The Gangster Princess

Chapter 33

Chapter 33: The Calm Before The Storm

Reid Dale Go

People say I’m cold.
Stoic.
Emotionless.

But every time I’m with Aisha… I feel everything.

She’s chaotic in the most beautiful way.

A girl with the loudest laugh, the softest touch, and the strongest grip on my guarded heart.
The girl who used to argue with me every day… now, she’s the one I wake up for.

I don’t do celebrations.
Not because I hate them—well, maybe a little—but mostly because I don’t know how to.

I’m not the type to buy flowers.
I don’t write long cheesy messages.
I don’t post anything on social media.

But for her.

I find myself doing things I never imagined I’d do.

Today marks our third monthsary. Three months of chaos and peace. Of fighting and making up. Of learning how to open up even when I’ve always been the type to shut the world out.

So, I prepared. Quietly. In my own awkward, Reid way.

Fuck, I hated this.

But I hated the idea of disappointing her more.

Two nights ago, habang tulog pa siya, I started writing down ideas in my notebook. Yes, an actual notebook. Because typing it down made it feel too real—and that freaked me out. So I scribbled instead. Messy handwriting, bullet points, crossed out thoughts. I had no clue what girls even wanted for stuff like this.

I stayed up until 3 a.m. just searching random things like:
“how to be sweet for your girlfriend without sounding like a simp.”

Pathetic. I know.

But somehow, I figured it out.
I made a plan.

☽ a//z ☾

First, I visited her favorite café—yung laging puno tuwing Sunday mornings. I convinced the barista to open the shop thirty minutes earlier today. I ordered her usual: matcha cream bun, extra soft inside, slightly toasted outside, with a touch of honey drizzle.

Then I bought a hot chocolate—no sugar, because she says the bun’s already sweet enough.

And I brought my own tumbler for hers, 'cause she once said she liked how it felt warm in her hands.

I also passed by a small boutique downtown. A shop that sold hand-crafted accessories. I had been eyeing this particular bracelet for a week now—green threads for hers, black for mine. Braided simply, but strong. Unbreakable, they said. Parang kami. Hopefully.

The last part of my plan?

I printed a photo of us. Our first photo, actually. Yung candid shot niya na nakangiti habang inaasar ako dahil namula ako nung nahawakan niya kamay ko. I framed it. Small, sleek, nothing fancy. Just lurs.

I placed everything in a paper bag with dried flowers taped on the side. No card. No long letter. Just… effort. Quiet effort. Something I never gave to anyone else.

Cold guys like me don’t do sweet things.

But when it comes to her, I’m not cold.

I’m just soft in silence.