THE DOOR OPENS — KEIFER'S POV
For a long moment, I just stood there.
Hand on the doorknob. Heart in my throat. Breathing uneven, like I'd run a marathon.
I didn't know what I was afraid of seeing.
Keigan still crying?
Jay overwhelmed?
The distance between the two people I cared about the most still too wide?
But when I finally pushed the door open…
I froze.
Everything inside me just stopped.
Keigan was curled against Jay's side — shoulders relaxed, eyes half-lidded, breathing finally steady.
And Jay…
Jay was brushing his hair back gently, humming something soft under her breath, thumb rubbing small circles on his back.
Both of them looked up.
Jay gave me a small, quiet smile.
Keigan gave me an even smaller one.
Something in my chest cracked open so fast I had to grip the door frame.
"Kuya…" Keigan whispered.
His voice wasn't scared anymore.
Just tired. Safe. Soft.
I walked in slowly, like I was stepping into a dream I didn't want to break.
"You okay, little man?" I asked, kneeling beside the bed.
He nodded and lifted one hand — tiny, hesitant — reaching for me.
I held it instantly.
He squeezed my fingers. Not in fear this time. But in reassurance.
"I'm sorry, Kuya," he whispered. "I didn't mean to scare you."
The guilt hit me hard, quick, piercing.
"Hey," I said softly, cupping his cheek. "Don't ever say sorry for being scared. I just… I just want you safe. Always."
His lip trembled.
Then he surprised me — leaning forward and hugging me first.
Small arms around my neck. Shaky breath warming my shoulder.
I hugged him back, eyes burning, my hand smoothing circles on his back just like I used to when he was five.
After a moment, he whispered—
"Jay-Jay promised she won't leave you."
My heart tripped.
My gaze snapped to Jay.
She looked away quickly, cheeks faintly pink, but there was this softness in her eyes — the kind that made something deep inside me settle.
Like everything finally… clicked.
I swallowed hard. Tears pricked at the corner of my eyes. I blinked them away — not very successfully.
"Yeah?" I said quietly. "She did?"
Keigan nodded, sleepy and honest.
"And she promised she won't take you away from me either."
Jay mouthed he told me that with a tiny shrug.
A laugh escaped me — breathy, emotional, shaky.
I leaned over to her, my hand gliding over her knee in a silent thank you.
"You fixed both of us," I whispered.
She shook her head immediately. "I didn't fix anything. He just needed someone to listen."
I stared at her.
Really stared.
And every wall, every defense, every mask I'd ever built up just… fell.
Because right there, in my room, on my brother's bed, with Keigan curled between us and Jay sitting so quietly, so steady — it hit me:
This is what safe feels like.
This is what home feels like.
I was still kneeling by Keigan's bed, brushing his hair back softly, when I heard a faint shuffle behind me.
The door opened slowly.
Keiren, the youngest, peeked in, eyes wide and uncertain.
"Kuya…?" his tiny voice quivered.
I turned, offering a small, reassuring smile. "Hey, little man. It's okay. Come here."
He hesitated for a moment — the kind of hesitation that spoke of a thousand unspoken fears — then slowly walked forward.
Keigan, still curled up against me, lifted a tiny arm and patted the space beside him.
"Keiren… come lie down," he whispered.
Keiren's lips trembled into a small smile. "I… I wanna be with you too."
I lifted him gently, guiding him onto the bed. He curled up next to Keigan, resting his head against his brother's shoulder. Both of them were small, fragile, and so perfect in the quiet way only little siblings could be.
Keigan glanced at me, eyes soft. "Jay… it's okay. She can stay too."
Jay nodded, moving closer to the bed, careful not to overwhelm the space, letting her warmth wrap around the two boys. She brushed Keiren's hair back gently, her hand lingering on his shoulder for just a moment, and I watched her with a mix of awe and relief.
The three of them — Keigan, Keiren, and Jay — settled like this, soft breathing, bodies close but not cramped, trust flowing quietly between them.
I sat at the edge of the bed, just close enough to reach out, brushing a loose strand of hair from Keigan's face. The room was finally calm, safe, warm.
Keiren murmured, sleepy now, "I like it… here…"
Keigan yawned, snuggling closer to his little brother. "Me too."
Jay's voice was soft, almost a whisper. "I like it too."
And as I looked at all three of them — my little brother, my youngest brother, and the girl who now held all our hearts — I felt something settle deep in my chest:
This was family.
This was home.
And right now, nothing else mattered.
The three of them drifted off into sleep, and I stayed there a moment longer, hand resting lightly on Keigan's back, fingers brushing against Keiren's. Jay's hand found mine, and we shared a small squeeze — a quiet understanding, a promise that we'd protect this fragile, perfect moment forever.
For the first time that day, I finally exhaled.
Everything was… okay.
JAY'S POV — NIGHT SHIFTED INTO SOMETHING QUIET
By the time Keigan and Keiren had both curled up and fallen asleep, the room felt impossibly still. Even the quiet breathing of the two boys seemed to hum in my chest.
I yawned softly and tried to shift under the blanket, intending to get a little distance. I needed to move — I knew Angelo and Aries might be expecting me at home, the thought pressing on the back of my mind like a weight.
But I didn't get far.
A strong, warm hand slipped around my waist before I could pull away.
"Jay…" Keifer's voice was low, gentle, barely more than a whisper, but it stopped me cold.
I froze.
"I can't let you leave," he murmured, his chest brushing against my back.
I tried to wriggle gently, tugging slightly. "Keifer, I… I really should. Kuya Angelo and Aries—they'll be worried."
"I don't care," he said softly, almost desperately. "You're here. Stay. Please."
I turned slowly in his arms to look at him. His eyes were shadowed, tired, and fierce all at once. His hands didn't tighten aggressively, but they held me like letting go wasn't an option.
"I… I can't," I whispered, heart hammering in my chest. "I should… I need to—"
Keifer shook his head, leaning closer until our foreheads touched. "No. Not tonight. Not when they're both safe and asleep. You're not leaving me, Jay. Not like this."
I blinked, my own breath catching. I wanted to argue, wanted to insist, but the way he looked at me—like he'd been holding in fear and relief and love all at once—made it impossible.
Instead, I let myself be pulled closer.
He settled me gently against him on the bed, warm, grounding, impossibly steady. His chest rose and fell in slow, measured breaths. My arms found their own way around him, almost without thinking.
I whispered, barely audible: "Just… for a little while?"
"Forever if I could," he replied softly, pressing a kiss to my temple.
I let out a shaky laugh, burying my face in his shoulder. "You're impossible."
He chuckled quietly, low and content, the sound vibrating against my ear. "Yeah, but you're staying anyway. And I'm not letting you go."
I let myself relax fully for the first time in hours, feeling the heat of his body against mine, the quiet strength of his presence wrapping around me like a shield. The world outside — Angelo, Aries, responsibilities, expectations — it all faded into nothing.
For now, there was only this: the soft rise and fall of his chest, the warmth of his arms, the quiet that finally felt safe.
And for the first time that night, I allowed myself to simply… be.
JAY'S POV — KEIFER'S ROOM
Keigan and Keiren were finally asleep, and the house had settled into a fragile, comforting quiet. I felt Keifer's hand on my back, guiding me gently as we slipped out of the boys' room.
His room was dim, the soft glow of the nightlight painting the walls in muted gold. I hesitated at the doorway for a second, and he smiled, that crooked, reassuring smile that made my chest ache.
"Stay," he whispered.
I nodded, and without another word, we settled onto his bed. His arms wrapped around me instantly, pulling me close. I rested my head against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath my ear, the warmth of his body seeping into mine.
We didn't speak. We didn't need to. His hands held me gently, brushing my back and shoulders as though memorizing every inch of me. And slowly, as the night deepened, I felt my eyelids grow heavy.
I fell asleep like that — safe, anchored, held in the arms of someone who'd become more than words could ever express.
---
MORNING — SUNRISE
The first light of dawn crept through the blinds, spilling soft gold across the room.
I woke slowly, blinking against the brightness. My body was warm and heavy, cocooned in the gentle weight of Keifer's arms around me.
I didn't move. I just watched.
Keifer was still asleep, chest rising and falling evenly, lips slightly parted, his face relaxed in a way I'd never seen before. No walls. No masks. Just him, completely unguarded.
My heart swelled. I wanted to reach out, to trace his jawline with my fingers, to memorize the small details of him in the quiet morning. But I stayed still, careful not to disturb the fragile peace we had built overnight.
His arms tightened slightly around me as if sensing I was awake, pulling me a little closer. I allowed myself a soft sigh, nuzzling into his chest.
Sunlight spilled over the room, warm and golden, and for the first time in a long time, everything felt… perfectly right.
I stayed there, letting the world wait, letting the quiet hold us, and simply breathed him in — Keifer, steady and real, holding me like I belonged.
And in that moment, I knew I did.
JAY'S POV — MORNING AFTER SUNRISE
The golden light of morning filtered gently through the blinds, painting Keifer's room in warm hues. I stirred slowly, still wrapped in his arms, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.
I couldn't help the small, sleepy smile that tugged at my lips. He looked so peaceful like this — the tough, cocky Keifer Watson completely unguarded, letting me see him like this.
Careful not to wake him, I shifted slightly to untangle myself. But as I tried to move, his arms tightened around me instinctively, pulling me back closer.
"Don't… go," he mumbled, voice husky with sleep.
I chuckled softly, pressing my forehead to his chest. "I'm not going anywhere."
His hands smoothed over my back, gentle, grounding. We stayed like that for a long moment — two people wrapped in quiet comfort, letting the world wait.
Eventually, the stomach rumble from both of us — mine louder — reminded us that we couldn't stay in this perfect bubble forever.
"I'm hungry," I whispered, nuzzling his shoulder.
He groaned, burying his face against my hair. "Breakfast can wait…"
"Keifer," I teased, tugging gently on his arm. "I'm talking food. You know, that thing that keeps us alive."
He sighed dramatically, finally letting go of me. "Fine… but only if it's you making it."
I rolled my eyes, sliding off the bed. "Don't flatter yourself. I'll make it anyway."
He swung his legs over the side of the bed, yawning, and stretched. "Then I guess I'll follow my personal chef," he muttered, a sleepy smirk tugging at his lips.
We made our way to the kitchen — quiet footsteps, soft teasing glances, occasional brushes of fingers as we passed each other. There was something so easy about this morning, so different from the chaos of yesterday.
Halfway through making breakfast, he leaned against the counter behind me, arms crossed, watching me with that infuriatingly smug smile.
"You know," he said softly, "I could get used to mornings like this."
I tossed him a spatula — not hard enough to hurt, just enough to playfully scold. "Mornings like this are a trap. You're gonna get too soft."
He caught it with ease, grinning. "I don't care. You, me, and the boys… this is enough."
I paused, hand on the frying pan, and let the words sink in.
He was right. For now, it was enough.
And as the sun rose higher, spilling gold across the kitchen, I felt that quiet, steady happiness settle deep in my chest.
The world outside could wait.
For once, it could wait.