When I woke up the morning after Abednigo confessed to me—with pens, of all things—the memory almost felt like a fever dream. Except, when I reached over to my study desk, I saw the black Dong-A gel pens neatly stacked in a plastic pouch, proof that last night hadn't been some weird hallucination.
A groan escaped my lips as I buried my face back into the pillow.
"What did I get myself into?"
It wasn't like I was against the idea of dating. Plenty of my friends had boyfriends and they seemed… content. Some were head over heels; others tolerated each other for the sake of not being alone. Me? I never felt the urge. It wasn't because I thought love was pointless—it was because people were messy, fickle, and dishonest.
But Abednigo was different.
Not in the "mysterious bad boy" way cheesy Wattpad stories described. He was quiet, socially awkward, and weirdly sincere in everything he did. Even in the way he had confessed yesterday, his voice trembling but his words painfully genuine. That kind of honesty was rare, and I… respected it. Enough to give him two months.
Two months to figure out what we were. Deadline couple.
I rolled out of bed and went about my morning routine. By the time I put on my Maharlika uniform and tied my hair back, my phone buzzed with a new notification.
Rodriguez: Good morning. Did you sleep well?
I blinked at the screen. A small laugh slipped out of me. He really was straightforward. Most guys would probably try to be smooth, but here he was, sending me a message that looked like something my tita (aunt) would text me.
Me: Morning. I slept fine. How about you?
The reply came instantly.
Rodriguez: Same. Should I wait for you at the jeepney stop later? We can go to school together.
I stared at the message, debating. Normally, I preferred walking alone. It gave me time to observe people—my favorite pastime. But if we were really doing this "couple" thing, then maybe I should allow it.
Me: Sure. Don't be late.
The air outside was already hot even though it was just eight in the morning. Davao mornings had a way of feeling like midday in Manila, the humidity clinging to my skin. At the jeepney stop near our subdivision, I spotted him immediately.
Abednigo Rodriguez was impossible to miss—not because he was flashy, but because he stuck out in his own quiet way. Tall, with neatly pressed uniform and a backpack that looked like it had never known dirt, he stood with both hands tucked behind his back like a schoolboy waiting for inspection.
When his eyes landed on me, his whole expression lit up.
"Good morning, Seira," he said, voice soft but warm.
"Morning," I replied. "You look like you've been standing here for hours."
He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. "Only thirty minutes."
I blinked. "…Rodriguez, that's still a long time."
"I didn't want to risk being late," he admitted, eyes shifting downward. "It would've been rude."
I sighed but couldn't help the small smile tugging at my lips. "You're ridiculous."
The jeepney ride was awkward, to say the least. He insisted on sitting beside me even though there were other seats available. The proximity made me hyperaware of his every movement—the way he fiddled with the zipper of his bag, the way his knee almost brushed mine. He smelled faintly of laundry detergent and ink, which was oddly comforting.
By the time we arrived at the Maharlika University campus, I thought the awkwardness would fade. But it only intensified when we walked across Roxas Avenue together. People stared. Whispers followed us like a trail of smoke.
"Is that Rodriguez?"
"Why's he with Seira?"
"Wait, are they…?"
I bit back the urge to snap at them. Instead, I kept my chin high, pretending not to notice.
Abednigo, on the other hand, seemed blissfully unaware. Or maybe he was just too focused on walking in sync with me. His brows were slightly furrowed in concentration, like matching my pace was a math problem.
Inside the classroom, the rumors spread faster than wildfire. My blockmates were not subtle.
"Seira, did you and Rodriguez just come in together?" asked Lianne, one of my closest friends. Her eyes sparkled with curiosity.
"Yes," I replied simply, setting my bag down.
Her grin widened. "And…?"
"And what?"
"Don't play dumb! Are you two dating?"
The question made the rest of the room go silent. Even Abednigo, who was taking a seat at the back, glanced up at me expectantly.
I crossed my arms, choosing my words carefully. "We're… trying something out. Think of it like a project. Two months."
The class erupted into whispers. Some giggled, others looked confused. Lianne's jaw dropped. "A deadline couple?!"
I shrugged. "You could call it that."
From the corner of my eye, I saw Abednigo smile faintly, as if the label pleased him.
Our first class of the day was Philosophy, and as usual, Abednigo was the first to answer the professor's questions. His hand shot up with every Socratic query, his answers precise yet thoughtful.
"Mr. Rodriguez," Professor Aragon said, "your points are valid, but don't you think you rely too much on logic and not enough on empathy?"
Abednigo hesitated, then glanced in my direction. "Maybe. But I think empathy is something I'm… learning."
The professor raised an eyebrow but nodded. "Fair enough."
I didn't miss the way some of my classmates snickered, whispering things like, "Learning empathy? Is he a robot?" But I found myself oddly touched.
Maybe, just maybe, this experiment wouldn't be so boring.
Lunch was another test of patience. The cafeteria buzzed with energy, the scent of karenderia food and foreign food filling the air. I was halfway through eating when Abednigo set his tray beside mine.
"You didn't have to sit here," I told him, raising an eyebrow.
"I wanted to," he said simply, opening his container of rice and pork kaldereta.
I stared at him for a moment, then sighed. "Suit yourself."
He ate quietly, occasionally sneaking glances at me like he wanted to say something but couldn't find the words. Finally, I broke the silence.
"Rodriguez, why me?"
He froze, spoon mid-air. "…I told you yesterday. I don't know. It just… feels right."
"That's not an answer," I pressed. "You could've picked anyone else. Girls literally throw themselves at you when you ace an exam."
His brows furrowed, and for a moment he looked genuinely troubled. "I know. But they don't… interest me. You do."
Something in his tone made me pause. It wasn't flirty, it wasn't dramatic—it was just raw honesty. My chest tightened, though I quickly brushed it off with a smirk. "You're weird, Rodriguez."
His lips quirked upward. "So I've been told."
The rest of the day passed in a blur of classes, stares, and whispered speculations. By the time the final bell rang, I was exhausted.
As I packed my things, Abednigo approached my desk. "Shall I walk you home?"
I looked at him, raising an eyebrow. "What are you, my bodyguard?"
"Your… boyfriend," he corrected softly, as if testing the word on his tongue.
The honesty in his eyes disarmed me again. I sighed in defeat. "Fine. But don't expect this every day."
His face brightened instantly. "Understood."
We walked out of campus together, the late afternoon sun casting golden light on the streets of Davao. For a moment, with his steady presence beside me, the world felt quieter. Less chaotic.
And though I would never admit it out loud—not yet, anyway—I didn't mind the thought of seeing him again at 5:00 pm.
Deadline couple or not, something told me this was going to be… interesting.