Jay-Jay (POV)
When I woke up…
I felt warm.
I didn't need to open my eyes to know why.
Still—
I turned slightly, just enough to look at his face.
…This jerk.
He must've pushed the pillows away in the middle of the night.
Of course he did.
My gaze lingered on him for a second longer than it should have.
He says he doesn't want to own me…
But the way he holds me—
like he's willing to give up everything just to stay—
That kind of love isn't light.
It's consuming.
And I…
I love him too.
That's the problem.
I knew it even now—
I couldn't hate him.
Even if I wanted to.
How do you hate someone who broke for you?
Someone willing to sacrifice everything… even himself?
A slow breath left me.
I knew the truth.
No matter how far I walked—
I would always find my way back to him.
Always.
But…
I still needed time.
Time to understand everything.
Time to breathe through the answers he gave me.
A small frown formed on my face.
Would I have done the same?
Push away the person I love… just to protect them from danger?
…Maybe.
Maybe that's why I couldn't completely blame him.
And yet—
Why am I so weak when it comes to Kiefer?
If it were anyone else…
If someone had lied to me, hurt me like this—
I wouldn't have hesitated.
I would've made sure they never got close to me again.
But him?
I can't.
Before I could stop myself, my hand moved—slowly, gently—resting against his face.
Warm.
Even in sleep.
"…You're really something," I whispered under my breath.
I leaned in slightly.
Careful.
As if even this might wake him.
My lips brushed his forehead first.
Soft.
Then, after a small pause—
I kissed him again.
This time on his lips.
"I love you, Kiefer…" I murmured.
For a second, I just stayed there.
Then reality slipped back in.
"…Right. Kuya."
I pulled back, glancing around the room.
I needed to let him know everything was okay.
My eyes searched for my phone—
and landed on it.
Right beside Kiefer.
Of course.
I stared at it for a moment.
Then at him.
Then back at the phone.
…Too far.
I sighed softly.
"Why is it always like this…" I muttered.
Carefully, I shifted, trying to move across him without disturbing his sleep.
Slow.
Quiet.
Almost there—
And then—
He moved.
I froze instantly.
My breath caught.
…Wait.
I lifted my gaze slightly—
And saw it.
That faint curve on his lips.
…This jerk.
"You're awake?" I narrowed my eyes.
I tried to move away immediately—
But his hand caught me.
Effortless.
Like he had been waiting for it.
Before I could even react, he pulled me toward him.
I fell straight onto his body.
We were facing each other now.
Close.
Too close.
His arms slid around my waist instantly, holding me in place before I could even think of moving.
No space left between us.
No escape.
Just him beneath me—watching me quietly, like he already knew I wouldn't run.
Warm.
Too familiar."Yes… just now," he murmured, voice rough with sleep."If you want… You can stay."
His breath brushed my ear.
"I'm your husband… no need to be shy."
A pause.
Then, softer—teasing.
"You can take advantage of me."
My face heated instantly.
"Shut up," I muttered, trying to push him away—
but not really trying.
Not enough to leave.
Then I looked down—
And froze.
He was shirtless.
My eyes narrowed instantly.
"Why are you not wearing a shirt?" I asked.
He didn't even open his eyes.
"Because my wife likes my body," he said lazily, still holding me like nothing was wrong.
…This jerk.
I still wasn't used to him sleeping like this.
So shameless.
And worse—
I couldn't even look away.
It was annoying.
The way he got under my skin was just by existing.
"Like the view?" he added, a smirk forming without even looking at me.
I rolled my eyes hard and grabbed a pillow, hitting him.
"idiot."
His hand slipped under my shirt.
Warm.
Unexpected.
My breath hitched.
"What are you doing, Kiefer?" I asked, my voice coming out softer than I intended.
"Appreciating what's mine," he murmured. Heat rushed to my face instantly.
I pushed his hand away.
"Touch me again, and I'll kick you in your reindeer," I snapped, glaring at him.
He finally opened his eyes, amused.
"Jay… if you do that," he said, his voice low with teasing.
"…how are we supposed to have our firstborn?"
I froze.
"…What?"
The words slipped out before I could stop them.
My mind blanked for a second—
Then, it all caught up at once.
"Who said I'm having—"
I stopped.
Too late.
I stepped into the bathroom quickly, closing the door just a little too fast.
Not slammed.
But not normal either.
Behind me—
Silence.
Then it hit me.
I never told him.
About the baby.
My breath caught slightly as that realization settled in.
How could I have?
We were already breaking—both of us drowning in things we didn't know how to fix.
There was no space for something like this.
No right moment.
And now…
Now everything was finally… calmer.
Not perfect.
But not shattered either.
My fingers tightened slightly around my phone.
I should tell them too.
The thought came fast.
Heavy.
Necessary.
But—
My chest tightened.
I hadn't told anyone properly either.
Not Kuya.
Not the others.
Only Clyden… Jare… Percy.
And even then—
Not everything.
Not the truth I should have said out loud.
Guilt settled deep in my chest.
I unlocked my phone slowly, staring at the group chat.
My thumb hovered over the screen.
I could just send a message.
Something simple.
I'm okay.
Everything's fine now.
Sorry.
But…
I stopped.
A small breath left me.
No.
That wasn't enough.
They deserved more than that.
After disappearing.
After worrying them.
After hiding the truth.
My fingers curled slightly.
"I should say it properly…" I muttered under my breath.
Not through a message.
Not like it didn't matter.
I wanted to see their faces.
Hear their reactions.
Face them.
And apologize.
Properly.
For everything.
For leaving.
For hiding.
For not trusting them enough.
And…
My hand moved unconsciously to my stomach again.
Softer this time.
"…for this too."
A quiet pause.
"I'll tell them," I whispered.
But even as I said it—
Another thought lingered.
He still doesn't know.
My chest tightened again.
And this time—
It wasn't just guilt.
It was fear.
"Jay."
His voice.
Lower now.
Not teasing.
Something else.
I froze for half a second.
"…What?" I called back, trying to sound annoyed instead of nervous.
A pause.
Long enough to make my chest tighten.
"You've been acting weird since yesterday."
My grip tightened on the edge of the sink.
"…I've always been weird," I shot back lightly. "You're just noticing now?"
No answer.
That made it worse.
I turned the tap on, letting the sound of water fill the space—something to hide behind.
Something to breathe through.
Then—
"Open the door."
My breath caught.
I quickly splashed water onto my face, buying myself a few seconds.
Then—
I opened the door.
"Nothing," I said, forcing a scoff. "I'm just hungry… Cook for me."
He didn't move immediately.
His eyes stayed on me—searching.
"Really okay?" he asked slowly. "I mean… You always eat a lot, but lately… you're eating more. And you've been sleeping a lot too…"
My heart skipped.
I shrugged, turning away before he could read my face.
"That's because of someone," I said lightly. "I didn't eat or sleep properly for three days."
Silence.
When I glanced back—
He was already looking down.
Guilty.
"…Okay," he said quietly. "I'll cook for you."
Without another word, he walked past me and went into the washroom.
The moment the door clicked shut—
I exhaled.
Finally.
My shoulders dropped as I turned quickly, heading for my bag.
I needed a distraction.
Or maybe—
I just needed to feel normal for a second.
I opened it.
And paused.
Clothes.
Shoes.
Neatly packed.
And a small note tucked between them.
"Thank me later, your handsome bro."
A small smile slipped onto my lips.
"…Percy," I murmured.
Of course.
I shook my head slightly, folding everything back carefully.
"I will," I whispered.
Then I hid it again.
For later.
—
We went downstairs after that.
The house felt quieter now.
Softer.
He moved around the kitchen like he always did—focused, effortless.
Like this was his way of taking care of me.
Fried rice.
Simple.
But warm.
Familiar.
I sat at the table, watching him for a second before looking down at the plate.
I took a bite.
Chewed.
Swallowed.
But—
I couldn't taste anything.
My mind was somewhere else.
My hand moved unconsciously toward my stomach under the table.
Baby…
Everything felt louder because of that one thought.
"Jay."
I blinked, looking up.
He was watching me.
"You don't like it?" he asked.
I glanced down.
My plate was barely touched.
"…Nothing," I said quickly, picking up the spoon again. "If you don't run Watson's, you could open a restaurant."
I forced a small smile.
"You'd be a great chef… like Clyden."
He scoffed lightly.
"Tss."
But there was no real attitude behind it.
Just relief.
"Do you want ice cream?" he asked after a moment.
I nodded.
He brought it over.
Cold.
Sweet.
I took a spoonful.
This time—
I could taste it.
"…Hmm. It's sweet," I said quietly.
He hummed in response, sitting across from me.
Watching.
Not questioning.
But not fully convinced either.
And me?
I kept eating.
Pretending everything was normal—
While my mind stayed stuck on the one thing I still hadn't told him.
—
After that… we walked along the beach.
Maybe because I ate too much.
Or maybe because I was thinking too much.
The waves moved quietly beside us.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then—
"Jay…" he called.
I looked at him.
"…Did you forgive me?"
I exhaled slowly.
"I still need time," I said honestly.
He nodded.
But then—
"But you kissed me… and said you love me."
I stopped walking.
Slowly turned to look at him.
"…You were awake?" I asked.
That smile.
That stupid, knowing smile.
Yeah.
That answered everything.
"…You're unbelievable," I muttered.
A small silence passed.
Then—
"Kiefer…" I called.
He looked at me.
"Do you like kids?"
He stopped walking.
For a second, he just stared at me.
Then—
"Of course," he said. "Having a kid like you? That's a dream."
A small pause.
"I even picked names."
I blinked.
"…You did?"
"Yeah," he said proudly. "'Caretaker' and 'Watcher.'"
I stared at him.
"…What?"
"What kind of names are those?" I asked, completely serious.
He frowned slightly. "Isn't it cute?"
"Cute?" I scoffed. "What's cute—your face?"
"Handsome," he corrected immediately.
I rolled my eyes.
"I hate you, Kiefer."
I turned and started walking again.
But he followed, catching up easily.
His hand slid around my waist, pulling me closer.
"Let's start that," he said casually.
I frowned. "Start what?"
He leaned closer, voice dropping just enough to make me glare.
"I need to take you upstairs… cuddle you… kiss you…"
A pause.
"…and maybe start making one caretaker."
I froze.
Then immediately took off my slipper and threw it at him.
"Pervert!"
He dodged, laughing.
"Why am I wrong for asking my wife?" he said. "Can't I kiss my wife?"
I threw the other slipper this time.
"Idiot! Stop talking!" I snapped. "You're going to spoil our kid before he's even born!"
Silence.
Dead silence.
"…What kid?" he asked.
My heart jumped.
Crap.
"Idiot…" I muttered quickly. "Just—come with me."
Before he could ask again, I grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the house.
Upstairs.
Fast.
My heart was racing now.
Not from running.
From this.
From finally saying it.
Inside the room, I let go of his hand and grabbed the small box I had hidden earlier.
Then I turned to him.
And held it out.
"Open it."
He frowned slightly but took it.
Opened it.
And froze.
Tiny shoes.
So small.
So real.
"Jay…" his voice dropped. "Why did you bring these?"
I stared at him.
Seriously?
How is this man running Watson and still not understanding?
I walked closer.
Took his hand.
Slowly—
Gently—
Placed it on my stomach.
And looked straight into his eyes.
"…Our little one is already here."
Silence.
Everything stopped.
His expression didn't change immediately.
Like his mind needed a second to catch up.
And then—
I saw it.
His eyes.
Shifting.
Breaking.
Filling.
Tears.
"Hey…" I said softly, stepping closer. "What happened?"
His voice came out low.
Unsteady.
"…When did you know?"
"Two days ago," I answered.
A pause.
Then—
"I'm sorry."
I blinked.
"…Why?"
His jaw tightened slightly.
"You went through all this…" he said quietly. "And you had to handle it alone."
That—
That made my chest tighten.
He didn't ask about the baby.
He asked about me.
"…I'm okay, Kiefer," I said softly.
I placed my hand over his.
Because I wasn't alone anymore.
"Are you happy?" I asked him.
He didn't even hesitate.
"Of course."
A breath left him like it was the most obvious answer in the world.
"It's… ours."
His hand tightened over mine—warm, steady, certain.
And then he pulled me closer, pressing a soft kiss against my lips.
"I love you."
That was it.
That was supposed to be it.
I hugged him tightly, still trying to process everything, still trying to convince my brain that this wasn't some dream my emotions cooked up without permission.
But then I noticed it.
He was smiling.
Not just smiling—grinning.
Like he had just won something.
Like he had just remembered something very illegal and very unnecessary.
And for some reason…
That annoyed me.
A lot.
Why is he smiling like that?
My brows furrowed.
Why does he look so satisfied right now?
"What are you even thinking?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.
He paused.
Just a second too long.
That was suspicious already.
Then he said it.
"I'm just thinking… when we made him."
Silence.
My brain stopped.
My soul left the chat.
"I mean…" he added casually, like he wasn't digging his own grave, "we did a lot."
A beat.
Then another.
I stared at him.
Slowly.
Dangerously.
"Kiefer."
His name came out sharp.
Warning level: final stage.
But he didn't even look scared.
That was the worst part.
He actually looked… proud.
Like he thought he said something meaningful.
My face heated instantly.
"You're impossible!" I shouted.
He blinked once.
"…Is that a complaint or a compliment?"
That did it.
I grabbed his shirt and shoved him slightly.
Not hard.
Just enough to make my point.
"You're unbelievable," I muttered, still glaring at him.
He caught my wrist easily, still calm.
Still smiling.
"Yeah," he said softly.
Then leaned in a little closer.
"But you still married me."
I froze.
"…Unfortunately," I muttered.
His smile widened.
"Liar."
I rolled my eyes so hard it should've counted as exercise.
"You're going to be a bad influence."
"I already am," he said proudly.
That made me pause.
"…That part I agree with."
He laughed under his breath, pulling me gently back into his arms.
This time, quieter.
Softer.
Less teasing.
More real.
"I'm happy," he said again, as he needed me to hear it properly this time.
"Not just because of the baby."
A pause.
"…Because it's you."
My anger faltered a little at that.
Just a little.
I exhaled slowly, resting my forehead lightly against his chest.
"…Still impossible," I muttered.
His arms tightened around me like he didn't like the idea of me slipping away even a little.
"Yeah," he agreed.
Then, softer—
"But yours."
That one line should've been annoying.
It should've made me roll my eyes again.
Instead…
It just stayed.
Quiet.
Warm.
Like it didn't need any more explanation.
After that, he didn't let me do anything.
Literally.
Not a single thing.
The next thing I knew, we were outside.
A bonfire crackling against the sunset sky, the ocean air mixing with smoke and warmth.
And I was holding a stick with a marshmallow, like I had been assigned a very important mission in life.
Which, apparently, I was failing.
"Why is it not cooking well?" I complained to the marshmallow itself.
Like it was going to answer me.
Kiefer leaned back slightly, watching me like I was the entertainment program of the evening.
"Jay…" he said slowly. "You're not cooking it well."
"…I can see that," I snapped.
Before I could protest further, he reached over, gently took the stick from me, and rotated it properly, like this was a life skill exam I had failed.
Then he handed it back.
Like I had been upgraded.
I took a bite immediately.
"…Oh," I said, pausing.
Good.
Too good.
I blinked at him.
"Do you like sweets, right?" I asked.
"Hm," he replied.
Then added casually, like it was nothing—
"But nothing sweeter than your lips."
Silence.
My brain stalled.
"…Gago," I said automatically.
Because what else was I supposed to say to that?
He just smiled like he was proud of himself.
I poked his arm with the marshmallow stick.
Hard.
"Stop saying weird things."
He caught my wrist mid-poke.
Effortless.
Like I was the one being managed, not him.
"Jay," he said softly.
Then pulled me—
Straight into his lap.
I froze.
"…Kiefer!"
But he didn't even respond.
Not properly.
He just looked at me like I was already where I was supposed to be.
Then kissed me.
Once.
Then again.
And again.
Not rushed.
Not rough.
Just… constant.
Like he forgot how to stop once he started.
My marshmallow stick wobbled uselessly in my hand before I finally gave up and dropped it somewhere I didn't care about anymore.
My arms moved around his shoulders instead.
Automatically.
Like my body had already chosen him over everything else.
He kissed me slower then.
Deeper.
Like the world around us didn't matter at all—just this moment, just this breath, just us.
When he finally pulled back slightly, his forehead rested against mine.
"You're eating too many sweets," he murmured.
I frowned instantly.
"…That's your fault."
His lips twitched.
"Good."
The bonfire crackled softly behind us, painting everything in warm orange light.
For once… my mind wasn't loud.
Just quiet.
Too quiet.
Because he still wasn't letting me go.
His arms stayed around me like I might vanish if he loosened even a little. And worse—
He was looking at me.
Not just looking.
Studying.
Eyes flicking between mine… then my lips… then back again, like he was calculating something extremely dangerous.
I narrowed my eyes.
"…Kiefer."
He hummed.
"What are you planning in your mind?"
A pause.
Then he said it completely seriously.
"I'm thinking maybe I can get more kisses."
I blinked.
"…What?"
He nodded like it was a business proposal.
"I still have 36 profanities left."
Silence.
But before I could fully process what nonsense he just invented—
He kissed me.
Again.
No warning.
Just done.
My brain short-circuited.
"Kie—" I tried to protest—
Kiss.
Again.
I pushed his shoulder lightly.
Another kiss.
I tried to speak.
Another one.
At some point, I lost track of whether I was arguing or just… existing in between kisses.
The bonfire crackled.
The sky darkened.
And this idiot acted like he was collecting rewards for every breath I took.
"Kiefer…" I mumbled at one point, half-conscious now.
He didn't stop.
If anything, he got more comfortable about it.
I didn't even realize when the world shifted—
When the sand disappeared—
When the bonfire sound finally faded—
Only warmth stayed.
And him.
And then I was in the room.
On the bed.
Somehow.
I didn't even remember the walk properly. One moment it was sunset and marshmallows, and the next—
I was here.
With him.
He leaned into me immediately, like distance was something offensive.
His arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me close, then closer.
Too close.
Then—
He buried his face in my neck.
And like it wasn't enough, he hooked his legs over mine too.
Like he was actively trying to become part of my body.
"…Hey," I blinked. "What are you doing?"
My hands instinctively went to his shoulders.
Not pushing him away.
Just… holding him.
He was heavier than me. Always was.
Bigger.
Always acting like he could handle everything.
But right now?
He looked… small.
Weirdly soft in my arms.
Like all that confidence outside had turned into this clingy mess that refused to let go.
"Jay…" he murmured into my neck.
His breath was warm.
Too close.
"Let me stay like this…"
I frowned slightly.
"Like what?"
His grip tightened a little.
"I can't control myself if this continues," he said simply.
Then, like it was obvious:
"And you need rest."
I stared at him.
"…You're the one who started it."
Instead of answering properly—
He kissed my neck again.
Like that was an explanation.
I stiffened.
"Kiefer."
He didn't move away.
Didn't even pretend to listen.
Just stayed there, breathing against my skin like it was the only place he could settle.
"Kiefer, how am I supposed to sleep when you're doing this?" I asked again, trying to sound annoyed.
But my voice came out weaker than I intended.
Because honestly—
My body wasn't helping.
He finally shifted slightly.
Just enough to look up at me.
Hair is messy.
Eyes half-lidded.
Still holding me like I was the only thing keeping him grounded
"…Jay," he said, softer now.
Not teasing.
Not playful.
Just… him.
"I'm okay like this."
A pause.
Then quieter—
"…with you here."
My frustration stopped halfway.
Just… stopped.
Because he wasn't smiling like earlier.
Not joking.
Not provoking.
Just holding on like if he loosened even a little—
Everything might change again.
I exhaled slowly.
"…You're heavy," I muttered.
His lips curved slightly.
"You're still holding me."
"…Because you're annoying."
"Mhm."
Another pause.
Then I adjusted slightly, letting him stay exactly where he was.
Not because he won.
Just because…
It felt easier that way.
His arms tightened in response immediately, as he noticed.
Like he always notices.
And then—
He buried his face back into my neck again, quieter this time.
Less restless.
More… settled.
I rolled my eyes lightly.
This man is impossible even in his sleep.
I leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his head.
"…Sleep on, asshole," I muttered, patting his hair gently.
No reaction.
Just steady breathing.
He was fully out now—completely knocked out, as all that teasing and talking had finally caught up with him.
And somehow…
He still had his arms around me.
Like, even when unconscious, he didn't trust distance.
I stared at him for a moment.
His face looked different like this.
No smirk.
No sarcasm.
No attitude that made me want to throw something at him.
Just… calm.
Almost soft enough to make me forget how annoying he is when he's awake.
Almost.
I sighed quietly, adjusting slightly so he wouldn't slip.
"…I can't handle you," I whispered under my breath.
A pause.
My fingers lightly brushed his hair again, slower this time.
"…How am I supposed to handle another version of you?"
A faint breath left me—something between disbelief and helpless amusement.
Because that thought…
A baby.
His baby.
My chest tightened for a second.
Not fear.
Just… reality settling in.
More of him.
More chaos.
More stubbornness.
More warmth.
More of everything I already struggle with.
And yet—
My grip on him didn't loosen.
Because even with all that noise in my head…
One thing was clear.
He wasn't going anywhere.
And weirdly enough…
That was the part that made it easier.
I leaned back slightly, still holding him, watching the steady rise and fall of his breathing.
"…Idiot," I muttered again, softer this time.
Then added, almost like an afterthought—
"But you're not leaving me alone."
A small pause.
I let out a quiet breath.
"…So I guess I'm stuck with you."
My hand rested on his head one last time.
Gentle.
Almost fond.
And I stayed like that.
Not because I had no choice.
But because for once…
I didn't want to move either.