Gabriel’s Checklist appeared in Make My Wish Come True,
a #romanceclass Christmas anthology.
(This happens within the time frame of Scandalized.)
□ Pack light clothing.
4:00 AM, 5 days before Christmas
Even with nothing but his boxer shorts on, Gabriel Park tossed and turned in his sleep.
Less than twelve hours ago, he’d flown in with subzero-degree temperatures in Seoul, and his body was still acclimating to the humid Manila weather. There was no air conditioning in this room, but he wasn’t going to complain. He was only staying as a guest here at Filipina Legaspi’s house, after all.
He could tell she’d prepared for his short stay, even though he’d said there was no need to make such a big fuss. The mattress and pillows were now fitted with new sheets. They came in a rich, dark blue color, a far cry from the pastel sheets with dainty flower prints he’d slept on a few months ago.
The room, which belonged to Fi’s older sister who worked overseas, had also been cleared of its clutter. Its walls still proudly showed off Mayumi’s love for old school K-pop, as evidenced by posters of first-generation idols. On the shelves were K-pop photo books as well as CDs, organized better than the last time he was here.
It had been Fi’s stories that piqued Gabriel’s interest and made him decide to return to Manila for Christmas. She’d told him about age-old traditions, delicious delicacies, and fun activities she’d missed a lot while working in Seoul for years. Her being able to spend Christmas in the Philippines might be more of a circumstance shoved into her hands than anything, but Fi was very happy to be here.
He was too. Now if only he could get some shut-eye.
“Gabe, are you decent?”
Gabriel’s eyelids flew open at the sound of Fi’s voice. The room was pitch dark, and the only hint of light he could see came from the digital alarm clock sitting on the bedside table. It said 4:00 AM.
He heard a knock on the door. “Gabe?”
Gabriel sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his palms. Why is she up so early?
He replied with a soft groan and got out of bed. Careful not to bump into or trip on anything, he padded cautiously toward the door.
“What is it?” he asked sleepily as soon as he opened the door. The light from down the hall assaulted his eyes, making him squint.
“Jesus Christ, I asked if you were decent!” Fi exclaimed, frowning. She was still wearing her baby blue pajamas and oversized sleep shirt. There was a green bath towel draped over her left shoulder, and a tub of toiletries was nestled against her chest.
“What—I’m not naked,” he pointed out, looking down at his boxers as though checking if his statement was true. “Why are you knocking at a man’s door at this ungodly hour?”
“Hoy, this is my ate’s room, ‘no! Eish, jinjja—” Fi stammered, her words an awkward mix of English, Filipino, and Korean. “Put a shirt on, jebal!”
Gabriel laughed, finding it amusing how flustered she was. If he’d felt a little groggy seconds earlier, he was definitely awake now.
“First of all, your sister is not in the room with me.” Just to be annoying, he pulled the door wide open and stood at the threshold—one arm leaning against the frame, his free hand resting on his hip. He held back a smile when Fi appeared to be debating in her head whether to take in the view or look away.
“Secondly, I can’t sleep in this heat.”
She looked up at him, eyes fixed on his face, challenging. “And whose fault is that? I told you to book a hotel so you’d be more comfortable.”
“And I told you I want to be with you.”
Her lips parted as if to protest, but no words came. Now accustomed to the light down the hall, Gabriel’s eyes caught Fi’s attempt to conceal a blossoming smile with a pout.
“Just get dressed,” she said in a huff and turned to go. “We’re hearing mass. Simbang Gabi.”
A soft chuckle escaped his throat as he shut the door. All of a sudden, it wasn’t such a task to get dressed in the wee hours of the morning. (And on his vacation too.)
Gabriel returned to bed, pulling his suitcase along with him. Several days ago, Fi reminded him to leave the knitted sweaters and goose-down jackets in Seoul because there was no winter in the Philippines. (“Okay, maybe bring just one set, so you don’t freeze to death when you fly back.”) He ended up revisiting his summer wear and packing his bag with every cotton shirt he could find.
“Okay...what do people wear to mass these days...?” Gabriel mumbled to himself as he unpacked his luggage and organized everything on his bed. Shirts and pants side by side on his left, underwear and socks on his right.
Underneath all the clothes was a flat red box with a gold ribbon tied around it. Gabriel picked it up and smoothed his thumb over the ribbon. It was less than a week until Christmas day, and he couldn’t wait to see how Fi would react opening this present.
Will she like it? he wondered. He sincerely hoped she would.
□ Always be open to try something new.
Gabriel was awake for the entire Simbang Gabi.
(Perhaps not for all the right reasons, but he could at least say he didn’t doze off in the middle of it.)
While neither of his parents were devout Catholics, Gabriel recalled coming to church and hearing mass as a child. It wasn’t frequent, but he also remembered being either so restless or sleepy. He never complained, though. He knew his mother would smack him on the head if he expressed his honest thoughts about mass being boring. Then again, this was the same woman who told him that being a decent person was enough to make God happy.
It was the pomp, he decided, that kept him interested and on his toes today.
The parish near Fi’s house was small and unassuming, but the string of lights that outlined its facade created a vision against the dim Manila skyline. Inside, the walls were beautifully adorned with more lights and star-shaped lanterns. From where they were seated, Gabriel could see a nativity scene by the altar, and on the opposite side stood the choir in their white-and-gold robes. Everything looked so festive and put together, it was difficult to feel bored. Good thing too, that the mass was in English.
Fi holding his hand during the Lord’s Prayer and kissing him on the cheek as greetings of peace were exchanged jolted him awake as well. The fact that Fi’s mother, Diana, was one seat away from him when it happened made him panic for a second, though.
“Would you like some bibingka and puto bumbong?” Diana asked after the mass ended, her gaze flitting between Fi and Gabriel.
Fi answered before he could ask, “They’re rice cakes. You should try them.”
“Sure.” He wasn’t very picky with food; he had tried isaw and balut before, after all.
“I’ll light the candles, Ma. You go ahead and buy. Pakisabi kay Aling Mercy, damihan naman ’yung niyog...”
Diana only laughed and went ahead of them, and Gabriel watched her get lost in the sea of people (who knew this small structure could fit so many?) leaving the church. Meanwhile, he followed Fi to the back of the church and watched her light prayer candles.
A soft tap on his shoulder made Gabriel turn his head. A familiar face greeted him with a smile.
“Hey, man. When did you arrive?”
“Carlos.” Out of habit, Gabriel bowed to Fi’s friend and smiled. “I flew in yesterday afternoon.”
“Awesome. You’re spending Christmas and New Year in Manila?”
“Just Christmas. I have a lot of work cut out for me before the year ends.”
Carlos clicked his tongue. “Ah, that’s too bad.”
“Yeah, I would’ve wanted to spend more time with Fi.”
A pleased grin appeared on Carlos’ face. “I’m sure she’d love that.”
“Really?” Gabriel glanced at Fi who was still standing in front of the wrought-iron candle stand, hands clasped together in prayer. “Doesn’t seem like she’s too happy about me being here, though.”
Carlos laughed and gave him a sympathetic pat on the back. “Filipina’s just not used to this kind of attention,” he said. “Why don’t you try, uh—we have this thing in the Philippines called panliligaw.”
“Panli-what?”
“Panliligaw. Courtship,” Carlos said. “Ligawan mo si Fi.”
Gabriel jerked an eyebrow. Courtship. Huh. In all the years he’d spent in the dating scene, Gabriel never really thought of proper courtship and what it entailed. His past relationships usually followed the “I like you, you like me, let’s date” cycle, affairs that ended almost as quickly as they began. His friends in New York, while not conservative in any way, used to lecture him about the difference between serial dating and being an asshole.
You’re one hookup away from being a jerk, one of them said. Watch it.
Maybe he became that guy, he wasn’t sure. All he knew was that he dated more than one girl after that, and then he just sort of walked away from it all, weary of the flirting over drinks, the one-night stands, the “putting your best foot forward” during the first date.
But now Carlos was suggesting he pursue Fi through courtship, and he wasn’t really sure he was wired for that.
“Is that... necessary?”
“Well...” Carlos pursed his lips and tilted his head to the side. He appeared to consider Gabriel’s words, nodding before he spoke. “It was only a suggestion.”
As Gabriel mulled over the idea, Carlos continued speaking. “I know I might have sounded like I’m trying to meddle in your affairs when I shouldn’t, but... Filipina is one of my best friends. She’s never had a boyfriend before—not because Tita Diana was strict about it, but because she felt like she had to be as good, as smart, and as diligent as her sister. So she studied as hard as Ate Yumi did and barely had time to think about boys and relationships... things like that.
“Knowing you’re here because of her makes me happy,” Carlos added, the smile on his face sincere. “If there’s anyone in the world who deserves to be loved just as much as she loves, it would be Fi. And if I could help in any way...”
Fi appeared beside Carlos all of a sudden, cutting his sentence short. Her arm quickly found a spot over his shoulder. “What are the two of you talking about, hm?” she asked, knocking her head gently against Carlos’ before looking up at Gabriel.
Carlos cleared his throat and trained his eyes on Gabriel as well. “Oh, nothing much. I only asked him if he’s tried Aling Mercy’s puto bumbong yet.”
“Oh right! Mama already went to buy some—let’s go outside and meet her!” Fi let go of Carlos and led the way out.
Gabriel spoke in a hushed tone as soon as Fi was a safe distance away. “So can you tell me more about this... courtship thing?”
“Is this your way of accepting my suggestion?”
Gabriel caught sight of Fi glancing over her shoulder and beckoning them to move faster. He only nodded at her, then turned to Carlos with a smile.
“You can say I’m always willing to try anything once.”
□ Be ready to put your stomach to the test.
8:00 AM
“Diana.”
Fi’s mother looked up from the tsokolate de batirol she was preparing and cast a gentle smile at Gabriel. “Yes, hijo. Do you need something? Are you hungry? I’m almost done cooking...”
Hungry? Hardly. The rice cakes they ate after coming home from church were filling enough to last him another two hours, at least. But it seemed Diana was in the middle of preparing a meal, if the pans on the stovetop were any indication. There was fried rice in one pan and some sweet-savory sausages in the other. A platter on the kitchen counter had a few fried eggs, cooked sunny-side up.
Is this lunch? But it’s only eight o’ clock!
Gabriel waved his hand no, a quick response to Diana’s question. While the scent of food was heavenly, his stomach twisted in small, painful knots. This only usually happened when he’d done something horribly wrong and had no choice but tell his mother before she found out from someone else. Even the worst of work mishaps weren’t enough to make him feel this kind of unease.
“Are you looking for Fi? I think she’s napping in her room right now.”
“No, I...” Gabriel’s words were cut short when Diana left what she was doing on the kitchen counter to mind the sausages in the frying pan. She picked up a pair of tongs and turned each sausage, making sure the side previously submerged in oil was nicely cooked. Fat from the meat made small explosions that made Gabriel flinch, but Diana worked steadily, moving on to the fried rice when she was done with the sausages.
Every movement Diana made in front of the kitchen stove reminded Gabriel of his own mother. For a moment, he wondered what Jean Park was up to in their New York City apartment. Probably snuggled up to her dog—a golden retriever named Ginger—while watching her favorite show on TV. He smiled at the thought, making a mental note to call her in the morning.
“Let me help you,” he offered, scanning the kitchen counter for possible tasks. Chopping, slicing, mixing, maybe? His eyes drifted to the pile of dirty dishes on the sink.
“Naku, hijo. You’re a guest here, I can’t let you.”
“No, please... I insist. I can wash the dishes for you. I’m excellent at washing dishes.”
The woman laughed. “You’re bored, ano? It’s too bad Carlos isn’t here—I’m sure you young men can find something to do. Let me wake Fi instead. Sandali—”
Gabriel touched Diana’s arm. “Please don’t. It’s really fine. Actually, I wanted to speak to you too.”
“Oh?” Diana looked at him thoughtfully. “What about?”
First of all, you’ve got to make your intentions known, Carlos had told him earlier. Not only to Fi, but to her family. It’s a form of respect. Not a lot of people do that anymore, but I think Tita Diana will appreciate it. Fi too.
“I really like Fi,” he said, stating the obvious. A smile slowly lifted the corners of Diana’s lips as he struggled with his words. “And I, uh—I wanted to let you know that I’m... making lugaw.”
The smile on Diana’s face broke into a wide grin before laughter took over. “Oh, Gabriel. It’s ligaw, not lugaw! Lugaw is porridge!”
“Ah. Right.”
“Unless you want to make lugaw for her too, then that’s fine.”
Gabriel laughed along with Diana, the knots on his stomach finally loosening. “No, I’m pretty sure what you’re cooking would be enough. Please let me help you. It’s the least I could do for crashing here.”
“Oh, shush. You are always welcome here,” Diana said. “But if you insist, you can help me with Fi’s favorite hot chocolate.”
He agreed, and Diana patiently taught him how to whisk melted tablea—pure cacao beans roasted, ground, and molded into small round discs—with a bit of milk and muscovado sugar. She showed him how to work the molinillo, a wooden whisk she held between her palms and rotated as she rubbed her hands together.
“Fi likes it really rich and frothy,” Diana offered. “So you have to do a good job whisking the chocolate.”
“All right.”
“It’s a little tricky the first few times, but your hands look strong. I think you’ll do well.”
And he did, several agonizing minutes later. A proud smile appeared on Gabriel’s face when the hot chocolate finally turned nice and frothy under his care. Diana gave him small cups to pour the drink into, and he managed to do so without spilling any of the precious chocolate.
Soon, it seemed that the delicious aroma reached the second floor of the Legaspi household, because Fi shuffled into the dining area just as Gabriel and Diana were setting the table. She didn’t seem fully awake yet, but she gravitated toward her usual spot at the table and settled in her seat.
“Oh good, you’re awake!” Diana exclaimed. “Let’s have breakfast!”
“Good morning, Fi,” Gabriel greeted, placing a cup of tsokolate de batirol in front of her.
She looked up at him with a sleepy smile he found terribly endearing. “Good morning, Gabe.”
□ Prepare to sing with all your heart.
Fi tried her best to play hostess for the next three days, taking Gabriel to places he’d never been to the last time he was here. But because she had to factor in Christmas-rush traffic to their travel time, their itinerary was rather limited. He didn’t mind.
On the first day, Fi had Carlos (who was already on Christmas break) drive them to Calauan, Laguna, so they could enjoy lunch at a restaurant called Isdaan. Gabriel found the place disorienting at first, what with grand Buddha sculptures displayed alongside cartoon characters and statues of famous people. He enjoyed taking silly photos by the sculptures while waiting for their food to arrive, though.
“Gabe, have you tried eating with your hands?” Carlos asked as platters of fresh seafood cooked in various ways—grilled, baked, sautéed in butter—were placed on their table. Fi giggled.
“No.”
“Oh, you really should. The food tastes better that way,” Carlos said, leaning over so he could take Gabriel’s spoon and fork away. “Fi, do the honors.”
Gabriel observed Fi while she picked off a bit of flesh from the grilled tilapia, dipped it in a mixture of soy sauce, calamansi, and crushed pepper, and put it on top of her steamed rice. Then, she gathered the rice and fish into a small ball between her fingers before bringing it into her mouth.
It looked easy enough.
He watched her relish the morsel of food, brushing away a grain of rice by her bottom lip with his thumb.
The gesture made Fi blink twice and look away. She picked up a glass of water and drank from it.
“Fi, are you blushing?” Carlos asked. Gabriel could tell he was fighting the urge to laugh out loud.
Fi shot her friend a glare, then turned to Gabriel. “What are you waiting for?” she snapped. From across the table, Carlos let out a snort, then quickly diverted his attention to his plate.
“Your turn,” she told Gabriel.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, unable to suppress a smile upon seeing Fi’s cheeks turn a nice shade of pink. Carefully, Gabriel mimicked what Fi had done, but ended up spilling half of the food he picked up with his fingers. It made her laugh, and she spent the next ten minutes teaching him how to eat kamayan style.
He wasn’t sure about the logic (or was it some sort of magic?) behind it, but the food did taste better when he used his hands to eat.
Fi took him strolling through Luneta Park the next day, and they enjoyed some dirty ice cream he surprisingly missed. And because he finished a total of five ice cream cones in just a few minutes (in his defense, they were tiny), she began teasing him about it.
“I should look for some ice cream eating contests around... make some good money out of them while you’re here.”
“This makes me assume you’ve joined them in the past.”
“Not ice cream. Hotdogs.”
Gabriel coughed. It took every bit of willpower to keep himself from making a naughty comment, and in the end he just cleared his throat to stifle a laugh.
She threw him a playful punch on the arm. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re thinking.”
“I beg your pardon?” He placed a hand against his chest, as though offended.
With one eyebrow raised, Fi said nothing and just stared at him. He mirrored her expression and stared back, and soon they were laughing like idiots in the middle of the park.
“Come on. Where to next?” Gabriel asked and took her hand. Lifting it slowly to his lips, he watched the tender smile on Fi’s face turn into a scowl when he gnawed at her hand instead of kissing it. She shoved her hand to his face and he bolted, laughing, enjoying this—Fi chasing after him for once.
They ran in circles around the park until they both got tired and decided they needed something to drink. “We’ll settle this in a more civilized manner later,” she said. And he agreed.
A good part of their afternoon was spent getting lost among the paintings and artifacts in the National Museum, which was within walking distance from Luneta Park. Fi brought him to a small turo-turo—literally “to point,” because you point at what you want to eat, and they serve it to you. It reminded Gabriel of the hole-in-the-wall Fi liked to frequent back in Seoul: cozy, welcoming, and served tasty meals.
After dinner, she took him for another walk to a nearby wet market where they bought fruits and chestnuts before riding a jeepney back home.
“You’re not bored, are you?” she asked him, her voice loud enough to be heard over the Christmas songs blaring from the cramped vehicle’s radio.
He shook his head, unsure why she would think that. “Not at all.”
On the third day, Gabriel found himself in a karaoke room with Fi and a bunch of her high school friends and their plus-ones. Karaoke was, apparently, as much of a sport in the Philippines as it was in South Korea. Then again, Gabriel had never gone to a karaoke room with friends in Seoul. It was always for a work outing and more about making good with your superiors than having actual fun.
“I’m sorry I had to drag you into this,” Fi whispered to him as Carlos belted out a Bon Jovi classic. “I didn’t want to leave you alone at home.”
He gave her hand a reassuring pat. “It’s fine, I’m having fun,” he whispered in return. He also kind of fought the urge to kiss her on the cheek, but he let his bottom lip brush against her ear anyway.
There were about fifteen people in the room, twelve of them complete strangers to Gabriel. He wasn’t exactly averse to being social, but it was comforting to have Fi sit so close to him. She would often rest her hand on his knee, even. He liked that.
“You do know they’re going to make you sing, right?”
“Oh, I know. Don’t worry.”
She clicked her tongue. “Aigoo. Wipe that confident smirk off your face, aigoo,” she said, picking up a piece of chicharon from the selection of snacks on the table and shoving it into Gabriel’s mouth.
The piece of deep-fried pork rind made a satisfying crunchy sound between his teeth as he chewed. Carlos had already given him a heads-up about this karaoke session and, more importantly, the possibility of Gabriel getting grilled by their friends.
We’re a pretty chill barkada, Carlos had said about their group of friends. Only two are guys, so we’re going to be outnumbered. I’m pretty sure the girls will be charmed even before you say a single word, though. With that face of yours.
Gabriel couldn’t remember why he expected a less-than-friendly atmosphere, but the warm welcome brought him a sense of relief. He did his best to respond to the questions thrown at him, and soon he found himself making small talk about this and that.
“Gabriel—it’s your turn to sing!” With the flair of a TV show host, Carlos pointed the microphone toward him. “Do you have a song ready?”
“24552.”
Fi’s friends cheered when Carlos punched the numbers into the machine and Kiss from a Rose flashed on screen.
“All right, let’s see if I’m drunk enough for this!” Gabriel slapped his knees lightly and got up, taking the microphone from Carlos, who urged everyone to clap. The room erupted in cheers. “Good evening, everyone. Sorry for crashing your party.”
“Oh shush! Any friend of Fi’s is a friend of ours!”
“You mean boyfriend!”
“So is this song for Fi?”
A grin appeared on Gabriel’s face. “This. And every song I’m allowed to sing later on.”
He wasn’t the best singer, but he was a little drunk. Perhaps liquid courage was all he needed so he could make a fool of himself in front of strangers.
Before he came to Seoul years ago, one of Gabriel’s side jobs required him to walk down a ramp wearing nothing but underwear. Strangely enough, standing here now made him feel just as naked. Maybe even more.
Was baring his thoughts through song in front of Fi and her friends worse than baring his body? Maybe. But he was already here, so... might as well.
“You actually sing well! And here you said you couldn’t sing,” were Fi’s first words to him when he returned to his seat.
“Never said I couldn’t,” he corrected, recalling how the Amethyst Entertainment staff tried to persuade Gabriel to sing for the company Christmas party last year. “I said I didn’t want to.”
“And yet—” She held her arm out toward the small stage area in the room.
Gabriel gave in to his desire to kiss her right then, leaning in to gently press his lips against the side of her face. “This is different,” he whispered. “This is for you.”
□ Learn the language and use it well.
8:00 AM, Christmas Eve
“Where’s my mom?”
“Hey, good morning,” Gabriel said, looking over his shoulder. He saw Fi saunter into the dining area, disheveled hair and all. She took her usual spot at the table and began tying her hair.
“G’morning, Gabe.”
“Your mom went to the market to buy something.”
“What, you mean the food in this house isn’t enough to feed a village?”
He laughed and almost dropped the piece of tapa he was lifting out of the pan with a pair of tongs. “Nae mari,” he agreed, neatly putting the portions of cooked meat on two separate plates. He placed a cup of fried rice each on the plates and topped them with a fried egg. Sunny-side up, well done. Just the way Fi liked it.
“Did my mom tell you to take over the kitchen?”
“Hmm, actually—” Gabriel turned around, a plate in each hand. “I volunteered to cook breakfast today.”
Fi’s eyes lit up all of a sudden. If it was because she just realized he was wearing her mother’s pastel-pink apron, or because the food was ready, he wasn’t sure.
“Wow. You should wear pink more often.”
Ah. Pink apron it is.
“Duly noted, Ms. Legaspi,” he said as he put a breakfast plate in front of her. He took in the expression on her face and figured she was a little suspicious about... all this. “Don’t worry. I do know how to cook, you know. I’ve been living alone for years.”
She smirked at him. “Did I say anything?”
“No, but you were thinking it.” He returned to the counter to pour some freshly made hot chocolate in two cups. He’d liked the process of making tsokolate de batirol so much, he offered to do it for Fi’s mom every day since he learned it. Maybe he should buy tablea and bring it with him to Seoul. A sweet reminder of Diana’s approval of him pursuing her daughter.
“Fair enough.”
“The dishes are easy enough to make, Fi. Did you really think I’m not capable of frying things?” He put her cup of hot chocolate beside her plate, then settled into the chair across from her.
“Fine. Won’t we wait for Mom, though?”
“I... lied—she’s actually taking a break right now.” Gabriel took his apron off and put it aside. “I gave her an early Christmas present.”
She shot him a curious look.
“Spa services at a nearby hotel. And buffet breakfast. She’ll be back by—” He looked at his watch. “Lunchtime. And she has two friends with her so she wouldn’t be lonely.”
“Wah. You planned this, didn’t you?”
“She’ll be fine, Fi. Kain na tayo.”
He caught her jerking an eyebrow before the corners of her lips turned up in a smile. Was she impressed at his enunciation? He’d practiced a lot with Carlos’ help.
“I see you’ve been learning Filipino. Is it Carl’s idea?”
Gabriel only shrugged and picked up his spoon and fork so he could begin eating. “Jal meogora,” he said with a gentle nod.
They ate in silence for a little while and let the noises outside become their music. Silver hitting porcelain mixed with the roaring of tricycles, the shrill yip of the neighbor’s dog, and a low voice yelling “Tahoooooo!” made Gabriel smile. In several more hours, he would be hearing someone call out “Balut! Penoy! ‘Charon!” as well as children singing Christmas carols, all while playing instruments made of discarded bottle caps and milk cans.
A few more hours after that, and it’ll be Christmas day.
He was leaving for Seoul in twenty-four hours, and Gabriel figured this was his last chance to have some alone time with her. The past few days were fun. He’d learned a lot of new things about Fi and life here in Manila, but he needed a quiet moment such as this to tell her things that might otherwise be lost over all the noise. Diana was, thankfully, very generous to let him do what he wanted (so long as he didn’t burn the kitchen down).
“Do you want to hear what else Carlos taught me?”
Fi looked up from her plate and narrowed her eyes at him. “Naku! I’m pretty sure he taught you words you can’t say in front of my mom.”
He stifled in a laugh. She wasn’t completely wrong.
“Aside from that.”
“Okay.” Fi let go of her spoon and fork, took a sip of hot chocolate, and leaned back on her chair. She crossed her arms in front of her chest and said, “Let’s hear them, Park haksaeng.”
Oh, he’d been Carlos’ student, all right, and today was his final examination. Gabriel flashed Fi a wide and ready smile, as though he’d been waiting for this chance his entire life. He set his utensils down as well and pushed his plate forward so he could rest his arms on the table.
“Maganda ka,” he began. It wasn’t a lie. Even with unruly hair and sleepy eyes, Fi still looked beautiful to him. “Matalino. Malambing. Maalaga.”
She propped an elbow on the table and rested her chin in her palm. “Adjectives! I’m impressed!”
“Minsan makyoray.”
Fi’s eyes grew like saucers and then disappeared as she let out a loud cackle. “Oh. My. God. Did you just—”
Gabriel’s feigned confusion. “What?”
He could see how she struggled not to burst out laughing some more, and he knew exactly why. Aside from teaching him some decent Filipino words, Carlos had also given Gabriel an introductory course in gay lingo.
She’ll have a good laugh, I’m sure, Carlos had said, laughing as well. You should totally say it. Who doesn’t love a guy who can make them laugh, right?
She gestured with her hand, encouraging him to continue. “Anything else, Mr. Park?”
“Um...charot?”
Laughter bounced across the walls. Fi’s boisterous cackle first, followed by Gabriel’s low chuckle. It came to a point where Fi started tearing up, and she had to pause and take another sip of her drink to calm herself down.
Gabriel waited until she was ready to hear more from him again, and when she finally was, he simply said:
“Mahal kita.”
She was unable to speak then, eyes fixed on his face for a good, long while. It was as though she was trying to determine if he’d only said the words because he knew them, or because he actually meant them.
He challenged her gaze, knowing she’d heard him loud and clear. If she didn’t feel the same way, he would be fine with it. This feeling had simmered quietly in his heart for quite a while, and it was only now that he had the courage to actually say it. There was that kiss a few months ago, sure, but he knew not to consider it as anything but her saying she liked him too. And if he had to wait until she could tell him she loved him as well—then wait, he will.
“Gabe...”
“That wasn’t a punch line.”
“I know.”
Gabriel took a deep breath, then let out a relieved sigh. “I’m not expecting you to say it back, you know. And I know it sounds selfish, but this—telling you that I love you—is more for my sake than yours. I haven’t said these words to anyone and meant it as much as I do now. And I know that because now I’m willing to wait until you’re ready.
“What’s interesting is that Carlos told me the word mahal also means ‘expensive.’ Dear. Precious. It was only then that I realized it was possible for a single word to perfectly capture everything you are to me, Fi. Mahal kita, and I’ve never done anything like this before, but... Puwede ba kitang ligawan?”
Light danced in Fi’s eyes as they began to brim with tears. She laughed softly, and Gabriel thought he mispronounced the word ligaw again.
“If this is your way of getting me to return to Seoul...”
“You don’t have to come back if you don’t want to,” he quickly said. “I have no other agenda but to tell you that I want to pursue you. This. Us.”
“So you’d just hop on a plane so we could go on dates.”
“Why not?”
“Just how much does AmEnt pay you?” she asked. Her words were still punctuated with soft laughter, even as tears slid down her cheeks.
“Enough,” he simply replied, reaching across the table to wipe her tears away.
“Aigoo, Mr. Park.”
Gabriel left his seat then, moving to the empty one beside Fi. He dug into his pocket and pulled out the red gift box he had been keeping in his luggage. “I was going to give this to you tonight, but I figured it’d be busy and all...” he trailed off, putting the box on the table.
Fi gazed at the pretty little box and traced the line the gold ribbon made on the lid. She looked at him. “Shall I open it now?”
“If you wish.”
She undid the gold ribbon with a gentle tug, then pulled the lid off. Inside was a heart-shaped charm, gold and dainty, attached to an exquisite gold necklace. Fi admired it for a moment, touching the pendant delicately, as though it’d crumble if she were any less careful.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, smiling up at him.
He took the necklace out of the box and proceeded to put it on her, smiling in satisfaction when he pulled away and saw the tiny heart fall on a spot between her collarbones. “Beautiful,” he echoed softly, staring into her eyes now.
“Don’t just hop on planes and knock on our door without warning, okay?” she said, the expression on her face shifting to something he was more familiar with—Fi’s road manager mode. He liked that. Some days.
“I can’t promise you that.”
“Gabriel Park.”
“This is you saying yes, right?”
“Ask me again,” Fi teased.
He let out a laugh, clearing his throat right after. It was difficult to school his expression into one of seriousness, not when his heart was making a happy jig against his rib cage. “Mahal kita, Fi,” he said again. “Puwede ba kitang ligawan?”
“I must say... Carlos should consider shifting careers,” Fi remarked, grinning. Without another word, she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around his neck. And for every version of her reply—“Oo, puwede. Yes, you can. Ne, hal su isseo.”—she pressed a tender kiss on his cheek.
Gabriel held her tight and let her go, only so he could watch her eyes twinkle under his gaze. He had so much more to say, but her face was so close, it was impossible to resist those lips. The words can wait, he decided, leaning in to kiss her chocolate-laced mouth. That was it. He was definitely taking some tablea home.
He took his time, and she let him, her fingers familiarizing themselves with the curve of his jaw as they kissed. She was learning, he realized, sensing how she mimicked the force of his kiss and the rhythm by which he pushed and pulled. He smiled.
“What?” she mumbled.
“You’re a fast learner. I like that.” Gabriel rewarded her with a gentle nibble on her lower lip, and she responded with another kiss that left both of them breathless.
“We should stop, or I’ll get used to these damn kisses and crave them when you’re not around.” Her hands were still resting on the nape of his neck.
Another kiss. “Tell me so I can book a flight back.”
She got even. “Have you ever heard of bankruptcy?”
Two kisses. “I have a feeling you’ll still take me in.”
“Tsch. You’re infuriating, you know that?”
“I’ve been told.”
Fi shook her head and glanced at the table, at their food, almost untouched. “Breakfast, Mr. Park.”
Oh, how he’d miss this. Her. Gabriel wished he had more time to spend with Fi, but this was fine. This was perfectly fine. He’ll figure everything else out later, but right now he was happy to be given a chance by the woman he loved.
“Maligayang Pasko, Fi.”
She smiled and Gabriel saw a fondness in her eyes that wasn’t there before. It wasn’t the same sparkle he usually saw when she talked to him about her band, or Carlos, or her mother. It was new, and Gabriel wanted to believe it was his.
Fi touched a spot on his cheek and drew an invisible line from there to the base of his jaw. She kissed him again.
“Maligayang Pasko rin sa ’yo, Gabe.”
She was the best Christmas gift he’d gotten in years.
THE END