(Jay's POV)
The sunlight hit Keifer's face in a way that made him look like a literal angel, which was annoying because he's actually a menace. Since we got engaged yesterday, he's been unbearable.
"Good morning, fiancé," he whispered, his voice all gravelly and smug. He started poking my cheek. "Does my future wifey wants coffee, or should I just keep staring at how cute you look when you're grumpy?"
"I want sleep," I mumbled, trying to pull the duvet over my head. He yanked it back, tickling my sides until I was shrieking with laughter. "Okay! Fine! I'm up! Stop being a romantic sap!"
We stumbled downstairs to find the chaos twins, Keigan and Keiren, mid-argument.
"I'm telling you, Keiren, if you eat my cereal one more time, I'm putting salt in your protein shake," Keigan threatened, brandishing a spoon.
Keifer slid into his chair, looking like the king of the castle. "Be nice, boys. You're in the presence of a newly committed man."
"We know, Kuya Keifer. You've said it forty times since yesterday," Keiren groaned, rolling his eyes. "We get it. You put a ring on it. Now pass the milk."
The banter was peak domestic bliss until Keifer's phone buzzed. He groaned. "Emergency meeting at the firm. I have to go, but I'll be back in thirty minutes. Don't burn the house down." He kissed my forehead—lingering just long enough to make the twins gag—and vanished.
Keiren and Keigan immediately dove into a high-stakes video game battle in the lounge. I headed back upstairs to our room, flopping onto the bed to scroll through reels. I was halfway through a video of a golden retriever wearing sunglasses when a heavy thud-thud-thud echoed from the front door.
Downstairs, the gaming sounds stopped. I heard Keiren's footsteps, then the heavy creak of the door.
"Keifer? Where's Keifer?"
That voice. It sounded like gravel rubbing against a tombstone. I froze. I rushed to the landing and looked down. Alex, Keifer's father's old gunman—a man who basically starred in all my nightmares—was standing in our foyer. He looked frantic, disheveled.
"Alex?" I gasped, my heart suddenly hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird.
"Jay! Listen to me," Alex shouted, stepping further in. "You need to know. It's over. Kaizer is dead. The monster is—"
Everything went sideways.
Keigan was standing by the hallway table. His face had gone completely white, his eyes blown wide with a look of pure, primal terror. To him, Alex wasn't a messenger; he was a threat. Before Alex could finish his sentence, Keigan grabbed the heavy ceramic vase—the one Keifer's aunt gave us—and swung it with everything he had.
CRACK.
The vase shattered. Alex dropped like a stone.
I stared at the floor. The blood started spreading across the white tile—bright, hot, and way too much. The world started to tilt. The smell of the copper, the sight of Alex's limp body... it dragged me back to the years of looking over my shoulder. My lungs stopped working. I felt myself sliding down the wall, the edges of my vision turning black.
"Jay! Keigan!" Keiren was screaming, fumbling for his phone. "Keifer! Come back! Alex is bleeding, Keigan's catatonic, and Jay's crashing! HELP!"
The next hour was a blur of sirens and Keifer's voice.
When I finally drifted back to consciousness, I was in a hospital bed. The harsh fluorescent lights were softened by a warm hand holding mine. I turned my head. Keifer looked like he'd aged ten years. His tie was undone, his hair a mess.
"Hey," he whispered, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. "I've got you. You're safe. They both are in the rooms next door. They're okay."
"Alex..." I choked out.
"He's alive. Stitched up and very apologetic," Keifer said, leaning down to press his cool forehead against mine. "He came to tell us Kaizer is gone for good. He just... didn't realize he'd trigger a war zone."
Keifer spent the night moving between our rooms like a protective shadow. He brought Keigan chocolate milk to stop his shaking and sat with Keiren to calm his nerves. But he stayed with me the longest. He tucked the blankets around me so tight I couldn't move, whispering stupid jokes about how he was going to buy us plastic vases from now on.
"I promised you thirty minutes," he murmured into my hair. "I'm sorry I was late. Never again."
A few days later, the hospital released us. We were all a bit jumpy, but the air felt clearer. Keifer refused to let us go home and brood. Instead, he drove us straight to the cinema.
"We are watching the loudest, dumbest superhero movie they have," Keifer announced, hauling four massive buckets of popcorn.
We sat in the dark theater—me tucked under Keifer's arm, Keigan and Keiren finally laughing again as they threw popcorn at each other. For the first time in our lives, we weren't waiting for the other shoe to drop. The monster was dead, the gunman was forgiven, and I had a fiancé who wouldn't let go of my hand for the entire two-hour runtime.
The theater was dark, the screen flickering with explosions and bright colors from a movie none of us were actually following. Keigan and Keiren were three rows down, finally acting like themselves again—mostly by arguing over who got the blue Icee.
I felt Keifer shift beside me. He hadn't looked at the screen once; he was just watching me. I still felt a little fragile, like my edges were made of glass, but his presence was a steady weight that kept me from floating away into my own head.
"You're doing that thing again," he whispered, his breath warm against my ear.
"What thing?" I asked, finally turning to look at him.
"The 'overthinking the universe' face. Stop it." He reached over, taking my hand and interlacing our fingers. His thumb traced the band of my engagement ring, the metal cool against my skin. "The bad guys are gone, Jay. For real this time. No more looking over your shoulder."
I leaned my head onto his shoulder, breathing in the scent of his cologne—a mix of expensive sandalwood and the faint smell of hospital soap that was finally fading. "It just feels... quiet. I'm not used to the quiet in my head."
"Get used to it," he murmured, kissing the top of my head. "Because from now on, the only drama allowed in this family is Keiren losing at Mario Kart or us arguing about whose turn it is to do the dishes."
I let out a small, genuine laugh. "I think I can handle that."
Keifer reached into the popcorn bucket, found a particularly buttery piece, and held it up to my lips. "Eat. You need the energy for all the romantic sappy stuff I have planned to make up for the 'gunman in the hallway' incident."
I bit the popcorn, smiling despite myself. "Oh? Is there a schedule?"
"Strictly confidential," he teased, pulling me closer until there was no space between us. "But it involves a lot of me never letting you out of my sight again."
In the dim light of the cinema, surrounded by the smell of butter and the muffled sounds of the twins' bickering, I finally let the last of the tension go. I squeezed Keifer's hand, closed my eyes for a second, and just enjoyed the feeling of being loved and, for the first time in my life, completely safe.
When we finally pulled into the driveway, I expected the house to feel heavy with the memory of what happened. Instead, Keifer jumped out of the car first, acting suspiciously energetic for a man who had been on hospital duty for forty-eight hours.
"Stay there! No one enters until I say so!" he commanded, pointing a finger at me, Keigan, and Keiren.
"Is he finally losing it?" Keiren whispered, leaning against the car. "The stress has broken him."
"Probably," Keigan muttered, though he looked a lot better than he had a few days ago.
A few minutes later, the front door swung open. "Alright, the 'Safety Committee' welcomes you home!" Keifer shouted.
We walked inside and stopped. The hallway where the "incident" occurred had been completely transformed. The broken shards were gone, and the blood-stained rug had been replaced with a plush, ridiculously soft white one. But the biggest change was the hallway table.
In place of the old ceramic vase, there stood a giant, indestructible-looking plastic trophy. Taped to the front was a piece of paper that read: "OFFICIAL HOME SAFETY AWARD – HELD BY KEIGAN 'THE VASE' [ Watson ]."
Next to it was a massive spread of takeout—pizzas, burgers, and enough wings to feed an army.
"I realized," Keifer said, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me into his side, "that our house needed a vibe shift. No more fragile antiques. Only trophies and carbs from now on."
Keigan actually cracked a smile, walking over to inspect his 'award.' "You're an idiot, Kuya Keifer ."
"Yeah, but I'm your idiot fiancé," Keifer retorted, looking at me with that soft, melty expression that always made my heart skip. "And Jay? Check the bedroom."
I hurried upstairs, Keifer trailing behind me. On our bed sat a huge, weighted blanket and a brand-new pair of noise-canceling headphones.
"For the reels," he whispered, standing in the doorway. "And for the days when the world gets too loud. I want this to be the place where you never feel like you have to run."
I turned around and crashed into him, hugging him so tight he let out a little oomph. The trauma was still there—it doesn't just vanish—but with Keifer turning our nightmares into jokes and our fears into comfort, I knew we were going to be okay.
"I love you," I mumbled into his chest.
"I know," he said, his voice full of smug, beautiful warmth. "Now let's go eat before the chaos inhale all the pepperoni."
We headed back downstairs to find the "pizza feast" had already turned into a tactical battleground. Keiren had established a "no-fly zone" around the garlic knots, while Keigan was methodically peeling the pepperoni off Keifer's designated slices just to be annoying.
"Hey! That's my fiancé's fuel you're tampering with!" Keifer shouted, sliding into the booth next to me and immediately swiping a wing from Keiren's plate.
"Tax!" Keifer declared, dodging Keiren's attempt to jab him with a plastic fork.
"Engagement tax. I don't make the rules."
"You literally just made that up!" Keiren complained, but he couldn't hide his grin.
Keigan, meanwhile, was staring intensely at the giant plastic trophy on the hallway table. "You know, Keifer, if someone else breaks in, this trophy is actually weighted. It's got better aerodynamic properties than the vase."
I choked on my soda. "Keigan, please. Let's try talking to the guests for at least five seconds before we check their aerodynamics."
"I'm just saying," Keigan shrugged, eyes twinkling, "I've leveled up. I'm a 'Vase Master' now. I need to maintain the reputation."
Keifer laughed, leaning over to steal a fry from my plate. I swatted his hand away, but he just used the opportunity to grab my hand and kiss my palm.
"In all seriousness," Keifer said, his voice dropping an octave as he looked at the three of us. "If anyone—and I mean anyone—even knocks too loudly on that door, I've installed a smart-cam. We check the phone first, then we decide if Keigan gets to use the trophy."
"Deal," we all said in unison.
The rest of the night was a blur of grease, loud laughter, and the twins trying to convince us that as a "wedding gift," we should let them turn the spare room into a dedicated gaming lounge. It was messy, it was loud, and it was exactly the kind of chaos we needed to wash away the memory of the hospital.
As I sat there, sandwiched between my ridiculous fiancé and my even more ridiculous brothers, I realized the house didn't feel like a crime scene anymore. It just felt like home.
By the time the last pizza box was closed and the twins had finally retreated to their rooms—still arguing over who won the "Vase Master" title—the house was finally, truly quiet.
Keifer led me upstairs, his hand heavy and warm on the small of my back. The adrenaline that had carried us through the hospital discharge and the movie was finally fading, replaced by a deep, bone-weary exhaustion.
"Shower?" Keifer asked softly, already pulling a fresh oversized hoodie out of the drawer for me.
"Just sleep," I murmured, leaning my head against his chest. "I just want to close my eyes and know you're there."
He didn't argue. He pulled back the covers of our bed—the one place that still smelled like us and not antiseptic—and tucked me in. He climbed in behind me, wrapping himself around my back like a protective shield. His heartbeat was a steady, rhythmic thrum against my spine, the best lullaby I could ever ask for.
"You okay, Jay?" he whispered into the crook of my neck, his voice thick with sleepiness.
"Yeah," I breathed, feeling the tension finally leave my shoulders. "Actually, for the first time in a long time... I'm great."
Keifer tightened his grip slightly, his chin resting on my shoulder. "Good. Because tomorrow we start the rest of our lives. And I promise, it's going to be a lot more boring and a lot more romantic than today."
"I'm holding you to that," I smiled, drifting off.
The last thing I felt was Keifer kissing my temple and the weight of his arm holding me close, making sure the world stayed exactly where it was supposed to be: outside our door.