JAY JAY POV
Asshole.
I finally made it back to my room, my heart still performing a frantic drum solo against my ribs. I practically collapsed against the door, my lungs feeling tight and shallow. I reached into my bag and fumbled for my inhaler, taking a deep, shaky hit.
I was already short on breath from the sheer humidity, but that asshole made sure I was completely out of it. Between the "physics lesson" that felt like an eternity and the intense, oxygen-deprived session in the car, I was officially physically exhausted.
I leaned my head back against the wood of the door, waiting for my airways to open up and my pulse to return to something resembling a human rhythm. My skin felt sensitive wherever his hands had been, and the fresh mark on my shoulder was stinging in the best, most frustrating way possible.
I looked in the full-length mirror, seeing my messy hair and the high collar I was still clutching like a shield. I should have been angry. I should have been making a list of all the ways I was going to get him back for being such a possessive lunatic.
Instead, I felt a slow, traitorous smile spread across my face.
"Idiot," I whispered to my reflection, clutching the inhaler to my chest. I was officially, undeniably in over my head. I loved him. I actually loved the King of Assholes.
"Jay-Jay?" Tita Serina's soft knock pulled me out of my spiral.
I scrambled to hide my inhaler and smoothed down my hair, trying to look like someone who hadn't just been pinned against a steering wheel ten minutes ago. I went and opened the door for her.
"What is it, Tita?" I asked, leaning against the frame and trying to keep my voice steady.
Tita came inside and sat on the edge of my bed, her expression a mix of warmth and that serious look that usually preceded a life-changing announcement. She patted the spot next to her, gesturing for me to sit.
"Tomorrow is Christmas," Tita started, her eyes softening as she looked at me. "And for New Year... your parents and I made a decision."
My heart did a nervous little skip. Whenever parents and Tita Serina made "decisions" in a group chat, it usually meant Jare and I were about to be moved like chess pieces across a board.
"A decision?" I repeated, sitting down beside her. I subconsciously gripped the hem of my sweater, making sure my collar was still hiding Keifer's latest 'penalty.' "Is everything okay in London? Is Papa okay?"
"Everyone is fine, sweetheart," Tita reassured me, reaching out to tuck a stray hair behind my ear.
She stood up then, smoothed out the wrinkles in my duvet, and gave me a look that was hard to read—a mix of pity and guilt. "Just don't be mad," Tita said softly.
And then she just... left.
I stood there, frozen in the middle of the room, staring at the closed door.
Huh?
I stood there, blinking at the empty doorway. "Just don't be mad?" I whispered to the silence.
That is literally the most terrifying sentence a parental figure can say. It's right up there with "We need to talk" and "I found your search history." My brain, already frazzled from Vitamin-Keifer and a lack of oxygen, started spinning through the worst-case scenarios.
1. They're selling the house in London and moving us to a remote island with no Wi-Fi. 2. They're getting divorced in a very dramatic, cinematic way. 3. They've decided Jare and I are staying in the Philippines for the rest of our natural lives.
I felt a sudden, sharp pang of homesickness mixed with pure anxiety.
What the hell? I didn't ask for much. Just a straightforward holiday without the cryptic riddles.
I tried to force the air back into my lungs, my grip tightening on the Snorlax until its plush face was distorted. Maybe I was overreacting. Maybe the "decision" was just about where we were having New Year's dinner, or some boring logistical thing about our flight back to London. Parents love to make mountains out of molehills; it's practically a hobby for them.
It's probably some decision that doesn't even involve me, I told myself, trying to manifest some calm. I hope so.
But Tita Serina's face... that look of pity. That wasn't the face of someone talking about a dinner reservation. That was the face of someone who knew the ground was about to drop out from under me.
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KEIFE POV
Mom came into my room earlier and dropped a vague bomb. She told me she'd made some decisions and warned me not to get angry or reactive. I tried to press her for details, but she shut me down, insisting that we would only learn the truth on New Year's Day.
The cryptic warning sat heavy in my gut, but I had more immediate problems to handle. After the break, Section E was calling a meeting. They had something to say about the original plan we created for Jay-Jay, and I already knew what it was; they all felt too close to her now.
She had become family to them. She'd meddled in every single one of their problems—getting Calix and Mica back together, or intervening with Grace and Denzel. It still amazed me how she figured out Grace was pregnant and managed to pull them back together. Then there was Ci-N; she'd taken the fall for him when he was accused of stealing, even though we all knew it was a setup by Section A. She had earned their loyalty, and now, the plan was a liability.
I slipped through the connecting door into Jay's room. She was sitting there, clearly lost in thought, looking a little more serious than usual.
"Are you thinking that's something new " I teased, leaning against the doorframe.
She rolled her eyes the second she saw me. "Why the hell is there a connecting door between my room and yours anyway?" she asked, sounding genuinely annoyed.
I walked over to her and pressed a lingering kiss against the side of her neck, right over the mark I'd claimed earlier. "Profanity," I murmured against her skin.
"That wasn't profanity, it's a place!" she defended, her voice hitching slightly, though she didn't push me away.
"I don't care. It means more kisses for me," I countered. I moved past her and dropped onto her bed, stretching out across her duvet to look up at her. "What's really on your mind, Jay?"
"Nothing," she said, her voice sounding a little too forced to be true.
I reached out and pulled her down until she was sprawled on top of me, her weight a comforting pressure against my chest. She didn't fight me this time; she just collapsed into the embrace, wrapping her arms around my torso and burying her face in the crook of my neck.
"What is it, Jay?" I asked again, my hand smoothing over the back of her head, my fingers tangling in the messy strands of her hair.
"Nothing," she murmured into my skin, her voice barely a thread.
We lay there in silence for a long time, the only sound the steady hum of the air conditioning and the rhythmic, synchronized beat of our hearts. I looked down at her—at this impossible, stubborn girl from London who had completely dismantled my life and my pride in sixty days—and I knew I couldn't wait any longer. I was done with 'penalties' and the vague boundaries between us.
"Let's be official," I said, the words coming out low, steady, and certain.
She bolted upright, the sudden movement putting a distance between us that felt colder than the air conditioning.
"What makes you want to say that?" she asked, her eyes searching mine with a mix of suspicion and a hesitation I couldn't quite place.
I sat up too, swinging my legs over the side of the bed but staying close enough to feel the heat radiating off her. I tried to keep my voice casual, even though my chest felt strangely tight. "Nothing dramatic. I just mean... we've already done everything else. I thought we should actually put a label on it. Make it official while we're at it."
She stared at me, and for the first time in weeks, I found myself completely unable to read her. Her mind was a thousand miles away. I could practically see the gears turning, her defensive walls sliding back into place as she looked at me.
"I need more time," she finally said, her voice small but firm.
The words hit me like a physical blow, a sharp reminder that despite everything we'd shared in this room, there was still a part of her I hadn't conquered yet.
I nodded, forcing myself to accept her answer without pushing her. I finally stood up from the bed, the mattress creaking as the weight left it.
But I wasn't ready to let that final, cold silence be the last thing between us for the evening. I leaned back in, reaching out to catch her jaw with my hand and pressing a slow, lingering kiss to her lips. It wasn't like the demanding, electric heat from the car; it was something softer, a quiet reminder that I wasn't going anywhere, even if she wasn't ready to put a label to whatever this was yet.
I pulled back, searching her eyes one last time before I finally turned and walked through the connecting door, back into the quiet of my own room and the heavy weight of the secrets I still had to tell her.
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Hey lovies 🤍✨ I'm so sorry — I thought I posted this chapter, but it turns out I didn't 😭 I've been a little stressed because my geometry test is tomorrow, and I'm trying to prepare for it. Everything feels a bit confusing right now, so my brain is everywhere 😭📚💔
I'm really, really sorry for the delay. Please wish me luck — my teacher said this is the test most people fail, and I'm trying my absolute best not to be one of them 😭🌿✨