Be my S̶̶l̶̶a̶̶v̶̶e̶ || Book-I ||

you're making me crazy

"Phi, I think this movie is good. What do you think?" Macau asked Pete, glancing over his shoulder as he scrolled through the movie options.

He paused on one and turned slightly to look at pete, waiting for his opinion.

Seating on the couch, Pete nodded in agreement, his round glasses slipping slightly down his nose. The sight made me smile.

I turned and headed back to the kitchen to grab a plate of snacks. Once everything was ready, I returned to the living room, placing the snacks on the table before settling on the couch beside him.

Without a second thought, I pulled Pete closer, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

"Baby, aah," I said softly, holding out a chip to him.

Pete blinked up at me, momentarily distracted from the TV. Then, with a shy smile, he opened his mouth. I gently fed him the chip, watching as he chewed.

His cheeks puffed out like a hamster's, and I couldn't help but chuckle quietly. His focus shifted back to the screen almost instantly, completely absorbed in the movie.

"Phi, you will really love this movie, It's my favorite," macau said, grabbing a handful of popcorn and munching on it as his eyes stayed glued to the screen.

Pete leaned into me, his head resting lightly on my shoulder, my heart softened at the simple gesture. I found myself stroking his hair absently, enjoying the moments of peace.

It had been a week since the incident happened. That day in the hospital, after Dr. Top ran several tests, I discharged Pete and brought him home.

I fired every last one of the cooking staff, unwilling to take any risks after what happened to Pete.

His health had improved since then, but his voice still hadn't returned, and I wasn't taking any chances.

I glanced at him, his small frame nestled against me.

"Want some?" He nodded, and I grabbed another snack, feeding him carefully.

"Eat slowly, or you'll choke," I said to macau, handing him a drink.

"Hia, I want cookies," Macau, said still focused on tv.

"You haven't even finished your popcorn, pizza, and burger, and now you want cookies?" I said, raising an eyebrow.

Macau pouted, his eyes wide and pleading. "But I really want cookies..."

"Mac, first finish what's in front of you, and then I'll-" Before I could finish, Pete stood up, signaling that he'd get the cookies for macau.

"Pete-" I started to protest, but he raised a hand, stopping me and smiled as he walked toward the kitchen.

I sighed, leaning back against the couch. "He never listens," I muttered.

Macau grinned mischievously. "Hia, you're soft with him. You never yell at him like you yell at me."

"That's because you're a brat," I shot back, but the corner of my lips tugged into a smile.

Minutes passed, but Pete still hadn't returned from the kitchen. Worry crept in, so I decided to check on him.

As I peeked inside, I saw him adorably jumping, trying to reach the cookie jar on the top shelf. A soft chuckle escaped me as I leaned against the doorframe, watching him. Unable to resist, I walked toward him.

"How am I supposed to stop myself from falling for you when you're this cute?" I murmured close to his ear.

He froze mid-jump, slowly turning to look at me with those wide, innocent eyes that always seemed to undo me.