Gabie's POV
We arrived at their ancestral house late at night, but the place was still lit up, as if it had been waiting for us. From the outside, it looked like a typical Filipino two-storey ancestral home—concrete walls, big windows, and a wide garden that stretched all the way from the gate to the house.
It was hard to see everything clearly in the dark. There were some side lights scattered along the path, but they weren't enough to show the full expanse of the area. From what I could make out, the house stood grandly about five hundred meters from the gate, like something out of an old movie. The double doors were made of heavy wood, beautifully aged, with intricate carvings that spoke of history and care. The whole place carried the quiet elegance of the Spanish era.
"Let's go," he said, snapping me out of my daze.
He stepped out first and opened the trunk, revealing plastic bags I didn't know he had. I reached into the backseat to grab our overnight bags, figuring I should help since his hands were full.
I hadn't realized he'd gone to the grocery store earlier—I thought he was just working late.
"The luck of the girl who'll end up as this guy's girlfriend," I mused. Thoughtful, caring, gentle with his grandparents… responsible, too. If only he weren't so damn annoying sometimes.
"Hey! Quit checking me out," he suddenly said, flashing that smug grin.
"You're so full of yourself! I'm just waiting for you to finish so we can go in. Of course I won't go ahead—it's not my house, and I just got here!" I shot back with a glare.
"You're really cute when you're annoyed," he teased, laughing under his breath.
"I'm not cute! I'm not a baby!" I huffed. He raised his hands in mock surrender and chuckled again.
"Chill! I won't fight back."
"You're so annoyingly irresistible, I swear. You make me want to scream and squeeze something!" I muttered under my breath, following him as he carried the grocery bags while I trailed behind with our luggage.
"Grandpa! Grandma! We're here!" he called out as he pushed open the door.
Footsteps echoed from inside, and soon an elderly woman appeared, graceful despite her age. Her beauty hadn't faded—fair skin, soft wrinkles, sharp nose, and shoulder-length curls. Her eyes gleamed with warmth, her features refined and delicate. She looked like a cross between Gloria Romero and an old Hollywood star.
"My grandchild!" she cried out, rushing toward August. He dropped everything and hugged her tightly, right there on the polished wooden floor.
It was such a tender moment, the kind I'd never experienced myself. I couldn't remember the last time I saw a grandparent—because I never had any. I stayed quiet, letting them have that moment.
Then came a loud sneeze.
"Eight! My grandson!" an older male voice boomed.
"Grandpa!" August called out, letting go of his grandma and hurrying to embrace the tall, dignified man who had appeared in the hallway.
"Whoa," I thought, taking in his grandfather's presence. "Even in his old age, he's still dashing. Honestly, I think he's even more handsome than August. Eddie Gutierrez levels! Strong features, straight nose, and this aura that says, "I ran this town back in the day."
"So that's where jerk gets it. It runs in the genes—good looks and that annoying charm. Too bad his sarcasm kills his good-looking points. So, for me? Sorry, pass! Big X. But he is such a loving grandson, I'll give him that. Mr. Exemplary Grandson, super big check! I chuckled to myself.
Thankfully, they were too busy hugging and catching up to notice me lurking awkwardly by the door.
"Oh shoot—my bad!" August finally said, turning to me. "I forgot to introduce you. Grandpa, Grandma, this is Gabie."
"Good evening po," I said shyly, stepping forward.
His grandfather smiled at me kindly. "Still beautiful even at night, hija," he said with a wink.
I blushed and approached him to offer 'mano'(the act of pagmamano, a traditional gesture of respect and seeking a blessing from elders. It involves bowing to an elder and touching their hand with the forehead, often accompanied by the phrase "mano po"), as we do in Filipino tradition.
"Good evening to you too, hija," his grandmother said, and I greeted her with a respectful smile and kissed her cheek.
"Welcome to our little home," she added warmly.
"Little?!" I almost blurted out. "If this is little, then our house back in the city is a freakin' matchbox." But I stopped myself and just smiled politely, matching their warmth.
They didn't stop with greetings. His grandparents also asked if August had treated me well on the trip, and even joked that I needed extra patience with his mood swings.
So, it's not just me. He really is naturally rude.
***
We brought the snacks to the kitchen, where the conversation continued over tea. Honestly, I'm not really into tea. But refusing it felt just as awkward as admitting I'm not very artistic. Which I'm not—I'm just not used to sipping warm leaves in water, okay?
Thankfully, before I dozed off in the middle of their catch-up, they told us we could rest. The helpers who earlier took August's groceries mysteriously vanished after we were served tea.
"Let's go. I'll show you your room," he said.
I followed him upstairs. The staircase and second floor were all solid wood, but polished so well you could probably see your reflection.
"Here's your room," he said, opening the door. My bag was already placed on the bed.
"If you need anything, don't hesitate to call me. My room's just next door, okay?"
He pointed toward the bathroom. "You can use that anytime. Sleep well. I'll see you in the morning, alright?"
I just nodded, too sleepy to speak.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
"Yeah, just a little sleepy," I mumbled.
"Don't mention it. I hope you enjoy your stay. Good night, sweetheart."
Before I could react, he shut the door.
"Sweetheart again?! What if his girlfriend hears that? Ugh! Does he even think about how this might look?" It's like he wants me to get in trouble with the universe just for knowing him. He already knows my life's a mess—and now this? "Can I slap him with a spoon? Or should I cry instead? What is happening to me? I wasn't like this before... Have I changed? Is it the meds they gave me at the hospital? Why am I wide awake when I was just about to pass out from sleepiness?"
"And why am I thinking about him?"
His scent. His annoying face. His accent when he suddenly shifts to English. Miggy doesn't even do that as often. Are they the same height? "How is Miggy? Has he been, okay? Why does he keep popping into my thoughts like a pop-up ad with no "close" button?"
I just want to sleep!
I don't even know how long I lay there, eyes glued to the ceiling, tossing thoughts around like a spin cycle. Eventually, I drifted off—until someone gently shook my shoulder.
"Wake up, sleepyhead," August said softly.
I buried my face in the blanket, mortified. I probably have morning breath.
"You're right on time," he said. "I just wanted to wake you so we can eat breakfast together. Grandpa and Grandma went to church for morning mass, so it's just the two of us."
"Okay, I'll freshen up and brush my teeth first. I'll follow downstairs," I muttered.
"Hurry. We're heading out after breakfast."
He left, and I rushed to the bathroom. A quick shower, brushed teeth, clean shirt—I was ready to go.
When I reached the dining table, he hadn't started eating. "Wow, he waited for me?"
"What took you so long?" he grumbled.
"And there it is—morning grumpy mode on."
"I just took a shower so I'd be ready for whatever plans you have. It wasn't even that long!" I huffed.
"Whatever," he muttered.
"Grumpy much! Hmp!" I kept the rest in my head to avoid a round two.
We ate quietly. I ended up eating more than usual because the food was that good. It's like a feast—there's so much food.
"Done?" he asked after a while.
"Yup."
"Let's go."
I trailed behind him like a confused puppy. I didn't want to ask where we were going. What if he snaps again? Arguing with him is getting tiring too.
Still, I couldn't help but feel grateful. Despite everything, he helped us. That's why I couldn't really complain. Not out loud, at least.
***
Walking here felt so good. The breeze was cool against my skin, and the scent of the trees, grass, and soil—it was calming in a way I didn't expect. They say when you're surrounded by nature, it helps release stress. Something about clean air, silence, and green spaces resets your body. So, I tried it. I closed my eyes and let the wind touch my face.
They said this helps. That if you just breathe it in, it recharges you.
Then—
"Ouch!"
My forehead slammed into something hard and rough. A tree. I groaned and clutched my face, stepping back in embarrassment.
"Who told you to walk with your eyes closed?" a sharp voice asked. His tone was more annoyed than concerned.
I peeked at him, already defensive. "W-Wait! I was just trying to feel the fresh air! Are you still mad at me or something?" I said, raising an eyebrow.
"You're unbelievable," he muttered under his breath, shaking his head.
I crossed my arms. "Unbelievable? You know what? They say this is good for your health! I was just trying to enjoy this place—close your eyes, feel the air, take in the scent of the plants—it helps you recharge, okay?"
He stared at me for a moment before sighing. "Fine. But next time, try not to injure yourself while 'recharging'. You're lucky it was just a tree."
I pouted. "You're acting like I broke my skull."
Without warning, he brushed a few strands of my hair aside and gently inspected my forehead.
"Does it still hurt?" he asked, voice softer this time.
"Not really. Why?"
"There's a red mark. It'll go down. Just put a cold compress on it later when we get home."
I gave a small laugh. "It's fine. That's nothing compared to the time I got hit in the chest by a bullet. And look—I'm still alive."
He blinked. "Seriously?"
I smirked. "So don't treat me like glass. Besides, I should be the one annoyed—you distracted me from recharging!"
He rolled his eyes. "Fine, fine. Just try not to bump into any more trees. We're almost at my favorite spot."
"Ooh, your favorite spot? Alright, lead the way."
We walked in silence for a while, my forehead still faintly throbbing, but I didn't really mind. A few more minutes passed, and then we arrived.
Before me was a waterfall—not massive, but not small either. Just the right size to be stunning. The water cascaded down over smooth rocks into a shallow pool that looked so clean and clear I could see the pebbles beneath it. The sound of water, the crisp air, the surrounding greenery—it was peaceful and beautiful. Like something out of a postcard.
"Wow… this is amazing." I whispered.
He grinned, proud. "I know, right?"
I turned to him. "You could've told me we were going to a place like this! I would've brought clothes so I could swim!"
"Not so fast, sweetheart," he teased. "We're coming back here tomorrow. We'll bring food, maybe even stay longer. But for now, remember—it's Grandpa's birthday today. We're here to celebrate his special day. Later, my sister will arrive. I'll introduce you to her. She's been asking about you non-stop—such a nosy one."
I laughed. "She's probably just curious."
We stayed by the waterfall for about an hour, just soaking in the peace. But eventually, we had to go. He said the others were back from church, and we needed to help with the preparations.
As we walked back, I noticed how different everything felt. Earlier, it was so quiet. Almost no one was around. But now, the place was bustling. I felt my nerves spike a little. I didn't want to run into too many people.
Instead of mingling, I went straight to the kitchen to help. Less chance of being recognized that way. After all, I knew my face had been posted on Jhay's and Mama's social media pages—August told me. And I believed him. He was always online, always seeing everything.
He was busy helping too, so we barely had time to talk. And maybe that was a good thing. I liked this—just moving, doing something, keeping busy.
At least for now, I felt happy. And when we get back to Manila, I'll return to my usual routine—whatever that means these days. But until then… I'll enjoy this moment.
***
His sister arrived just before lunch.
There was no need to ask if they were related—they looked so much alike they could easily pass for twins. Still, it was clear August was the older one.
"You're amazing, sis. You can handle my brother's mood swings?" she teased, laughing as she raised her hand for a high five.
I grinned. "It's not that bad. He just gets grumpy sometimes."
We both laughed, and I instantly felt comfortable around her. August's sister was more outgoing and expressive than him—lighter, more playful.
"That's why I chose to live in a dorm," she said. "My older brother's drama is exhausting."
"Maybe that's just how older siblings are," I joked.
She leaned a little closer, like she was about to share a secret. "You know, I think she still hasn't moved on from his ex. That's why he's always so grumpy."
"Huh? Really?" I blinked in surprise.
"Of course she wouldn't tell you himself," she said, shaking her head. "But they were together for a long time—six years. We all thought they were endgame. Then out of nowhere, they broke up. Turns out, she had someone else. It was rough. But I guess that just proves being together for a long time doesn't mean you're guaranteed forever, right?"
I was still processing everything when I asked, "But wait—you speak Tagalog so fluently, but your brother struggles with it. Didn't you grow up together?"
"I was younger when we were brought here to the Philippines," she explained. "I never really went back. But my brother still flies to the States every year for our parents' death anniversary. We still have a house there—he refuses to sell it so he has somewhere to stay when he visits. Most of his friends are there, too, so I guess that's why he's more used to English."
She paused, her voice dropping slightly. "Back in school, I used to get bullied a lot. Just like my brother, I spoke more English than Tagalog. So, I worked hard to get better—just so they'd stop making fun of me."
I felt a quiet ache in my chest. "I'm sorry… that must've been really hard."
She smiled and waved it off. "It's okay, sis. That was a long time ago. I'm in pre-med now—doing okay. And honestly, it's great that you and big bro get along. You guys were so funny few months ago, with you hopping into his car out of nowhere."
I laughed. "I didn't think he'd tell you about that in detail. He's usually so reserved."
"We're just used to being open with each other," she said. "He probably told me just in case I came home and misread the situation with you here."
"Well, I'm glad he made it clear," I said. "To be honest, I was too nervous to bring it up. I didn't know if he had a girlfriend—and I was scared she'd come barging in while he was away and make a scene. So, when you said they'd broken up, I felt relieved."
"She has no right to be mad anymore," her sister muttered. "It's been over a year. She has no say in who he lives with now."
We spent the afternoon chatting—about school, life, random things. Before heading back to Manila, she promised to visit their house there sometime so we could hang out again. We exchanged phone numbers before she left, and I was genuinely glad. She was so easy to talk to.
When she left, I went upstairs. There wasn't much reason to stay downstairs—the old couple was busy entertaining guests, and August was drinking with some friends. I didn't want to mingle. I was still trying to keep a low profile, just in case someone recognized me.
So, I stayed in the guest room. The breeze coming through the window was cool and calming, and I didn't even need the fan. I lay down for a bit, just to rest my eyes.
Next thing I knew, I had fallen asleep.