The evening was quiet in the mansion, the golden light of the lamps casting a soft glow across the living room.
Keifer had sprawled lazily across the sofa, resting his head on Jay's thigh, curling into a comfortable position. It was a small, familiar comfort—something he often did, and Jay had long grown used to. His fingers traced slow, lazy circles on her leg, a gesture that had become their quiet routine, soothing and intimate without needing words.
Jay, sitting nearby with a book, watched him for a moment, a soft smile tugging at her lips. His presence was grounding, warm, and completely familiar.
Without thinking too much, she leaned down and pressed her lips gently to his temple—a soft, unexpected kiss.
Keifer froze for a heartbeat, then turned his gaze to her, a small, delighted smirk forming.
"You're getting bold," he whispered, amusement in his tone more than reproach.
Jay shrugged, her cheeks warming slightly.
"I know… but you're always here, always curling up like this. I thought… why not?"
Keifer chuckled softly, shifting slightly so her hand could rest comfortably in his.
"Why not, indeed," he murmured.
The soft hum of the mansion, the gentle warmth of the living room, and the closeness between them created a moment that felt suspended in time.
Jay rested there, fingers lightly brushing his, heart quietly fluttering.
Keifer leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her hand.
"You're mine," he whispered, a promise wrapped in comfort and ease.
Jay smiled, closing her eyes, letting the familiar warmth of their bond wash over her.
In that golden-lit evening, nothing else existed.
Just Jay, Keifer, and the quiet intimacy that had become their untouchable, everyday rhythm.