Chapter: "Careless Cut"
Jay's POV
Lunch was supposed to be peaceful.
Keyword: supposed.
After the breakfast competition disaster, Aries declared that this time we would "cook together like a healthy family."
That should've been my first warning.
The kitchen was loud again — oil sizzling, vegetables half-chopped, Aries talking nonstop, and Keifer standing between us like the only stable element in the room.
"I'm cutting the onions," I announced confidently.
Aries scoffed. "Don't cry."
"I don't cry over onions."
"You cry over—"
"Finish that sentence," I warned.
He shut up immediately.
Keifer was handling the stove, sleeves rolled up again, focused and annoyingly composed.
Why does he look so good just standing there?
Focus, Jay.
I grabbed the knife and started chopping.
Aries kept bumping into me while reaching for spices.
"Stop invading my space!"
"It's called teamwork!"
"It's called being annoying!"
Keifer glanced at us briefly. "Both of you, calm down."
"We are calm!" we snapped in unison.
He shook his head lightly.
I rolled my eyes and chopped faster.
Maybe too fast.
Aries suddenly reached across me to grab salt.
"MOVE!" I snapped.
"I just need—"
And then—
Slip.
A sharp sting.
The knife grazed my finger.
For a split second, I didn't process it.
Then I saw red.
Blood welled up instantly.
My breath caught.
The sound in the kitchen faded.
The sizzling. The talking. Everything.
All I could see—
Was red.
My chest tightened.
The knife dropped from my hand.
"Jay?" Aries said.
I couldn't answer.
The blood started dripping down my finger, and my vision blurred slightly.
Not again.
Not blood.
Not that.
"Jay," Keifer's voice changed immediately.
He moved faster than I've ever seen him move.
In two steps, he was in front of me.
"Look at me."
I couldn't.
My breathing turned uneven.
"I'm fine," I whispered, but my voice didn't match my words.
The memory flashed for a second—
Hospital corridors.
Metal smell.
That day.
No.
"Jay." His voice was firm now.
His hands gently but quickly took mine, lifting my injured hand up.
"It's small," he said calmly. "Just a cut. Nothing serious."
I felt dizzy.
Aries stepped closer. "Oh God, it's bleeding—"
"Stop," Keifer said sharply.
Aries froze.
"Get the first aid kit. Now."
Aries ran.
Keifer turned back to me.
"Breathe."
"I am breathing."
"You're not."
He was right.
My chest felt tight.
My ears were ringing.
He carefully wrapped his hand around my wrist — steady, grounding.
"Look at me," he repeated, softer this time.
I forced myself to meet his eyes.
They weren't teasing.
They weren't playful.
They were focused.
Protective.
"It's just a surface cut," he said slowly. "It'll stop in a minute."
The blood kept sliding down slightly.
My stomach twisted.
"I hate this," I whispered.
"I know."
His thumb brushed lightly against my wrist — not near the cut, just… there.
Grounding me.
Aries came back with the kit, slightly panicked. "Here!"
Keifer took it without looking away from me.
"Sit," he ordered gently.
I didn't argue.
He guided me to the chair and knelt slightly in front of me.
Aries hovered nervously nearby.
Keifer cleaned the cut carefully.
The sting made me flinch.
His grip tightened slightly — not hurting, just steady.
"Focus on me," he murmured.
I did.
Not the blood.
Not the sting.
Just him.
His jaw slightly tense.
His movements precise.
His eyes occasionally checking my reaction.
"Does it hurt?" he asked quietly.
"No," I lied.
"Yes it does," Aries muttered.
Keifer shot him a look.
Silence again.
He wrapped the bandage carefully around my finger, making sure it wasn't too tight.
"There," he said softly. "Done."
The bleeding had already slowed.
It really was small.
But my reaction wasn't.
He stood up slowly, still watching me.
"You okay?" Aries asked cautiously.
I nodded.
"Yeah."
Keifer didn't look convinced.
"You froze," he said quietly.
"I didn't."
"You did."
I looked away.
"It's just blood," Aries said lightly, trying to normalize it.
My hands clenched slightly.
Keifer noticed.
He stepped closer again.
"Aries," he said calmly. "Give us a minute."
Aries hesitated.
Then nodded and stepped out of the kitchen.
Now it was just us.
The kitchen felt too quiet.
"You don't have to pretend," Keifer said softly.
"I'm not pretending."
"You were shaking."
"It was reflex."
His expression hardened slightly — not angry.
Serious.
"Jay."
"What?"
"If it's about that day—"
"Don't," I interrupted quickly.
Silence.
He didn't push further.
But he didn't step back either.
Instead, he gently took my injured hand again, checking the bandage.
"You don't have to handle everything alone," he said quietly.
"I wasn't alone."
"You were in your head."
That hit.
Because he was right.
I swallowed.
"It's stupid," I muttered.
"It's not."
"It was a small cut."
"And still."
His fingers lightly brushed over my knuckles.
"You don't like losing control," he said softly.
I looked at him.
"And blood reminds you of that."
My chest tightened again.
He didn't ask for details.
He didn't demand answers.
He just stayed.
Close.
Steady.
After a moment, he stepped back slightly.
"Next time," he said calmly, "don't rush."
"You're blaming me?"
"I'm protecting you."
My heart betrayed me again.
"You're dramatic," I whispered.
"And you're careless."
I almost smiled.
Aries peeked into the kitchen. "Can I come back or are you two having a therapy session?"
"Come back," I sighed.
Aries walked in slowly, eyeing my bandaged finger. "You scared me."
"I'm fine."
Keifer's voice cut in smoothly.
"She's not cutting anything else today."
"I can cook—"
"No."
"Keifer—"
"No."
Aries smirked slightly. "He's scary when he's serious."
I rolled my eyes.
But inside—
The storm wasn't outside today.
It was here.
And somehow…
Keifer was the only one who knew how to quiet it.