Chapter 19: "Therapeutic Kisses and Hospital Rules"
(Keifer's POV)
Hospitals are humiliating.
Not because of the needles.
Not because of the machines.
But because Jay thinks she's in charge now.
And she is enjoying it way too much.
I woke up to her sitting beside my bed with a notebook.
A literal notebook.
"What is that," I asked, voice still thick from sleep.
She didn't look up.
"Your schedule."
"My what."
She flipped a page dramatically.
"8:00 AM – Wake up. 8:15 – Temperature check. 8:30 – Breakfast. 9:00 – Rest. 10:00 – Light walk if approved. 12:00 – Lunch. 1:00 – Nap."
I blinked slowly.
"Nap?"
"Yes, nap."
"I don't nap."
"You faint."
"That was once."
"You were unconscious for eleven days and then fainted again. That's not once, gago."
I tilted my head slightly.
"That qualifies."
She looked up sharply.
"Don't even think about it."
"I wasn't."
"You were."
I gave her my most innocent look.
Which doesn't work on her anymore.
"Jay."
"No."
"You just insulted me."
"I'm aware."
"So I'm owed."
She narrowed her eyes.
"You're sick."
"Exactly. I need comfort."
"You are unbelievable."
I shifted slightly in bed, ignoring the dull ache in my ribs.
"You called me gago."
"You were being stubborn."
"So?"
She sighed loudly.
Then leaned closer.
"Fine. One. Short. Kiss."
She pecked my lips.
Barely there.
I raised an eyebrow.
"That was a legal technicality."
She gasped.
"You said one kiss!"
"I didn't specify duration."
"You absolute jerk."
That one was sharper.
So I grabbed her wrist gently and pulled her closer.
This time I kissed her properly.
Slow.
Not rushed.
Not weak.
Her hand instinctively went to my chest before she remembered my stitches.
She froze.
Pulled back.
"Don't you dare move like that."
"I'm fine."
"You're not."
"I'm getting there."
Her eyes softened for a split second.
Then hardened again.
"Eat your breakfast."
"Yes, ma'am."
Her face turned pink immediately.
I smirked.
"That was involuntary," she muttered.
"Interesting reaction though."
She threw a pillow at my head.
By afternoon, I was less dizzy.
Still tired.
Still slower than usual.
But functional.
Jay refused to leave the room.
Even when Angelo came by.
Kuya Angelo stood at the doorway, arms crossed, watching us.
"You look alive," he said.
"I am."
Jay cut in immediately.
"He's not allowed to do anything. Doctor's orders."
Angelo smirked at me.
"You're in trouble."
"I'm aware."
Jay pointed at him.
"And you're not helping."
Angelo laughed.
"I'll leave you two lovebirds alone before he starts acting dramatic."
"I do not act dramatic," I said.
Jay and Angelo both looked at me.
Simultaneously.
In sync.
"…You fainted because you skipped food," Jay said slowly.
"That was physiological."
"That was stupid."
I considered that.
"…Mildly."
Jay groaned.
Angelo shook his head and left.
When the door closed, she turned to me.
"You're not invincible."
"I know."
"You act like you are."
"I act like I need to be."
"For who?"
"For you."
Silence fell between us.
Heavy but not sharp.
She stepped closer.
"You don't need to impress me by destroying yourself."
"I'm not trying to impress you."
"Then what are you doing?"
I watched her carefully.
This wasn't teasing anymore.
This was real.
"I'm trying to make sure you never feel unsafe again."
Her expression softened.
"You already do that."
"Not enough."
"You took the impact for me."
"That was reflex."
"You stayed in a coma for eleven days."
"That was inconvenient."
She stared at me in disbelief.
"Inconvenient?!"
"It disrupted plans."
She grabbed my face with both hands suddenly.
"You are not a calendar."
Her thumbs brushed lightly near my jaw.
"You are not a machine."
Her voice dropped.
"You're a person."
I looked at her hands on my face.
Warm.
Grounding.
"And you," I said quietly, "are dangerously close to climbing into this bed."
She froze.
Then slowly realized how close she was.
Her knee was literally touching the mattress.
Her breath hitched slightly.
"You're impossible."
"I'm observant."
She tried to step back.
I caught her wrist again.
Gently.
"Stay."
Her eyes flickered.
"…Keifer."
"Please."
That word surprised both of us.
She didn't argue after that.
She sat on the edge of the bed.
Close enough that I could feel her warmth.
But careful.
Always careful.
I leaned slightly toward her.
"You smell like my shampoo."
"That's because I slept at your house for days, idiot."
"Mm."
Her eyes widened.
"Why did you say it like that."
"Like what."
"Like you're enjoying it."
"I am."
She hit my shoulder again.
Soft.
"Pervert."
That one made me smile wider.
"So you admit you were in my room."
"I was taking care of you!"
"In my bed."
"You were unconscious!"
"And now I'm not."
Her face turned red.
Spectacularly.
"You're disgusting."
"And yet you're still here."
She shoved my chest lightly—
Then immediately panicked.
"Does that hurt?!"
I caught her hand before she pulled away.
"No."
She exhaled slowly.
Then glared.
"You are such an asshole."
"That's another one."
Before she could react, I leaned forward and kissed her again.
Longer this time.
She tried to resist for exactly two seconds.
Then melted.
Her fingers curled into my hospital gown lightly.
Careful of the stitches.
When we finally pulled apart, her breathing was uneven.
"You're supposed to be resting," she whispered.
"I am."
"That's not rest."
"It's therapeutic."
She laughed despite herself.
And that sound—
That sound was worth every needle in this building.
(Jay's POV)
He is insufferable.
Absolutely insufferable.
He almost dies.
He stays in a coma.
He gets a fever.
He faints.
And now that he's slightly stable—
He's flirting like nothing happened.
I should be angry.
I was angry.
But every time he smiles—
Every time he teases—
It feels like the universe correcting itself.
Like balance returning.
He asked for water.
I handed it to him.
He drank.
Then looked at me over the rim of the cup like he was plotting something.
"What."
"Come here."
"No."
"Yes."
"For what."
He tilted his head slightly.
"I want to check something."
"Check what."
"If you still panic when I lean in."
My heart betrayed me immediately.
"Shut up."
"That's not an answer."
I stepped closer because I'm apparently incapable of self-control.
He set the cup down slowly.
His eyes never left mine.
Then he leaned forward slightly.
Not touching.
Just close enough.
My breath caught.
He smirked faintly.
"Still does."
"I hate you."
"Mm."
He brushed his thumb lightly against my wrist.
"Lie."
I swallowed.
"You almost died."
"And I didn't."
"You were gone for eleven days."
"I came back."
"You fainted."
"I woke up."
"You had a fever."
"It's lower."
I stared at him.
He stared back.
Steady.
Warm.
Annoyingly alive.
"I was terrified," I whispered finally.
His teasing expression softened instantly.
"I know."
"You weren't there."
"I'm here now."
I blinked rapidly.
He reached up slowly, hesitated because of the IV, then lowered his hand again.
Frustrated.
I grabbed it for him.
Placed it against my cheek.
"There," I said softly.
His thumb brushed lightly along my skin.
Not teasing now.
Just gentle.
"You look thinner," he murmured.
"I wasn't eating properly."
His eyes sharpened.
"Why."
"Because you weren't."
Silence.
"That was unwise," he said quietly.
I glared.
"Don't start."
"I'm not starting."
"Yes you are."
"You neglected yourself."
"So did you!"
"Different circumstances."
"You are unbelievable."
He sighed faintly.
Then did something unexpected.
He shifted slightly and made space beside him.
"Come here."
My heart jumped.
"You're injured."
"I'm aware."
"I'll hurt you."
"You won't."
I hesitated.
Then carefully, carefully climbed onto the edge of the bed.
Not fully.
Just enough to sit beside him.
He leaned his head slightly against my shoulder.
And for once—
He didn't joke.
Didn't tease.
Didn't calculate.
He just breathed.
Slow.
Steady.
Alive.
My fingers slid carefully into his hair.
"You scared me," I whispered again.
"I'm sorry."
That one was soft.
Real.
I pressed a kiss to his forehead.
"You're not allowed to leave me like that."
"I'll try not to."
"Not try. Do it."
He tilted his head slightly to look at me.
"You're very bossy when emotional."
"And you're very annoying when conscious."
"That's fair."
I smiled weakly.
"Rest," I murmured.
"Yes, ma'am."
I froze.
He grinned faintly.
I narrowed my eyes.
"You're pushing your luck."
"And yet."
I leaned down and kissed him anyway.
Because I can't help it.
Because he's dramatic.
And perverted.
And reckless.
And infuriating.
And mine.
And staying alive—
Apparently means surviving each other too.