Love, Heila (Tagalog)

Chapter 6

Lumipas pa ang ilang araw at mas naging hands-on pa si Rehan sa flowershop. Walang palya ang kaniyang kasipagan, kaya lang, parang maikli ang pisi niya ngayon.

Mula sa pwesto ko ay kitang-kita ko kung paano siya bumuntong-hininga at manliit lalo ang mga mata sa kaniyang ginagawa.

Cute.

“Rehan?”

“Yeah?” sagot niya nang hindi ako nililingon.

“Rehan?” ulit ko.

“Yes?”

"Rehan, kapag tinuloy mo 'yang paghila sa ribbon, mapipigtas na 'yan. Ako na nga riyan."

Natawa ako nang bahagya habang pinapanood si Rehan sa tabi ng worktable. He was trying his absolute best to tie a perfect satin bow around a glass vase for Marion Devan’s Friday executive dinner, but his long, elegant fingers looked completely ridiculous dealing with the slippery fabric. For a guy who looked like he could command an entire corporate boardroom, a piece of pastel pink ribbon was apparently his ultimate match.

Rehan paused, his dark eyes narrowing slightly as he looked down at the crumpled knot he had just created. He let out a low, frustrated breath. "The material is too smooth. It lacks... structural integrity."

"Wow, structural integrity talaga ang tawag mo sa ribbon?" lumapit ako sa kaniya, taking the spool from his hands. "Ganiyan ba talaga kayong mga mayayaman mag-isip? Ribbon lang 'to, Rehan. Kailangan mo lang siyang tantyahin gamit ang swabe na hila, hindi 'yung parang nakikipag-away ka sa tali."

"I am not fighting the ribbon," he murmured defensively, though he stepped back just enough to give me space, crossing his arms over his chest. He watched my hands intently as I smoothly wrapped the satin and formed a perfect, fluffy bow within seconds.

"Heto, tingnan mo. Ganiyan dapat," sabi ko, looking up at him proudly. "Ang dali lang, 'di ba?"

Rehan didn't look at the ribbon. His gaze was fixed entirely on my face, a soft, unreadable expression passing through his sharp eyes before he quickly masked it. "You make it look easy because you have small hands. It is a biological advantage."

Agad niyang hinawakan ang kamay ko to compare it to his hands. It was a sudden action na parang nagdala ng kuryente sa buong katawan ko. His hand was soft. Napakurap ako nang ilang beses bago ko binawi ang aking kamay at nagpatay-malisya.

"Aba, nagdahilan pa ang runaway prince natin," tinabig ko siya nang bahagya gamit ang siko ko, completely missing the way his posture stiffened slightly at the casual contact. "Mag-asikaso ka na nga lang doon sa mga balde ng tulips. Bilisan mo, baka maunahan ka pa ni Hijomi mag-meryenda rito."

Huminga ako nang malalim pagkatapos. Mukha namang hindi niya napansin ang naging reaction ko. Jusko.

"Hijomi only thinks about food," Rehan noted flatly, though he walked over to the buckets anyway. "And I am not a prince."

"Sus, sa tangkad at kutis mong 'yan? Kung hindi kita nakikitang nagbubuhat ng crates dito, iisipin ko talaga na naliligaw ka lang mula sa isang shooting ng Korean drama," biro ko habang pinuputulan ang mga huling tangkay ng carnations. "Speaking of which, noong nandoon ka pa sa Korea, marami ka bang naging girlfriend? May iniwan ka ba roon kaya ka naglayas?"

The question was purely lighthearted, but for a second, the shop grew quiet. Rehan reached down to lift a bucket of water, his forearms tensing under his rolled-up flannel shirt. "No. I had no time for those things."

"Talaga? Sa guwapo mong 'yan, walang nagka-crush sa'yo sa office niyo o sa school?" tanong ko, curious talaga. "O baka naman sobrang taas ng standards mo?"

“Hmm. So I’m handsome?”

“Ha—”

Rehan smiled. He smiled!

“I mean... Ano...”

He is gwapo naman. Pero bakit ba ako nabubulol?

Rehan set the bucket down and leaned against the counter, facing me. He tilted his head slightly, his dark eyes locking onto mine with a sudden, quiet intensity that made my breath hitch for a fraction of a second. "My standards are not high. I just prefer someone... who is genuine. Someone who laughs easily, even when things are difficult."

I blinked, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious under his gaze. I cleared my throat, forcing a laugh to break the sudden warmth in the room. "Ah, gusto mo ng masayahin. Bagay sa'yo 'un, para naman mabawasan 'yang pagiging seryoso mo sa buhay."

"What about you?" Rehan asked smoothly, shifting the focus back to me before I could analyze his answer. "What is your... ideal guy?"

"Ako?" napakamot ako sa ulo gamit ang likod ng kamay ko na may bakas pa ng green sap mula sa mga halaman. "Hmm... honestly, hindi ko pa masyadong naiisip 'yan kasi busy ako rito sa shop ni Mama. Pero kung tatanungin mo ako, gusto ko ng lalaking simple lang. 'Yung tipong maalaga, tapat, at higit sa lahat, 'yung marunong makinig kapag pagod na ako sa maghapon."

I paused, looking at the display window. "Gusto ko rin ng lalaking hindi mahihiyang madumihan ang kamay kasama ko rito sa shop. 'Yung kayang tanggapin na ganito lang ang buhay ko—puro bulaklak, laging amoy lupa, at laging pagod."

Rehan stood completely still, absorbing my words. His eyes dropped to my green-stained fingers, then moved back up to my face. A deeply hidden, soft warmth flickered in his dark eyes—a silent, intense emotion that he carefully locked away inside his chest.

"A simple guy," Rehan finally repeated aloud, his baritone voice incredibly soft. "That does not sound too difficult to find."

"Naku, mahirap kaya sa panahon ngayon!" hinarap ko siya uli, iwinawagayway ang gunting ko sa hangin nang madrama. "Sa panahon ngayon, puro porma na lang ang alam ng mga lalaki. Tignan mo si Mr. Marion, the head of marketing, successful, pero napakabait pa rin at maalaga sa fiancée niya. Bihira na ang ganiyang lalaki, 'di ba?"

The mention of Marion’s name made the subtle warmth in Rehan's expression instantly cool down into his usual defensive mask. He picked up a cloth and began aggressively wiping down a clean spot on the counter. "He focuses too much on making other people happy. He forgets to protect himself."

"Heto na naman tayo sa pagiging bitter mo kay Mr. Marion," natatawa kong saway sa kaniya, "Maglinis ka na nga lang diyan, Rehan. Ang dami mong sinasabi."

Rehan didn't reply, but the corner of his mouth twitched downward in a silent, stubborn pout that I found oddly cute for a guy his size. As the afternoon drizzle tapped softly against the glass, the initial coldness that surrounded the mysterious runaway from Seoul was slowly, beautifully melting away—one clumsy ribbon and one shared conversation at a time.