"But seriously, why do you hurt yourself?" His voice held a careful mix of concern and quiet frustration.
I shrugged, letting out a soft laugh that didn't reach my eyes. "It's become my coping mechanism," I said, trying to keep my tone light, even though the weight behind the words tugged at me.
He reached out and flicked my forehead gently. "That's not a coping mechanism. Don't do this again. If you think you deserve punishment, just ask me."
I pouted, unable to hide a small smile. "You wouldn't punish me anyway."
"Whatever. Finish your food," he said, his tone softening as he glanced at the plate before us.
I shifted the subject quickly. "I'll look for work."
His eyes widened in surprise. "Why? Your parents won't support your studies anymore?"
A lump formed in my throat. I nodded, barely meeting his gaze. "Yes. And they're spreading rumors—saying I'm disobedient, stubborn… a no-good daughter."
He sat beside me, his expression softening with quiet sympathy. "Can you work?"
I nodded again, swallowing the sting in my throat. "I'll try."
His hand found mine, his touch gentle and reassuring. "If you can't find anything, I'll give you a job."
I pulled my hand away playfully. "You don't want me working anyway."
He chuckled, the sound warm and knowing. "Hehe, you've caught me."
We fell into a comfortable silence for a breath. "So, you're alone today?" he asked.
I smiled, feeling the warmth in his presence. "No, I'm with you. That means I'm not alone."
He stood, stretching lazily. "What do you want to do today, Miss Angelica?"
I pushed myself up, feeling a wave of weakness in my limbs. "I'm still feeling weak… I'm not sure I can do much."
His eyes darkened with concern, but then a smile tugged at his lips. "How about we watch some anime?"
Excitement bubbled up inside me, unbidden. I spun around, jumping three times.
"Hey, you're excited!" he laughed.
"How did you know?" I asked, tilting my head, curious.
"You spin around and jump three times when you're happy or excited," he said confidently.
"You noticed?" My cheeks warmed.
"More than ten times since we met. Always before something fun or when you get something you really like."
I touched my cheeks, ears, and the nape of my neck, feeling a flush rise. "You're quite the observer."
"That goes without saying," he said with a grin. "I'm your suitor. I should know these things."
He paused, then went on, "And by observing, I've learned some things… your favorite color is purple, even though you insist it's black. You're most afraid of snakes. You claim to hate fish, but you're just too lazy to pick out the bones. You love adobo more than anything. Red velvet and yema cakes are your weakness. You can't resist strawberry ice cream or any milk chocolate. And you always dip bread or biscuits in your drinks."
I laughed, the sound light and free. "That's all about food!"
"We both love food," he said, smiling wide.
"I don't love food. It's just… when I'm with you, I'm myself. I do things I wouldn't do with others," I said softly.
He scoffed playfully. "That's just another way of saying you love food."
I shook my head. "No. I love eating with you. With anyone else, I barely eat. There's a difference."
He smiled like an idiot, his face coloring a slow red. I quickly changed the subject before he got too flustered. "So, what are we watching?"
Suddenly, he said with unexpected sincerity, "Angelica, I really like you."
I responded reflexively, "Yes, yes," but then a sudden pang hit me—the name. Angelica. My name. The one I hated, the one that always came with scolding.
"Why are you calling me Angelica? Didn't I tell you I hate my name?" I asked, voice barely above a whisper.
He looked caught off guard, blinking. "I've been calling you Angelica for almost a year now, and you just noticed?"
"Well, uhm… why?" I avoided looking directly at him.
"I want you to love your name," he said sincerely, voice soft and steady, "because it's as beautiful as you are. And I want you to remember me saying your name—not your family—so it doesn't bring pain."
My heart melted at his words. My cheeks warmed again, and I quickly looked away, unable to fully express the feelings swirling inside me. Without realizing it, I found myself leaning just a little closer, craving the comfort his presence offered.
"That's why I want you to hear your name spoken gently," he added quietly. "So it can mean something good… something safe."
I swallowed, nodding slowly. For once, the name Angelica didn't feel like a weight; it felt like a promise.
We settled back down, the afternoon light softening as it slipped through the curtains. The distant hum of a city going about its day was a comforting soundtrack to our quiet moment.
As the anime played on, I found myself lost in the story, but more so in the comfort beside me. He reached over, nudging me playfully, breaking the spell. "You're really quiet. Are you okay?"
I smiled, a real smile this time. "I am. It's just… being with you feels like a tiny light in the dark."
He looked at me, eyes gentle and earnest. "Then I'll be your light, Angelica. Whenever you need it."
He stretched and said, "How about we paint now? I want to try capturing this feeling on canvas."
I nodded eagerly. "I'm in. But fair warning: I'm no artist. Expect lots of abstract disasters."
As he dipped his brush into blue, he teased, "Are you making a masterpiece or just experimenting with chaos?"
I grinned, "Definitely perfect chaos. But only if you don't splatter paint on my t-shirt"
"Deal," he laughed, flicking a little paint near me. I caught it with mock horror, and we both burst out laughing.
After cleaning up, he grabbed the game controller. "Ready to lose?"
I raised an eyebrow, "In your dreams. Prepare to be schooled."
"Big words for someone who hasn't beaten me yet."
The screen lit up as our friendly battle began, punctuated by playful banter and occasional triumphant cheers.
When we finally called a truce, the aroma of warm cookies filled the room. We sang along quietly to Conan Gray's songs, flour dusting our noses as we baked.
"Tell all of your friends that I'm crazy and drive you mad" I sang off-key, earning a playful nudge.
"Maybe stick to baking?," he joked, flipping a cookie with a grin.
Our laughter mixed with music, wrapping the evening in a soft, comforting glow.
Night crept in, stars twinkling faintly outside the window. Time slipped away unnoticed as we painted, played video games, and baked a batch of warm, fragrant cookies. The softness of the evening wrapped around us like a blanket.
When the room finally grew dark, I said, "I don't want to go home."
He gave a small nod, understanding. "Then don't." His voice was low but firm. "They didn't care about you for a week… letting you go hungry. They won't notice if you stay a little longer. Stay here. Just until your brother and his wife leave."
A flicker of worry crossed my face. "But—"
He gently cut me off. "You can use my room. I'll sleep in my parents' room. Don't worry, nothing stupid will happen."
I let out a relieved breath. "Thank you. But I'm scared, too… I've never been away from home. I've always obeyed everything my family said. And I'm afraid they'll hate me for it."
He looked at me with fierce protectiveness shining in his eyes. "Say no more. They betrayed you. I hate them more than you hate them. I won't forgive them for hurting you."
My lips pressed into a thin line, but I reminded him quietly, "I'm not your girlfriend yet."
"That doesn't matter," he countered softly. "Whether you're my girlfriend or not, no one should ever hurt you—emotionally or physically."
I nodded, feeling a bittersweet mixture of gratitude and sadness. As I curled under the soft blanket in his room, the steady rhythm of his presence beside me was the most soothing balm my heart had known in a long time.
"Get some rest," he said, opening the door and gesturing me inside. "We'll figure things out in the morning."
"Thank you," I whispered, a lump forming in my throat.
He smiled gently, leaning in close, voice barely above a whisper. "Goodnight, Angelica."
My heart skipped, the way he said my name filled with warmth and promise.
"Goodnight." I replied, letting the scent and warmth lull me as my eyelids grew heavy.
The world softened around me as I drifted into sleep, cradled by the scent of him.