Scented Claudia

Raphael blinked groggily as he pushed himself up on the bed, looking like he couldn't quite figure out where he was.

He rubbed a hand over his face, hair sticking out messily in all directions.

I couldn't help smirking as i stretched, savoring how slow the morning felt.

"You're awake," I said, deliberately casual.

He squinted at me, voice low and rough. "How long was i out?"

I pretended to think. "Long enough for me to get bored watching you."

He shot me a glare. "Very funny."

I lifted a brow. "You slept well though."

He frowned, checking his phone. His eyes widened a little.

"…That can't be right," he muttered.

"What?" I asked, tilting my head.

He glanced at me, looking vaguely rattled.

"I don't usually… sleep that long," he said quietly.

"Yeah?" I teased. "Well, you were practically comatose. I even checked if you were breathing."

He glared harder, but there was something else in his eyes.

Confusion.

Wonder.

And maybe something that made my own heart stutter for a second.

He turned away and shook his head.

"Whatever. Don't act like you care."

I rolled my eyes. "Please. I'm not your nurse."

But i watched him out of the corner of my eye, noticing the faintest smile he tried to hide.

-

A few weeks later, we packed up to leave California.

We'd had our share of photos, sunsets on the beach, polite family dinners, and tense silences we pretended weren't there.

But life was waiting back home.

For me, that meant meetings, contracts, and babysitting Samuel so he didn't burn the business down.

For Raphael, it meant going back to the hospital.

We didn't bother with commercial flights.

Our families were wealthy enough that a private jet wasn't even impressive anymore.

But this time felt different.

I sat beside him on the plush leather seat, watching the world fall away below us.

Raphael was out cold before we even leveled off.

Head tilted toward me, breathing slow.

My lips quirked up.

So this was my superpower, apparently.

I glanced at him, fighting the urge to poke his cheek again.

He didn't even flinch.

God. I was a human lullaby.

I tried not to laugh as i picked up my champagne flute and sipped quietly.

-

When we landed, my parents insisted we stay at the family mansion.

I didn't even let them finish.

"No thanks. We're staying at my condo," I said breezily.

Dad gave me that unimpressed, eyebrow-raised stare. "Why not just buy a house already? You can afford it."

I smirked. "We'll do that once we have kids."

Raphael choked on his drink.

I patted his back without looking at him.

Pretending not to see the way his ears turned red.

When it was time to go, I gave him my condo address and walked to my car without a second glance.

The entire ride home, I sat in the backseat thinking too much.

Like an idiot.

About him.

About us.

About what it would even mean, living together for real.

Waking up in the same bed.

Him making coffee for me in the morning while i stole his hoodies and lied about where they went.

Coming home late from the hospital, exhausted, collapsing onto the couch while i nagged him about work-life balance.

God.

My chest tightened at the thought.

Manong Ben cleared his throat gently. "Ma'am? We're here."

I blinked, snapping out of it. "Right. Sorry."

I climbed out of the car, ignoring my racing heart.

When i got inside my unit, I just flopped onto the bed face-first.

I lay there like a starfish for a solid minute.

What the actual hell was i doing?

Thinking about us?

This was supposed to be a deal.

Not some ridiculous daydream.

I forced myself up and started cleaning like my life depended on it.

Spraying perfume on everything.

The bed. The couch. The freaking curtains.

Even though i had people who cleaned every week.

I didn't care.

I wanted it perfect.

A real home.

I actually snorted at myself.

"Congratulations, Claudia. You're a desperate housewife now."

Hours later, Raphael finally arrived.

I heard the elevator ding and i practically flew to the door.

He was dragging two suitcases behind him, looking faintly annoyed but also resigned.

I beamed like an idiot.

"Welcome to our home," I announced grandly, sweeping my arm.

He raised an eyebrow. "It's your condo."

I ignored him, grabbing his hand and pulling him inside.

I gave him a whirlwind tour, talking too fast.

"And this," I said, stopping in front of the biggest door, "is our bedroom."

He squinted at me.

Then glanced at the door across the hall.

"I'll take the guest room."

My smile fell right off my face.

"Excuse me?"

He just dropped his bag and headed that way.

"Fine," I snapped. "Do whatever you want. But you're not gonna sleep without me."

He paused, glancing back at me like he was trying not to laugh.

And that made it worse.

I turned on my heel and stormed into my room, slamming the door so hard the perfume bottles rattled.

I lay on my bed, fuming.

Staring at the ceiling like it was my mortal enemy.

Plotting.

What if i walked out there wearing nothing but his shirt?

What if i "accidentally" fell asleep in his bed?

What if i moaned about nightmares until he had to hold me?

I actually cracked up.

What was wrong with me?

But even as i laughed, I didn't hate the idea.

A little while later, there was a knock on my door.

I didn't move.

Raphael's voice was muffled. "I'm going out to buy groceries."

I blinked.

He cooked?

I scrambled to sit up.

"…For real?"

"So we can eat actual food," he added dryly.

"Buy something good!" I called out as he walked away.

As soon as the door shut behind him, I slumped onto the couch, my mind spinning.

Imagining him cooking.

Chopping vegetables with those precise hands.

Me sneaking up behind him, hugging his waist.

Whispering smells good, as if i can smell.

Him turning to feed me with a smirk.

I buried my face in a pillow, groaning.

"Get it together, Claudia."

When he came back, Raphael immediately started putting things away.

I watched from the kitchen counter like some obsessed fangirl.

He looked so annoyingly good. Sleeves rolled up. Focused. Calm.

"Need help?" I offered, even though I didn't mean it.

He moved so naturally in my kitchen, sleeves pushed up, forearms taut as he chopped vegetables.

"You cook often?" I asked lightly.

He glanced over. "Not really. But i know how."

"What are you making?"

"Sinigang."

My eyes widened. "You're officially forgiven for taking the guest room."

He snorted. "Noted."

Dinner was simple and perfect.

The hot broth, the soft pork, the sourness that made me close my eyes in bliss.

"This is amazing," I said around a mouthful.

He lifted a brow. "Are you surprised?"

I grinned. "A little."

He shook his head but looked almost…

pleased.

After we'd cleaned up, he stretched and turned toward the hall.

"I'm going to bed," he said.

I eyed him. "Which one?"

He gave me a flat look.

"Fine," I sighed.

He disappeared into the guest room.

I waited a few minutes before creeping over and slowly easing the door open.

He was lying on his back, eyes closed.

I tiptoed closer, watching the rise and fall of his chest.

I lifted my hand, about to wave it in front of his face—

"What are you doing?" he asked without opening his eyes.

I yelped, nearly dropping my phone.

"Nothing!"

He cracked one eye open. "Claudia."

"I was just…checking," I mumbled.

He sighed, sounding impossibly tired. "Of course you were."

I shifted my weight. "Can you sleep?"

His mouth twitched. "Apparently."

I crossed my arms. "Good."

He didn't say anything else, and eventually, I slipped back out, shutting the door softly behind me.

Back in my room, I lay there, wide awake.

I wasn't sure what this meant.

Or why, whenever i was near him, he seemed…better.

But i couldn't stop thinking about it.

Couldn't stop thinking about him.

I pressed my hand over my racing heart.

One thing was certain:

This was getting out of control.

And i didn't even want to stop it.