JAY-JAY POV
After the celebration with Section E, I went home — still buzzing, still smiling, still half‑deaf from Blaster's speaker.
The moment I stepped inside, Kuya Angelo was already waiting in the living room like some final boss.
"So what did you get?" he asked, arms crossed, eyebrow raised.
"95 percent," I said, standing a little straighter because yes, I was proud.
Kuya's eyes widened. "Ninety‑five? Are you sure you didn't cheat or anything?"
I blinked at him.
Excuse me?
"Kuya, why would you say that?" I asked, genuinely offended.
He shrugged like it was the most normal question in the world. "I'm just checking. Ninety‑five is high. Very high. Suspiciously high."
I stared at him, jaw dropping. "Wow. Thanks for the support."
"I'm just being realistic," he said, sipping his coffee like he didn't just stab me in the chest.
"Realistic?!" I repeated. "Kuya, I studied! I literally died for that exam!"
He nodded slowly. "Okay. Okay. I believe you."
He did not look like he believed me.
I threw my bag on the couch dramatically. "You know what? Section E believed in me more than you did."
Kuya scoffed. "Section E also believes they can fight teachers and win."
"Exactly," I said. "They have faith."
He gave me that older‑brother look — the one that says I love you but you're insane.
Then he sighed. "Fine. I'm proud of you."
I blinked. "You are?"
"Yes," he said, rolling his eyes. "But I'm still checking your bag for cheat sheets."
"KUYA!"
"Fine, I'm just kidding," Kuya said, but his face didn't soften.
It never does.
That's the thing about him — he jokes, but he still looks like he's about to scold someone.
"Me and Keifer are going out today," I said.
Kuya's eyebrow twitched.
Just one.
Barely.
But I saw it.
"Oh," he said, voice flat. "Going out."
I nodded.
He stared at me for a long second, arms crossed, expression unreadable — like he was evaluating whether I was mentally stable enough to be released into society.
"Be home before dinner," he said.
I blinked. "That's it?"
He shrugged, looking away like he didn't care. "You're old enough to go out. I'm not your jailer."
Translation:
He cares.
He's worried.
He just refuses to show it because he's Kuya Angelo and showing emotions would apparently kill him.
I grabbed my bag. "Okay, Kuya."
He didn't look at me, just sipped his coffee. "Text me when you get there."
I smiled a little. "I will."
"And when you leave."
"Okay."
"And if he drives too fast, tell him to slow down."
"Kuya—"
"And if he tries anything stupid, call me."
I stared at him. "You said you weren't my jailer."
"I'm not," he said, still not looking at me. "I'm your brother."
My chest tightened a little.
Before I could say anything, he added quickly, "Don't make me regret trusting you."
There it was — the soft part, buried under ten layers of strictness.
I nodded. "I won't."
He finally looked at me, eyes sharp but warm underneath. "Good."
And that was it.
No hug.
No smile.
No "I'm proud of you."
Just strict words with soft meaning hidden inside them.
Classic Kuya Angelo.
When I went outside, Keifer was standing by his car — hands in his pockets, shoulders a little slumped, staring at the ground like it personally offended him.
He looked… sad.
"What happened?" I asked, walking up to him.
He looked up immediately — and I swear, the second our eyes met, he switched his whole face like he was flipping a light switch.
"Nothing," he said quickly, forcing a smile. "Just thinking about when you were gonna show up."
Liar.
A cute liar, but still a liar.
I nodded anyway, because pushing him never works. "Okay."
He opened the car door for me, still wearing that fake smile — the one that doesn't reach his eyes.
When he got into the car, he didn't say anything.
He just started driving like he had a mission.
"Keifer, where are we going?" I asked, watching the road and then his face.
"Somewhere special," he said, eyes glued to the road, jaw set like he was concentrating way too hard for a normal drive.
"Keifer, are we going to a park or a restaurant?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at him.
"Guess," he said, not even glancing my way, just smirking at the road like he was in some dramatic movie scene.
I stared at him.
Hard.
"Okay," I said slowly. "Restaurant?"
"Nope."
"Park?"
"Nope."
I frowned. "Then where?"
He smirked. "Jay, that's not how guessing works."
I groaned. "Keifer, I swear, if you take me to some creepy abandoned place—"
He laughed under his breath. "Relax. I'm not kidnapping you."
"You say that like kidnappers don't also say that."
He shook his head, still smiling. "Just trust me."
I slumped back in my seat dramatically. "I hate surprises."
"No, you don't," he said. "You just hate not being in control."
I glared at him. "Stop psychoanalyzing me while driving."
He finally looked at me for half a second — just long enough to give me that soft, stupid smile that always ruins my anger — then turned back to the road.
"You'll like it," he said quietly.
And the way he said it…
soft, certain, almost nervous…
Yeah.
Now I was even more curious.
And maybe a little scared.
But the good kind.
We reached our destination in no time, and the second the car stopped—
I froze.
It was a beach.
A really, really nice one.
Clear water, soft sand, the kind of place people post on Instagram with captions like "healing."
I didn't even think.
I just threw the door open and ran.
Like full‑speed, chaotic‑goblin ran.
The wind hit my face, the sand felt warm under my feet, and for a second, I swear I forgot how to breathe because it was so pretty.
Behind me, I heard Keifer yell, "Jay! Stop running, you might get hurt!"
I turned around just in time to see him sprinting after me.
Of course, I only ran faster.
"Catch me if you can!" I yelled, laughing as I kicked up sand behind me.
"Jay!" Keifer shouted, trying to catch up. "Stop running, you're gonna—"
Too late.
I dodged left, then right, then almost tripped over absolutely nothing because apparently gravity hates me.
I closed my eyes, fully prepared to eat sand and embarrass myself in front of the ocean.
But instead of pain, I felt strong arms wrap around my waist, pulling me upright before I could face‑plant.
"See? You almost fell down," Keifer whispered, his breath warm against my ear.
My eyes snapped open.
He was right behind me, chest pressed to my back, hands still holding my waist like I was made of glass.
"But you were there to catch me," I said, smiling up at him.
Keifer let out a breath — the kind that wasn't quite a laugh, but definitely wasn't neutral either.
His grip on my waist tightened just a little, like he didn't want to let go yet.
"Yeah," he murmured, voice low, "I always will be."
Something in my chest just… flipped.
Before I could even think about it, I leaned in and kissed him.
Warm.
Soft.
Quick at first — like my brain went, Do it, and my body said, Okay.
Keifer froze for half a second, like he didn't expect me to actually do it.
Then he kissed me back.
His hand slid up to the side of my face, gentle but sure, like he'd been waiting for me to make the first move. His other hand stayed on my waist, steadying me like I might fall again any second.
My heart was beating so fast I swear he could feel it.
When we finally pulled back, he didn't let go.
He just rested his forehead against mine, breathing a little harder than before.
"Jay…" he whispered, voice softer than the waves behind us.
I swallowed, trying to act normal even though my entire soul was doing cartwheels. "What?"
He smiled — not the cocky one, not the teasing one — the real one. The one he only shows when he forgets to hide it.
"You're gonna kill me one day," he said quietly. "And I'm still gonna thank you for it."
I shoved his chest lightly, face burning. "Shut up."
He laughed, pulling me closer again. "Not a chance."
And just like that, the beach didn't feel big anymore.
It felt like ours.
"Why is nobody at the beach?" I asked, looking around. It was empty. Completely empty. Not even a random tita taking selfies.
"Because I bought the beach," Keifer said, like he was telling me the weather.
I stared at him.
He said it so casually I almost missed it.
"You… bought the beach," I repeated slowly.
He nodded. "Yeah."
"Keifer," I said, pinching the bridge of my nose, "you have to stop wasting money. Like—first a private island, now a beach. What's next? A private country?"
He shrugged. Shrugged.
Like buying land was the same as buying chips.
"I mean… if it's for you," he said, "maybe."
I choked on air. "KEIFER."
He laughed, hands up like he was innocent. "What? You said guess."
"I didn't mean GUESS A WHOLE COUNTRY."
He smirked. "Relax. I'm not buying a country."
"Good."
"Yet."
"KEIFER!"
He burst out laughing, grabbing my hand before I could smack him. "I'm kidding. Mostly."
I rolled my eyes at him.
"Let's go and eat something," he said, pointing toward a house
"I didn't notice that before," I said, squinting at it.
Keifer didn't answer.
He just took my hand and gently pulled me toward it, like he'd been waiting for this moment the whole time.
When I stepped inside, I froze.
The entire place was decorated in my favorite color — blue.
Not just random blue.
My blue.
The exact shade I always pick.
Soft, calm, ocean‑blue.
The kind that feels like breathing.
Blue lights.
Blue flowers.
Blue tablecloth.
Blue ribbons.
Even the plates were blue.
My mouth fell open. "Keifer…"
He stood behind me, hands in his pockets, pretending like this wasn't the most romantic thing he's ever done. "Do you like it?"
"Like it?" I turned around, staring at him. "Keifer, this looks like Pinterest threw up my personality."
He laughed under his breath. "That's… good, right?"
"It's amazing," I said, walking deeper into the room, touching the decorations like they might disappear. "When did you even do all this?"
He shrugged, looking away like he wasn't dying for my reaction. "A while ago."
"A while ago?" I repeated. "You planned this?"
He nodded once, still avoiding my eyes. "Yeah."
My heart did that stupid, annoying flip again.
"You're insane," I whispered.
He finally looked at me — soft, nervous, hopeful. "Only for you."
I felt my face heat up instantly. "Keifer, stop saying things like that."
"Why?" he asked, stepping closer. "It's true."
I swallowed, suddenly very aware of how close he was. "You didn't have to do all this."
"I know," he said quietly. "I wanted to."
And just like that, the room felt even warmer than the lights.
"I'm hungry," I said, because romance is cute but food is food.
"Let's go. I prepared something for you," he said, pointing toward the kitchen.
I followed him, expecting maybe a sandwich or something normal.
But when I stepped inside—
I froze.
All my favorite items were there.
All of them.
My favorite snacks.
My favorite drinks.
My favorite dishes.
Even the dessert I always pretend I don't like but secretly eat at 2 a.m.
Everything was arranged neatly on the counter
My mouth fell open. "Keifer… what is all this?"
He leaned against the counter, trying to act casual, but the way his ears turned a little red gave him away. "You said you were hungry."
"This is not 'hungry,'" I said, pointing at the table. "This is a buffet."
"Liar. You would finish this in less than two hours," Keifer said, completely serious.
I just rolled my eyes at him because…
yeah.
He's not wrong.
He smirked the second he saw my reaction.
"Jay, you haven't even given me my prize yet," he said, pretending to sound sad.
"What prize?" I asked, confused.
He didn't answer.
Instead, he stepped closer — slow, deliberate — and wrapped his arms around my waist like it was the most natural thing in the world.
He pulled me in until our bodies were almost touching, his face inches from mine, eyes warm and annoyingly confident.
"This prize," he murmured, tilting his head slightly.
I blinked. "Keifer… what are you talking about?"
He smiled — that soft, dangerous smile that always makes my heart do gymnastics. "You kissed me earlier."
"So?" I said, trying to sound unaffected even though my voice definitely betrayed me.
"So," he whispered, brushing his thumb over my waist, "I want another one."
My face heated instantly. "Keifer—"
He leaned in just a little more, his forehead almost touching mine. "Jay… don't make me beg."
I didn't say anything and just kissed him.
He smiled against my lips, like he'd been waiting for that exact moment, and then he gently deepened the kiss — slow, careful, not rushing anything.
His hands stayed on my waist, steady and warm, holding me like I might slip away if he let go.
My heart was beating so fast I could barely think.
He pulled back just a little, just enough for our noses to brush, his forehead resting lightly against mine.
His eyes were half‑closed, soft in a way I didn't see often.
"I love you until scientists find the end of the universe," he said, eyes still closed, voice barely above a whisper.
My heart squeezed.
"I love you too, Keifer," I said, the words slipping out easier than I expected.
His eyes opened slowly, like he wanted to see the exact moment I said it.
And when he looked at me, there was something in his expression I hadn't seen before — something soft, almost fragile, like he was letting me see a part of him he usually hides.
He lifted a hand and gently brushed his thumb across my cheek, his touch warm and careful.
"Say it again," he whispered.
I smiled. "I love you."
He kissed me again — this one started gentle, but it deepened pretty fast.
He picked me up gently, and I wrapped my legs around him without even thinking
I didn't even realize when we ended up on the couch.
One second he was carrying me, the next we were sinking into the cushions together, his arms still around me, holding me steady like he didn't want to let go.
He kept kissing me, and I kept responding — every time he leaned in, I found myself meeting him halfway, like my body already knew what to do.
I gasped against his mouth when his hands slipped under my shirt.
He pulled back immediately.
We both froze, both of us blushing once we realized exactly where we'd ended up — tangled on the couch, breathing hard, way closer than either of us planned. His ears were bright red, and he wouldn't even look at me at first.
"Let's go and eat before I lose control," he muttered, voice low and rough in a way that made my stomach flip.
I nodded, still catching my breath, still feeling the warmth of his hands even though they weren't there anymore.
He stood up first, running a hand through his hair like he was trying to calm himself down. Then he offered me his hand — gentle, steady, almost shy.
I took it.
"Come on," he said, softer now. "Before I say something stupid."
I smiled, my cheeks still warm. "You already did."
"Babe, this is nothing compared to what I can do, you know that," he whispered in my ear.
A shiver ran straight down my spine.
I pulled back just enough to look at him, my face burning. "Keifer…"
"Let's go," Keifer said, guiding me to the dining table.
I sat down, still feeling the warmth of everything that just happened, and started to eat.
The first bite hit my tongue and I swear my eyes almost rolled back.
"Oh my god," I mumbled with my mouth full. "This is so good."
Keifer sat across from me, watching me like I was the meal.
His elbows rested on the table, chin propped on his hand, a small smile tugging at his lips.
"Of course it's good," he said. "I made sure everything was exactly how you like it."
I paused mid‑bite. "You cooked this?"
He shrugged, looking away like he wasn't low‑key proud. "Some of it. I helped with the rest."
I narrowed my eyes. "Define 'helped.'"
He smirked. "I told the chef what to do."
I groaned. "Keifer."
"What?" he said, leaning back in his chair. "I supervised."
"That's not cooking."
"It is if I say it is."
I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't stop smiling. "You're impossible."
"And you're eating everything I 'cooked,'" he said, making air quotes.
I stabbed a piece of food dramatically. "Because it's good."
He leaned forward, voice softer now. "Because it's for you."
My heart did that stupid flip again.
I looked down at my plate, trying to hide the smile creeping onto my face. "Shut up and eat."
He laughed quietly and picked up his fork.
And for a moment, everything felt warm and easy — like this was exactly where we were supposed to be.
After dinner, we walked along the beach — slow steps, quiet waves, his hand brushing mine every few seconds like he couldn't decide if he wanted to hold it or not. By the time he dropped me off at home, the sky was dark and my heart was doing that annoying flutter thing again.
"Bye, Jay," he said, leaning in to kiss me one more time.
It was quick, soft, almost shy — nothing like the couch earlier. Just a gentle goodbye, like he didn't want to overwhelm me again.
When he pulled back, he lingered for a second, his forehead almost touching mine.
"Text me when you're inside," he murmured.
I nodded, trying not to smile too hard. "Okay."
He stepped back toward his car, but he kept looking at me like he wasn't ready to leave yet. His hand hovered on the door handle, hesitating.
"Goodnight," he said, voice low.
"Goodnight, Keifer."
I turned to go inside, but I could feel his eyes on me the whole way — like he was making sure I got in safely, like he cared more than he wanted to admit out loud.
And when I closed the door behind me, I realized I was still smiling.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
💙🔥 Author's Note 🔥💙
How was the chapter 🤭✨
Please comment and tell me what you thought — I actually wanna know if you liked it or not 😭💬💙
Alsooo… just a heads‑up 👀💭
The next chapter is gonna be a little sad, I think 😭💙
Not like full emotional destruction (yet), but definitely some feelings are gonna be hurt 😔✨
So yeah… prepare yourselves 😭🎢