Gabie's POV
I honestly don't know what's going on between us anymore.
Lately, he's been clingier—always looking for me, always hovering—but still just as rude. I can't help but remember what Wednesday, her younger sister, told me the last time their family visited. It wasn't even a big gathering, just a casual hangout at home. I didn't have anything urgent going on, so I got to chat with Wednesday for a bit.
Of course, I was careful not to ask about things I wasn't supposed to know. I never brought up what happened between his older brother and his ex, even if it was obvious there was still some baggage there.
But Wednesday said something that stuck with me.
He told me that because of me, his brother's resentment had started to fade. That his brother talked about me more than I realized. That when they spoke, I always came up in the conversation.
That made me think. Hard.
Because I've noticed things too. The way he teases me when I get quiet. The way he accuses me of being too busy chatting with someone when I'm just scrolling mindlessly or lost in thought. He never believes me when I say I barely use my socials anymore. And when I don't reply to his texts right away? He jumps to conclusions. Gets angry out of nowhere.
Same when I miss his calls—whether I'm in the shower, napping, or just doing something else—he gets all worked up like I'm hiding something from him. Then he shows up at home looking like he's ready to fight someone.
I don't get it. He wasn't like this before.
Or maybe… I just didn't know him well enough yet.
There are times when he's incredibly sweet. But there are also days when it feels like I'm walking on eggshells, not knowing what version of him I'll get. He shifts moods so quickly it's hard to keep up.
Just like now.
"Hey! What's wrong with you?" he suddenly barges into my room, no knock, just that signature attitude of his.
"Huh? Nothing. Why?" I blinked up at him, caught off guard.
"I was wondering. You're usually downstairs watching TV around this time. But now you're up here, locked in your room."
I was just lying on my bed, reading a novel Wednesday recommended. He stared at me for a moment before walking closer.
"Are you bored? Missing someone, maybe?" he asked with a raised brow, already assuming things again.
"No, I'm not bored. And no, I don't miss anyone," I said, holding up my book. "My head's in this story."
"Not even your mom?"
"I thought of Mama earlier, but right now? No. I'm focused on this," I said flatly, not wanting to go down that emotional path.
He just nodded. "Okay. If you say so."
"You're always jumping to conclusions," I muttered under my breath.
"What?"
"Watwatin kita d'yan, eh!" (I'll whack you for that)" I said, half-joking, half-serious.
"Hoy! What's that supposed to mean?" He looked at me in mock offense.
"Also, how many times have I told you not to raise your voice at me? I'm not deaf!"
He laughed and suddenly lay down beside me, resting his head on my thigh like it was the most normal thing in the world.
"Hey, you're getting too comfortable! Don't tell me you're planning to sleep here again?" I tried to sound annoyed, but the truth was… I didn't really mind.
"Hmmm… Can I?"
"I thought you said you were, okay?"
"Not really," he muttered, then started playing with my hand.
"What's not to like about that, huh? Wasn't it you I caught sound asleep in your room last time?"
"Seriously? You were watching me? That's kinda stalker behavior!"
"Shocks! It wasn't stalking—I just checked on you while you were asleep!"
"Why would you do that?"
"I don't know… I just remembered you, so I stopped by before going to bed," I said, trying to sound casual.
"Oh really? That's all?"
"Nothing else, promise."
"I'm not buying it, sweetheart. I know there's another reason you had to check on me," he teased, a knowing smile on his lips.
"Ugh, you act like you know everything!" I shot back.
I honestly don't get this guy sometimes. One moment, he acts like he couldn't care less. The next, he's all flirty and sweet—like now, when he's stroking my arm like that. It's driving me crazy! It's making me crazy! Sometimes I feel like he wants to kiss me… and honestly? If he did, I wouldn't stop him.
"Why are you smiling?" he asked.
"Because you're such a timang!" (crazy) I joked. Of course, I couldn't say what I was really thinking. Let him guess!
"What's 'timang'?"
"Secret!"
"Oh, come on, sweetheart, tell me what it means!"
"Nope!"
"Really? You're not gonna tell me?" he said, leaning in. "Or else…"
"Or else what?"
"I'll kiss you."
"Yikes!" I squealed, clapping my hands over my mouth as I scrambled to circle away from him. He burst into laughter.
But deep inside, I was screaming, "Go on—kiss me already! I wouldn't stop you!" I just kept those thoughts to myself. I'm not that bold!
"So? Are you going to tell me now?" he asked again, clearly enjoying this.
I didn't answer. I kept my hands over my mouth and kept circling him like a dork.
"Still, no?" he pressed. "If you don't want me to kiss you, then tell me what timang means."
My heart skipped when he suddenly got up and sat right in front of me. My eyes widened in surprise, but my hands stayed firmly in place. I must've looked ridiculous, because he laughed even harder.
I glared at him playfully but didn't say a word.
"Oh no, sweetheart! You're not going to win just by giving me those big eyes," he scoffed, which made me glare at him.
"You're so cute," he added, laughing as if I hadn't just shot daggers at him.
"Can you please take your hands off your mouth and talk to me?" he asked gently.
When I didn't budge, he tried to pull my hands away. But I held them tighter against my lips.
"Okay, okay. I won't force you—I don't want to hurt you. But please, talk to me?"
"No," I said quickly, dropping my hands for a second just to answer, then just as fast, I covered my mouth again.
"Hey! Quit covering your mouth!"
"Well, don't try kissing me out of nowhere!" I snapped, still shielding my lips.
"Why are you so scared of a kiss?"
"Just because!"
"'Just because,' huh? God, you're driving me crazy," he groaned in frustration.
"See? That's a sign!"
"A sign of what?" he asked, brows furrowing.
"Nothing."
"Wait—so 'timang' means crazy?"
"You said it, not me! And I am not crazy!" I fired back.
"Never mind."
Since he finally backed off, I decided to lower my hands from my mouth. But then—
"What the hell?!" My eyes widened as I slapped his shoulder. "You are so unbelievable!"
He just kept laughing, obviously proud of the stunt he pulled.
"Give it back! You stole it!" I snapped.
"Give what back?" he asked, looking genuinely confused.
Tears welled up in my eyes from the shock and frustration. This guy really knew how to ruin moments.
"My first kiss!" I cried. "I imagined it would be something romantic, something special. Then you go and just steal it like that? You're the worst!"
"Hey, hey! Why are you so mad? Come on—it was just a smack!"
"Even so! It was my first kiss! You had no right to just take it like that!" I shouted, wiping my eyes in frustration.
His face fell. "Wait—what? That was your first kiss?"
"Yes! That's why it meant something to me. That's why I hate you!"
"Oh my God…" he looked stunned.
"What?"
"So… what exactly were you imagining for your first kiss?"
I looked away, embarrassed. "My friends said it's supposed to be romantic. That's what I've seen in movies, and read in novels too."
He noticed my frown, and guilt washed over his face.
"Wait—so your ex never kissed you?"
"How would he have? Didn't I tell you? We were only together for a few hours before all hell broke loose. It was doomed from the start. Honestly, it's better that way. Turns out, we're blood related."
"Wait, what? That was your first relationship?"
"Yes! Clap for me!"
"Why?"
"Why do you think? It's forbidden, duh! You're so makulit (annoying), stop asking the same thing!"
"No, that's not what I meant." He softened. "I mean… why was he your first? Was it a choice? I'm just saying—you're beautiful. I'm sure a lot of guys in school tried to get close to you."
"I was focused on school and my part-time jobs," I said with a sigh. "My motto's always been 'study first.' I have to keep my grades up so I don't lose my scholarship."
"I get it now," he said with a nod, finally understanding.
I didn't say anything more. I just stared at him, frowning—still upset. Because honestly? I was angry. My first kiss wasn't supposed to be a prank. And now, I'll never get that moment back.
"I'm sorry for stealing your first kiss. Tell me, how can I make it up to you?" he asked seriously. I thought for a moment.
"Give it back!" I said, pouting like a kid who just lost their favorite toy.
"You mean the kiss?" His eyes widened in surprise. I didn't answer, just kept staring at my fingers nervously twisting in my lap.
"Are you sure?" he asked again, making sure I was really focused on him this time.
Slowly, using his index finger, he lifted my chin until I met his gaze. His eyes flicked to my lips, then back up, as if trying to decide if what he was about to do was really okay.
"Close your eyes, sweetheart," he whispered, and somehow his voice wrapped around me like a spell. My heart pounded, and I obeyed without hesitation, though I was stiff with nerves. I could feel his warm breath against my face, and the world seemed to shrink until it was just us.
"Relax, sweetheart," he murmured softly.
I barely had time to wonder what would happen next when our lips finally met. His lips were soft and warm, and he held them gently against mine. I lost count of the seconds as his lips moved slowly, brushing against mine in a rhythm I didn't understand. I wasn't sure what to do, so I gently pushed his chest, making him stop.
"Did you like it?" he asked, eyes hopeful.
I nodded, cheeks burning.
"Ah… eh, hehe… I'm sorry, I don't know what I should do next," I admitted, embarrassed as my eyes locked with his sleepy ones.
"Simple. Just follow my lead. Want to try again?" I was a fool for nodding.
This time, he didn't have to ask me to close my eyes—I shut them the moment his lips touched mine. I tried to copy his movements as best as I could.
"It's amazing! Just like in the books and movies I've read and watched," I said, smiling wide as he pulled back.
"What?" he asked, curious.
"I just realized… that's the feeling—the little flutter in your stomach. No wonder everyone gets so obsessed with these scenes in novels and films."
He laughed, shaking his head. "Timang," he teased, but I knew he wasn't mad.
"So, are we good now? You're not mad at me anymore?" I smiled and nodded.
"Don't you dare kiss any other guys, and don't let anyone else kiss you either," he said, voice firm. Like a lovesick fool, I agreed.
Suddenly, he pulled me into a tight hug.
"Oh, my innocent sweetheart," he whispered, and I heard every word.
"Let's go to sleep. It's getting late," he said.
"I'm not sleepy yet. You go ahead," I replied.
He lay down on my bed but didn't take his eyes off me. I slowly lay beside him, pretending to rest, but really just wanting to memorize his face. There was no way I'd fall asleep just yet.
***
The days passed quickly, and August grew more affectionate and possessive. Even Wednesday noticed something was different about her older brother.
"Weds asked what time we're leaving tomorrow," I told August one morning as we ate breakfast.
"She said she'll come with you because she's too lazy to drive to Laguna alone," I added.
"I'm not going home. I have other plans tomorrow. By the way, pack your things for two days. Grandpa and Grandma already know about the plan," he said without looking up from his food.
I frowned, confused. Weds didn't tell me why we needed to go home, and when I asked him, he just said I'd find out on my own. That was so frustrating.
"I have to go. Don't forget to lock the doors. Keep your phone close—I'll call you later," he said, standing up. Before he left, he kissed my forehead like it was the most normal thing in the world.
But inside me, there was an odd electricity—something strange and new. I was afraid to ask too many questions, worried it might change how he treated me. Because right now, the way he looked after me, cared for me—it meant everything.
I'll admit, I couldn't stop liking him because of what he was doing to me. If he could, I'm sure he'd consider me his wife. But I know that's not true—he's still carrying trauma from his previous relationship, something he's trying hard to forget. So, it's unlikely he feels the same way about me. Maybe he cares about me like Wednesday, his sister, does—through appreciation and care, rather than kisses.
Speaking of kisses, I don't know why it feels so natural for us to do those things when it's just the two of us at home. I find myself craving his presence—and his kisses—especially when work keeps him away.
But every time Weds asks me what's going on between August and me, I can't answer. Because honestly, I don't know what we have. I always want to ask him, but my tongue gets tied, afraid that if we talk, everything between us will change. Like I'm the only one hoping for something more.
Now, I just feel it all swirling inside me, unable to name what we have—or if we even have something at all. I only hope it's not too late to figure it out, because I'm not ready for what might come after.
I don't understand why suddenly my life revolves around trying to fix my messy past and dealing with the people who caused me so much pain.
***
That night, August came home just in time. He had a lot of things with him, and I didn't even ask what they were for. He called me several times during the day just to say hello and ask if I had eaten. Like before, he kissed my forehead when he greeted me, then hugged me tighter than usual. He whispered something I couldn't quite catch, as if the words were caught in his throat.
I served dinner, and we ate together in silence. He kept staring at me, like he wanted to say something but wasn't sure how. I broke the quiet.
"What's on your mind? I know when you're like this, you want to say something," I said.
"Nothing. I just wanted to look at your beautiful face," he answered without hesitation.
"You and Wednesday are siblings. You like to flatter her too, don't you?" I teased.
"Yes, she's, my sister. I don't know how to make 'bola' (flatter) —I'm just stating facts, sweetheart," he said confidently.
"You! Maybe I'll take what you said seriously and believe you. Then you won't catch me when I fall! That's another one of your endearments. You make me feel things," I said, surprised at how much I'd let slip.
"I already found you. So, get used to it. Don't worry, sweetheart, I'm here to catch you. No matter what happens, I've got your back," he said softly.
"Huh?"
"Huh?" he mimicked me playfully. I grabbed a handful of food, stood up, and walked to the sink, nervous and unsure how to handle what he'd just said. I was afraid to hope—afraid that I was the only one thinking this way.
Then I heard him stand up. Soon, he was behind me.
"Why? Is something wrong?" he whispered close to my ear, making my heart race. His breath tickled my skin, and I felt a mix of frustration and affection.
"It's not good to joke like that! That's why I get annoyed with you. You know you shouldn't say those things," I snapped, raising my voice.
"Do you really think I was joking?" He suddenly grabbed my shoulders and turned me to face him.
"Fuck! This wasn't supposed to happen today. I planned to tell you tomorrow, but I don't want you mad at me, so I'll say it now," he confessed.
I didn't touch him—I was afraid I might say something harsh. I knew some words could never be taken back, no matter how many apologies followed. Instead, I told him I was angry because his "jokes" weren't funny.
"Hey! I'm serious. For the record, I like you a lot. I don't know when it started or how, just that I can't go a day without thinking about you. The best thing is, I can finally sleep comfortably with you beside me—something I haven't felt in a long time before you came into my life. You've changed how I see women and relationships. Because of you, I wake up happy and content. But that's different from the happiness I have for my grandparents and my sister Wednesday. I hope you believe me. This isn't easy for me to say—I've been preparing for days to tell you. I even planned to do it over dinner tomorrow, but since things happened today, I'm taking the chance. I don't care if this place isn't romantic—as long as I'm honest with you, and with my feelings. You don't have to answer now. No pressure. What matters is I've cleared the air between us."