CHAPTER 6
1249 Words
(Lexie Monteverdi’s POV)
“More days to come pa, matatapos narin tong project nato” I muttered under my breath, flipping through our project logbook.
days passed since the chaos began — and somehow, I’m still alive.
Barely.
Aira was helping Kiell stack boxes near the barn while Zyra was busy laughing at one of Rafa’s corny jokes.
I swear, may something fishy sa mga ’yon.
Ako? I was sitting on the steps of the farmhouse, pretending to write while secretly watching Elian Cruz argue with one of the workers.
He was all sweat and stubbornness, sleeves rolled up, hair a little messy from the heat.
He looked… annoyingly good.
Not that I noticed.
“Lex,” Aira’s voice cut through my thoughts. “You’re staring again.”
“I’m not!” I said way too quickly. “I’m observing. For the project.”
“Mhmm,” Zyra teased, walking past with a smirk. “Observing his jawline, maybe?”
I threw my pen at her. She caught it, still laughing.
Elian turned at the sound, brow raised.
“Everything okay there, Monteverdi?”
“Peachy,” I said sweetly. “Just trying to work while other people gossip.”
“Gossip?” he echoed, walking closer. “You sure it’s not you talking to yourself again?”
“Wow,” I said flatly. “I forgot how charming you are.”
He smirked. “You must have a short memory then.”
Why does he always have to have the last word?!
Ugh.
The others watched us like it was their favorite TV show.
Rafa was grinning, clearly entertained, while Kiell whispered something to Aira that made her giggle.
I pretended not to notice.
---
That afternoon, we gathered by the field for the progress check.
Elian stood at the front, serious as always, explaining how the irrigation system would be repaired.
I tried to focus, I really did — but then the sunset hit his profile just right, and my brain forgot how to function.
He looked golden.
Like the sun itself was trying to make me notice him.
He wiped the sweat from his forehead, squinting slightly against the light, and for a moment I just stared.
I mean, purely for observational purposes, of course.
Scientific observation. Academic interest.
Totally not attraction. Nope.
Stop it, Lexie. You hate him.
…Right?
“Elian?” I blurted out without realizing.
He turned. “Yes?”
I froze. Everyone turned to look at me.
“I—uh—just wanted to ask… if the soil composition affects water retention?”
Nice save, Monteverdi. Totally scientific.
He tilted his head slightly, fighting a smile. “Good question. We’ll check that tomorrow.”
Then, as if it were nothing, he walked past me — close enough for me to catch that faint scent of earth and soap.
My heart betrayed me by doing a stupid little flip.
Zyra gave me a knowing look from across the field. Aira mouthed something that looked suspiciously like “kilig much?”
I ignored them both, pretending to take notes, even though the only thing written on my page was:
> Note to self: stop staring at Elian Cruz. Seriously.
---
Later that night, we all ended up at the veranda — tired, sweaty, but laughing.
Kiell and Rafa told stories about college, Elian sat quietly nursing his coffee, and Aira and Zyra were in full chismis mode.
“So, Lex,” Kiell started with that teasing grin of his. “Between all of us, sino pinakamasungit?”
I didn’t even think twice. “Elian. No competition.”
“Fair,” Rafa said, chuckling. “He’s been like that since college.”
“Wow, loyalty award,” I muttered, taking a sip of water.
Elian glanced at me. “Careful, Monteverdi. You’re in my territory.”
I raised a brow. “Oh please. This is a free veranda.”
“Not when you’re this loud,” he said, deadpan.
“Not when you’re this bossy,” I shot back.
Everyone laughed. Even Kiell, who rarely laughed, actually smiled.
And for a second — just a second — Elian did too.
It wasn’t much, just a curve of his lips, soft and brief.
But it made my chest tighten in the weirdest way.
He looked… lighter. Like the usual storm in his eyes finally cleared for a moment.
And I hated that I liked seeing that.
---
When everyone went to sleep, I stayed behind.
The air was quiet now, only the sound of crickets and the rustle of trees.
The night sky stretched wide above the fields, the stars bright enough to make you forget city lights ever existed.
I pulled out my journal — the one I swore was just for academic notes.
> He smiled today.
It was barely there, but it felt like something shifted.
Like the storm finally passed — only to leave something else behind.
I stared at the words longer than I should have, tracing them with my thumb before closing the notebook quickly, cheeks warm even though no one could see me.
“Writing again?”
I almost jumped out of my seat. Elian was leaning by the doorframe, arms crossed, watching me.
“Don’t you knock?” I said, trying not to sound startled.
He shrugged. “It’s an open veranda.”
“Well, it’s closed now,” I said, clutching my notebook.
He stepped closer, just enough to make my heart do that stupid thing again.
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said quietly.
“You didn’t,” I lied.
He looked unconvinced. “You keep saying that.”
We just stared at each other for a moment — neither speaking, both pretending we didn’t feel whatever was happening.
His eyes flicked to the notebook in my hand, then back to my face.
“You always write before sleeping?” he asked.
“Sometimes,” I said. “It helps me remember.”
“Remember what?”
I hesitated. “Things I might forget later. Or things I don’t want to forget.”
He nodded slowly, thoughtful. “Then maybe you should write about the good days too. Not just the ones that make you sigh.”
“Who says I sigh?”
“Monteverdi,” he said, with that small teasing smirk again, “you sigh every time I walk in.”
My jaw dropped. “Excuse me?! I— that’s not— you’re—”
He chuckled, a low, quiet sound that I swear sent shivers down my spine.
“Relax,” he said, stepping back. “Just an observation.”
“You’re insufferable,” I muttered.
“Maybe,” he replied softly. “But you keep talking to me anyway.”
That shut me up.
He turned to leave, pausing just before the door. “Goodnight, Monteverdi.”
I swallowed. “Goodnight, Cruz.”
And as he walked away, I realized something terrifying.
I didn’t want him to.
Because the silence he left behind felt louder than all our arguments combined.
---
I leaned against the wooden railing, staring at the moonlit fields.
Somewhere out there, maybe he was still awake — fixing something, checking the animals, being his usual responsible self.
I hugged my knees and whispered to the wind,
“Why do you have to be so complicated, Elian Cruz?”
The wind didn’t answer, but it felt like it carried his name back to me anyway.
- Writer
