The festival was in full swing, a kaleidoscope of colors, laughter, and music enveloping Tuguegarao's town square. Erica marveled at the energy around her - the rhythmic beats of local folk songs, the playful chatter of children darting between stalls, and the tantalizing aromas wafting from food vendors. This was more than just an event; it was a celebration of life, community, and culture.
Erica and Sam wandered side by side, their pace leisurely as they navigated through the crowd. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt this relaxed, the simple joy of the moment grounding her in a way city life never had.
As they passed a vendor selling halo-halo, Erica's curiosity got the better of her. "What's that?" she asked, pointing at the colorful concoction.
Sam glanced at it and smirked. "Halo-halo. Layers of shaved ice, sweet beans, and fruit. You've never tried it?"
She shook her head, looking intrigued.
"Let's fix that," he said, buying one and handing it to her. "Here. You might want to mix it up before taking a bite."
Erica took the spoon hesitantly, stirring the vibrant layers together before taking a bite. The combination of textures and flavors was unlike anything she'd ever had. "Wow," she said, her eyes lighting up. "It's... unexpected. Sweet, but not too sweet."
"Kind of like this town," Sam said casually, his tone light but meaningful.
Erica glanced at him, surprised by the subtle compliment. But before she could say anything, they were interrupted by a group of Sam's former workmates.
"Sam!" one of them called out, a broad grin on his face. The group quickly gathered around, exchanging hearty handshakes and backslaps.
Erica hung back slightly, feeling out of place amidst the easy camaraderie. But before she could retreat further, Sam turned and reached out for her, his hand slipping around her waist in a gesture that felt both natural and protective.
"Everyone, this is Erica," he said, his voice steady and confident.
The warmth of his hand at her waist sent her pulse racing. She tried to focus on the introductions, but the casual intimacy of his touch left her flustered. Does he even realize what he's doing? she wondered, her cheeks heating up.
One of Sam's friends gave him a knowing smirk. "Didn't think we'd see you with someone, Sam. Let alone bringing her to the festival."
Sam shrugged, his expression unreadable. "She's new to town. Figured someone should show her around."
His words were nonchalant, but there was something in his tone - a quiet possessiveness - that sent a thrill through Erica. She couldn't help but glance up at him, her heart thudding in her chest.
As the conversation continued, Erica felt herself relaxing in his hold. Sam's friends were friendly and warm, sharing stories that painted him in a light she hadn't seen before - one of loyalty, resilience, and a hidden sense of humor. His hands is so warm
When they finally said their goodbyes, Sam guided her back into the crowd, his hand still resting lightly at her waist. The bustling festival seemed to fade into the background, her awareness narrowing to the warmth of his touch and the steady rhythm of their steps.
After a few moments, Erica broke the silence. "Uh, Sam..." she said, her voice teasing. "Your hand?" Please don't remove it
He glanced down, his eyes widening in realization. Quickly pulling his hand away, he rubbed the back of his neck. "Oh - uh, sorry," he muttered, looking uncharacteristically flustered.
Erica laughed softly, finding his discomfort endearing. "It's fine," she said, her smile gentle. "I didn't mind." because i loved it
For a moment, he looked at her, something unspoken passing between them. Then he gave a small nod, his lips twitching into a faint smile before he turned his gaze back to the path ahead.
Oh, Erica Villanueva, what's happening to you? she thought, feeling a warmth in her chest that had nothing to do with the festival lights.
As they continued walking, Sam veered off toward a food stall, exchanging a few words with the vendor. When he returned, he held out a piece of warm garlic bread.
"Here," he said simply, handing it to her.
Erica blinked, caught off guard. "You didn't have to - "
"Just take it," he interrupted, his tone teasing but firm.
She accepted the bread, feeling its warmth radiate through her hands. "You know," she said, taking a bite, "I can feed myself. I don't need you to take care of me."
Sam shrugged, his smirk returning. "Never said you did. But someone's got to make sure you don't starve while you're too busy gawking at everything."
Erica rolled her eyes but couldn't help the smile that crept onto her lips. "Well, thanks. It's good," she admitted, savoring the buttery, garlicky flavor.
"Of course it is," he said, his tone playful. "I've got good taste."
She gave him a sidelong glance, her smile softening. Yeah, you do, she thought, though she kept the words to herself.
As the night wore on, they found themselves drawn back to the heart of the festival, where couples were dancing beneath a canopy of lights. The music was slower now, the melodies weaving a spell over the gathered crowd.
Sam paused, glancing at the dancers, then at Erica. "Want to dance?"
Erica raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching into a grin. "You? Dance?"
"Don't look so surprised," he said, offering his hand. "I'm full of hidden talents."
She hesitated for a moment before placing her hand in his. As he led her onto the dance floor, Erica felt her heart skip. The music swelled around them, and they began to move, their steps tentative at first but quickly finding a rhythm.
Under the glow of the festival lights, surrounded by the hum of life and laughter, Erica realized she was no longer a stranger here. She looked up at Sam, her chest tightening as their eyes met.
I think I'm falling for him, she thought, her breath catching in her throat. And for the first time, the idea didn't scare her. Relax Erica you just thinking that you're not in love to him... or maybe I am...
*****
The next morning, Erica found herself unusually jittery, her mind replaying every little moment from the festival - the way Sam had kept his hand on her waist, how he had introduced her to his friends, and that simple yet thoughtful gesture of offering her bread. Why does he keep doing things that make me feel... like this? she thought, her heart fluttering with a mix of excitement and confusion.
She was tidying up the front yard when Sam walked by, carrying a bag of fresh produce from the market. He paused, watching her struggle to lift a heavy flower pot.
"Need help?" he asked, setting the bag down and reaching for the pot without waiting for her reply.
"I-I had it, you know!" she said, though her flushed cheeks betrayed her true feelings.
"Right," he teased, effortlessly lifting the pot and moving it to a new spot. "Just doing you a favor, princess."
She rolled her eyes, hiding her smile. "You don't have to keep calling me that," she murmured.
He just chuckled, ignoring her protest. "What, too good for a little royal treatment now?"
They stood there, a little closer than usual, neither moving nor breaking eye contact. Erica's heart raced, and she finally had to look away, pretending to be focused on the flowers. Why does he have to be so... infuriatingly kind and charming? she thought, glancing back at him. Her gaze softened as she watched him, realizing how much she enjoyed his company, even if he often teased her.
Sensing her gaze, Sam looked down at her, a flicker of curiosity crossing his face. "What's going on in that head of yours?" he asked, his voice low and almost tender.
Caught off guard, she stammered, "N-nothing! I'm just... thinking." She quickly looked away, her mind scrambling for a way to explain her sudden fluster.
Sam just smirked, brushing his hands off and heading back to his bag of groceries. "Alright then. Don't think too hard."
As he walked away, Erica watched him, her heart still pounding. Does he feel something for me, too? Or am I just reading too much into all of this? she wondered, torn between hope and uncertainty.
*****
Later that evening, Aunt Nena noticed her looking lost in thought, stirring a spoon around her mug of tea absentmindedly.
"What's gotten into you, dear?" Aunt Nena asked, her eyes twinkling knowingly. "You seem... distracted."
Erica quickly forced a smile, shaking her head. "Oh, it's nothing, Tita." But she could still feel the warmth in her cheeks as she thought about Sam's lingering glances and quiet acts of kindness.
Maybe... just maybe...
Erica took a deep breath, looking down into her tea as Aunt Nena raised an eyebrow knowingly.
"Are you sure it's nothing? You've been smiling to yourself more these days," Aunt Nena observed, her voice gentle and playful.
Erica chuckled nervously, trying to brush it off. "I guess I'm just... getting used to things here, that's all."
Aunt Nena gave her a knowing nod. "Well, I'm glad you're adjusting. It's not easy for someone from the city, but you're doing well."
Erica smiled, but her mind wandered back to Sam's small gestures - the way he'd just appeared in her life, helping her with things without being asked, teasing her in a way that somehow made her feel safe and seen. It was a strange feeling, but comforting. Why does he keep doing these things that make me feel... something? she wondered, her thoughts spiraling.
*****
The next day, she decided to try to keep her mind off him by tackling more chores around the house. She was outside hanging clothes to dry when she saw Sam returning from the fields, his shirt lightly dusted with dirt and his hair damp with sweat. He caught her gaze and, without missing a beat, walked over.
"Busy, huh?" he asked, his eyes flicking to the clothesline.
"Just trying to help out," she replied, feeling a strange thrill at his attention but hiding it under a casual tone.
Sam leaned against a post, watching her fumble with a particularly stubborn clothespin. Without a word, he reached over, his hand brushing hers as he helped secure the cloth. The touch was brief, but enough to send a shiver down her spine.
"There, see? Just needed a little help," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Erica's heart pounded, but she managed a small laugh. "I could've done it myself, you know."
"Sure you could, princess," he replied, a teasing glint in his eye as he let his hand linger on the line for a moment.
As he walked away, Erica stood there, gripping the clothespin tightly, her thoughts a chaotic swirl of feelings she could barely keep track of. Is he just being friendly? Or does he... maybe... feel the same way?
That evening, Aunt Nena caught her staring off into the distance as she cleaned up after dinner.
"You're awfully quiet tonight, Erica," Aunt Nena noted, her tone gentle but curious. "Something on your mind?"
Erica bit her lip, then took a deep breath. "Tita, how... how do you know if someone cares about you? Not just as a friend, but more than that?"
Aunt Nena's eyebrows rose, and a small, knowing smile spread across her face. "Well, it's in the little things they do, dear. Sometimes, actions speak louder than words. Like helping with chores without being asked, or looking after someone even when they don't know it." She looked at Erica with a twinkle in her eye. "Does that sound familiar?"
Erica's cheeks flushed, and she quickly looked down. Maybe she's right. Maybe Sam's actions really mean something more, she thought, her heart fluttering with a strange mixture of hope and anxiety.
*****
The next morning, Sam appeared at the door with a small basket of wildflowers, casually handing it to her. "Thought these might brighten up the place," he said, looking away as if it were no big deal.
Erica blinked, staring at the flowers in disbelief. He brought me flowers? Her heart raced as she tried to keep her composure.
"Thanks... they're beautiful," she murmured, feeling the warmth in her cheeks.
Sam shrugged, scratching the back of his neck. "Just thought you'd like them."
As he turned to leave, Erica watched him go, clutching the flowers close to her chest. Does he... does he feel something for me, too? Or am I just being foolish?
For the rest of the day, she kept the flowers by her side, glancing at them now and then, each time feeling a flutter in her heart. She tried to busy herself with other tasks, but her mind kept drifting back to Sam, replaying every gesture, every glance, every teasing word he'd said.
That night, she found herself sitting alone by the riverbank, the soft rustle of the trees in the background. I've fallen for him, haven't I? she thought, finally admitting the truth to herself. But... does he feel the same? Or am I just another city girl passing through his life?
As she looked up at the star-filled sky, Erica whispered softly to herself, "Please, let him feel the same..."