodded, and then she glanced past him—just for a second—like she could sense something in the air. She didn't say anything, just smiled politely and left.
The door clicked shut.
Keifer exhaled, and the tension in his shoulders melted away.
He turned back to Jay, his expression softening. "Sorry," he murmured.
Jay's heart was still pounding, but she managed a small laugh. "It's fine," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "Just… life."
Keifer crossed the room in two long strides and sat back down beside her, pulling her into his arms again. The blanket slipped down slightly, but he didn't seem to care.
Instead, he kissed the top of her head and whispered, "I'm not letting you go again."
Jay looked up at him, eyes shining. "Don't."
And for a moment, even with the interruption, the world felt like it had returned to its rightful place.
After the door clicked shut, the room felt… a little smaller. A little more real.
Keifer's hands stayed on Jay's waist, but the air between them shifted—like they'd both been reminded that the world existed outside the bed.
Jay let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding, and then she couldn't help it.
A soft laugh escaped her, and she immediately covered her mouth, embarrassed.
Keifer stared at her for a second, and then his expression changed—something like amusement, something like relief. He laughed too, low and quiet.
"You're laughing," he said, like he couldn't believe it.
Jay shook her head, still giggling. "I'm not… I just—" She stopped, because the sound of her own laughter made her feel ridiculous and happy and alive all at once.
Keifer's smile widened. "It's okay," he said, voice warm. "We're not in a movie. This is real."
Jay's laugh faded into a soft smile. "Yeah," she agreed. "And apparently we have an audience."
Keifer leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead, still smiling. "Well, I'm glad they didn't walk in," he murmured.
Jay lifted her head slightly and looked at him. "You looked like you were about to turn into a statue."
He shook his head, still smiling. "I just— I didn't want you to feel awkward."
Jay's eyes softened. "I'm not awkward," she said, teasingly.
Keifer's eyebrow lifted. "You're trying to convince me, but your face says otherwise."
Jay rolled her eyes, but the smile stayed. "I'm just… not used to this."
Keifer's hand moved up to cup her cheek, thumb brushing her lips gently. "Then we'll take it slow," he said, voice quiet and sincere. "No rush. No pressure. Just… us."
Jay's chest warmed at his words. She leaned into his hand, closing her eyes.
"Okay," she whispered.
Keifer's lips curved into a soft smile, and he pulled her closer again—this time with no fear, no hesitation, just comfort.
They stayed like that for a while, laughing quietly now and then, letting the awkwardness fade into something tender and real.
And in the middle of their laughter, Jay realized that the interruption hadn't ruined the moment.
It had made it… more human.