JayJay POV
We finally made dinner.
After all the makeout scenes I'm still blushing from.
After the garlic-on-the-floor emotional sabotage.
After the tomato that may or may not still be under the fridge.
We made garlic bread and pasta.
And somehow?
It turned out edible.
Keifer grated cheese like he was auditioning for a cooking show.
I stirred the sauce like I was trying to forget the way he kissed me against the counter.
We ate on the floor.
Mismatched forks.
Too much parmesan.
Too many glances.
He kept looking at me like I was the plot twist he didn't see coming.
I kept pretending not to notice.
Until he said, "You look good in my hoodie."
I blinked.
Then said, "You look good when you're not burning things."
He grinned.
I smiled.
Because this?
This was soft.
This was new.
This was ours.
After dinner, we made popcorn.
Curled up on the couch.
Blanket over our legs.
Emotional chaos tucked between us.
I picked the scariest horror movie I could find.
Keifer raised an eyebrow. "You hate horror."
"I don't hate it," I lied.
"You screamed during the trailer."
"I was yawning aggressively."
He smirked.
I threw a pillow at him.
The movie started.
It was quiet.
Too quiet.
A girl walking alone.
A shadow behind her.
I shifted.
Keifer noticed.
"Scared already?" he whispered.
"No," I said, voice cracking like my dignity.
He grinned.
I glared.
Then the first jump scare hit.
I screamed.
Loud.
Like, the neighbors are filing a noise complaint loud.
Keifer choked on popcorn.
I punched his arm.
"Don't laugh," I hissed.
"You screamed like you were being exorcised."
"I was startled."
"You levitated."
I shoved him.
He pulled me closer.
I didn't resist.
Because the room was dark.
Because the movie was evil.
Because his shoulder was warm and I was emotionally compromised.
Another scare.
I flinched.
He didn't tease me this time.
Just whispered, "You're safe."
I blinked.
Then buried my face in his hoodie.
He kissed the top of my head.
I pretended not to melt.
The popcorn spilled.
The blanket tangled.
The movie got worse.
I got louder.
Keifer got smugger.
And when the final scare hit and I screamed so hard I knocked the bowl off the couch, he just laughed and said—
"You're terrifying."
I looked up.
Eyes wild.
Hair a mess.
Heart in my throat.
"You're banned from picking movies."
He smiled.
"I'm banned from cooking. You're banned from horror. We're a disaster."
I kissed him.
Because he was right.
Because I was scared.
Because I was in love.
And this?
This was ours.