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Jo hates waking up early. She’s not an early bird; never has been. Afternoon is her morning and midnight is her night, that’s how she’s always been.
Today is different, though. Today, Jo has a plan. A special plan. A special plan that requires her to be up at the ass-crack of dawn, much to her annoyance.
Jo blinks sleep from her eyes and stares at the ceiling. The clock reads 5:27am, way too early for any sane person to be awake.
But her girlfriend isn’t sane. Raissa goes to bed late and wakes up early and somehow doesn’t take naps during the day. Sometimes, Jo wonders if she’s actually in love with a robot instead of a human being.
Jo sits up in bed, sheets crinkling around her waist, and she looks down at Raissa’s sleeping form. Nah, definitely not a robot. She’s too beautiful.
Raissa sleeps facing her, one arm under her pillow and the other wrapped around Jo’s hand. She’s snoring, soft but noticeable, and there’s a small amount of drool dried on her cheek. Cute.
Usually, Raissa only shows her best self to the world. Smart, beautiful, fun, but never disheveled. Only Jo gets to see her like this—raw, natural, and so, so beautiful.
Jo runs gentle fingers through Raissa’s hair. It’s so silky and soft, the color of darkness itself, and it smells like strawberries. Jo likes it a lot. It’s fun to play with.
Too fun. Jo’s getting distracted, and she doesn’t have the luxury to be distracted. She tears her gaze away from her girlfriend’s cute ass fucking face and toward the window. The sun hasn’t yet risen, which is good. Raissa always wakes up exactly when the sun’s light reaches above the distant hills and beams right into their home. That gives Jo around thirty minutes to make breakfast.
As Jo carefully scoots to the edge of the bed, Raissa gruffs. She’s still holding Jo’s hand, and as Jo tries to pull away, her grip tightens.
Shit.
Jo adjusts to a better angle to slip her hand from Raissa’s grip. Raissa doesn’t budge.
Fuck…
Jo tries again. She wriggles her fingers, tapping lightly at Raissa’s knuckles. Raissa groans and pulls her hand toward her chest, therefore tugging Jo right into her. She yelps softly, finding herself unable to stop Raissa from pulling her back toward the bed.
And, before Jo can even think about getting back up, Raissa’s arms wrap around her torso and pull her against her chest. Her chin rests on Jo’s shoulder, and she huffs a very annoyed breath. With each small movement Jo tries to make, Raissa’s grip tightens. It’s nigh suffocating.
“Raissa,” Jo squeaks. Raissa’s grip loosens enough for Jo to breathe, but not nearly enough for her to actually escape her girlfriend’s embrace.
“Wag ka,” Raissa mutters into Jo’s shoulder. “Don’t leave…”
Raissa grips Jo’s hand like she’s a lifeline. “You can’t. Hindi puwede.”
Oh. Jo stops moving. She listens. Raissa’s sniffling—she’s crying. Jo’s heart drops to her feet.
Did she do this? Is Raissa crying because of her?
Jo turns to face her. Raissa’s still asleep, but her eyebrows are furrowed and her lips are pressed into a thin frown. Tears run down her cheeks, unnatural and unwelcome. Jo reaches up to wipe them away, but no amount of wiping stops them from coming.
She’s having a nightmare. A nightmare about Jo. About her leaving—forgetting.
Jo grimaces. She never should have made that deal. Never should have abandoned Raissa like that.
She thought it was the only way. She thought Raissa wouldn’t miss her.
Staring at Raissa’s wrinkled nose and tear-stricken cheeks, Jo knows she was incredibly stupid for believing that. She wishes she could take it back, wishes she could travel back in time and never even think it.
But she can’t. That’s not an option. The only thing Jo can do is move forward. Move forward with Raissa, together, as more than friends. As lovers, girlfriends—the label doesn’t matter that much.
Jo presses a soft kiss to Raissa’s forehead. “Okay lang… nandito lang ako,” she whispers. “It’s okay, I’m here.”
Raissa grips her shirt. She throws a leg over Jo’s, enveloping her entirely in Raissa’s soft embrace. Jo smiles into her girlfriend’s neck. She’ll be Raissa’s rock. Her boulder. No matter what tries to bring her down, no matter who tries to break her wings, Jo will be there for her to hold onto.
Her boulder. Not weighing her down, helping her soar. That’s a promise.
Breakfast can wait, she supposes. They’ll cook together like they usually do, and it’ll be just as special.
For now, Jo’s tired, and nothing sounds better than cuddling with her girlfriend until she drifts off.
“Why are my eyes red?”
Jo flips the pancake in the pan with the talent of a blind chef. There’s batter all over the stove, on her apron, and some even on the walls.
“They look fine to me…” Jo trails off as she turns the heat down. “Kain na, love.”
Raissa takes a seat at the bar and glares at her. Jo looks around nervously. While cute, Raissa’s scowl can also be very, very scary. Usually when Jo knows she did something. Or, in this case, isn’t telling her something.
“Josephine Cleopatra Yuson.”
Shit, full name.
“Ano pa?” Raissa leans forward. Jo bites her lip; she doesn’t want to tell her more.
“I think you were having a nightmare.” Jo plates two pancakes and tops them with strawberries and whip cream. “But it’s okay, now.”
“Did I say anything?” Raissa’s brows are furrowed. She’s worried. Jo debates telling her.
“No, nothing I could really make out.” It’s not entirely a lie. Nothing Raissa said was particularly damning. Jo figuring it out had everything to do with herself.
“Okay,” Raissa doesn’t sound convinced, but she drops it, anyway. Jo sits next to her, scooting as close as possible without getting too far into Raissa’s space, not that either one matters. “Thank you for making breakfast.”
“Yeah, I wanted to get up early and bring it to you in bed, but…”
Raissa’s lips twist into a frown. “How dare you.”
Jo whips to her, surprise and fear etched on her face. “H-Huh, what?” Shit, she looks really pissed off.
“How dare you try to leave me.”
Oh. Any dredge of fear melts away into love, then into laughter. Jo cups Raissa’s cheeks and pulls her in for a short, sweet kiss, leaving her mind melting and her heart soaring.
“You’re so cute,” Jo whispers against Raissa’s lips.
“You too,” Raissa responds. She kisses Jo again, firmer, longer, but still as sweet. “Ikaw din, mahal.”