CHAPTER 20: I KNOW YOU STILL WANT ME

CHAPTER 20: I KNOW YOU STILL WANT ME
The moment I opened my eyes, I immediately sat up, looking around to see where he was.

It was weird how he was the very first thought that came to me.

I searched the whole house, room after room, only to finally spot him outside. He was sitting on the bench and his shoulders were relaxed, as if he was lost in some deep thought.

"What could he be thinking?" I whispered that question to myself.

Why did he call me childish the last time I went out for some fresh air, when he himself seemed to enjoy it like this?

“Childish, huh,” I whispered agai and released a soft chuckle.

Instead of walking straight to him, I stayed where I was, leaning against the doorway with my arms crossed. From there, I just watched him quietly.

He looked good. He always did, no matter what.

He was wearing gray pants again like gray had been his favorite color for a long time. Maybe it was the shade he chose whenever black wasn’t available and white didn’t feel right. His hair was a little messy, like he had just woken up a few minutes before me. A plain black t-shirt, his usual wristwatch, and his calm, careless aura.

He looked so effortlessly good in that simple outfit. Everything suited him without him even trying.

I felt a smile drawn in my lips at the thought.

But then my eyes fell on the bandage still wrapped around him. 

Maybe it still hurt. 

And as much as I wanted to ask where he had gone, I knew I couldn’t. He would only refuse to answer or worse, shut me out again.

I realized I couldn’t just stand there forever. If I wanted to stay close, I had to gather my courage and walk to him.

I hadn’t spoken yet, but he already glanced at me as if he knew I was there all along. He always did.

“I can’t teach you now… sorry.” His voice was low as he bowed his head, then lifted his eyes to me only to look away again.

This time, it wasn’t the voice of someone trying to shut me out. It was the voice of someone who wanted me to stay.

“Can I sit?” I asked, pointing at the empty space beside him.

He gave me a look.

“I know you’ll still sit even if I say no… right?”

“No,” I answered quickly.

That made him chuckle before he shook his head.

“Are you hungry?” he asked out of nowhere.

I blinked. It surprised me because it was the very first time he had asked me that. Usually, it was me asking him.

“What? Aren’t you hungry?” he asked again, this time meeting my eyes.

But I looked away. If I met his gaze now, I knew he would avoid me again.

“Only if you let me cook for you,” I said softly. Then I looked at him. And just as I expected, he turned his eyes away.

He chuckled, shaking his head.

“Whaaaaaat?” I dragged the word like a child, making him laugh again before he let out a deep breath.

He was smiling. My chest warmed at the sight. It had been so long since I last saw him smile like that.

“You can’t even tie an apron. And now, you’re saying you’ll cook?” he teased.

“I can watch video tutorials,” I shot back. “I’m a fast learner.”

Without giving him time to answer, I stood up and reached for his hand—the one without bruises. I did that on purpose just to ake an excuse to hold his hand.

He gave me a confused look, but I only smiled and lead him toward the kitchen.

This time, I made him sit, just like he always did for me whenever he was the one cooking.

I opened my phone and played a cooking tutorial. The steps were fast and the words a little hard to follow, but I tried to keep up. Every now and then, he leaned closer and pointed something out, but I shook my head and did it on my own. I wanted to prove I could.

It was going well, until I started frying. The hot oil jumped at my skin.

“Ouch!” I cried.

He moved quickly, panicking, and caught my hand. His touch was careful. He lifted it closer and blew cool air against it.

My breath hitched. My eyes stayed on him, on the way his brow furrowed in worry, on the softness of his lips as he exhaled against my skin.

“I told you to be careful,” he said.

When his eyes met mine, the air between us shifted. Silence wrapped around us and I couldn’t look away even if I wanted to.

My eyes slipped down to his lips before I could stop myself, while his eyes stayed locked with mine, and the space between us felt smaller.

My heart pounded so loudly it drowned out everything else.

Kiss him, Reina.

The thought echoed in my head, reckless and desperate.

And without a word, I leaned in and kissed him, closing my eyes. I did not care if he would not respond.

He froze for a few seconds, but then his lips moved with mine. We both closed our eyes, kissing gently, then deeper, with passion, like we had been longing for this moment all along.

With one hand, he reached behind and turned off the stove, though his lips never left mine. He cupped my cheeks, holding me close, as if he was afraid to let me go. 

Still kissing, he lifted me, and before I realized it, we were already in his room—the very first place we could reach, the place where we gave in to our hunger.

In that room, we fed each other. We touched and explored each other as if every breath, every piece of strength, had to be spent here. Nothing was left unspoken between our bodies.

Now bare against him, I felt his lips trail from mine, to my neck, to my chest, down to my stomach, to my thigh, and lower. Making sure to explore every part of me.

“Jake,” I whispered his name, full of desire and trembling with need.

He did not answer. He only kept going, and every touch made me lose myself more.

I don't even know where to hold. The mattress wasn't strong enough.

Even with the bruises in his body, he had not changed at all. He was still as good as the last time.

When his eyes met mine, they burned with hunger. He was about to enter me, and I pleaded softly, “G-gentle.”

“I can’t promise that,” he whispered with a small and crooked smile.

The moment he pushed inside, a cry escaped my lips. It had been a long time—though only days had passed.

He moved faster and deeper, as if there was no tomorrow. 

When it was over, both of us lay weak on his bed, our strength were completely gone and our breaths were heavy in the silence.

“What time is it?” he asked while catching his breath.

“You have a wristwatch, Jake,” I mumbled, too tired to even open my eyes. All I wanted was sleep.

He chuckled softly, then brushed a kiss on my forehead. “I’ll finish what you were cooking. Rest for a while. I know I made you tired.”

I let my eyes close, and the weight of sleep pulled me under.

The moment I opened my eyes, I noticed the food neatly placed on the table. Beside it was a folded pair of clothes, including my underwear and bra. But the room was empty. Jake was not there.

I smiled to myself because of satisfaction.

I hurried to eat the food, finishing it quickly, and then slipped into the clothes he had prepared for me. 

“Jake?” I called out as I stepped outside the room. There was no reply.

“Jake!” I tried again, a little louder. Still no answer.

A faint worry started to rise inside me. My chest tightened as I searched for him, but the house was quiet. Then my eyes caught sight of him at the gate.

He was standing there, talking to a woman.

I froze. She was not the sister I had met before, nor did she look like family at all. She was someone else. 

And just like that, my smile faded. My heart sank. I could not hear what they were saying, but I could see how close they stood. My stomach twisted, and I wished I had not seen them at all.