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"Mi amigo," Ibarra says, looking at Fidel with a worried expression, one that resembles too much of an older brother tired of his siblings antics, "now that we have discussed our plans...Should we ask miss Klay about her.. affairs with this unknown man she was singing about a few minutes ago?"
Fidel and Ibarra were already done discussing their plans about the school, though by God cursing him for whatever reason, the young maiden that Fidel utterly despises — and perhaps have grown fond of, though hed rather be shot dead than admit that — was singing before their planned talk.
It was surprising. Of course it would be, which was also unsurprising, because it was Klay of all people! and Fidel still wonders how many surprises that woman has under her sleeve — because when did she even learn to play a guitar as well?
And not only that, her voice was soft compared to her nagging sandpaper of a voice. It wasn't as delicate as the angelic voice of Maria Clara, or as gruff and masculine as any other guitarists in Las Filipinas, but more or so just a mix of both. It felt unique just like her entire existence. Which is why a part of him, one he wants to lock away somewhere in a deep dark vault forever — wishes to hear her sing again.
Though what truly surprised him was her song. As ear piecing (—ly beautiful) her voice was, what kind of mad-woman would openly sing about committing infidelity? In this country of all places!
"Ah, that." Fidel replies, feigning formality by mimicking Ibarras troubled expression.
"I dont mean to jump to any conclusions," His eyes narrow and frowns, face almost in a deep scorn, "but I want to know if this man is even worth it for Klay to commit such crime, and im concerned that this horrid man could be toying with our friends feelings."
Wait,
What?
Is his friend truly that oblivious? Surely he's smart enough to notice how Klay would always look at him with such longing and endearment in her eyes (He swore he must look like her if he could see himself in someone else's body, but he'd rather be shot just to restate) that it's almost impossible to pass by as anything else but romantic? Surely he picked up on the fact that the song mentions a man in a relationship already, and surely he picked up that he's the one with the fiancee out of the three?!
Maybe its the wine, or maybe he's just jealous, perhaps both — that his friend is just that good of a man that Klay would go about and openly sing her feelings even if it could get her killed just barely minutes ago.
"Amigo," Fidel looks to Ibarra, eyes giving away concern. When he realizes that it's directed at him, the sudden urge to run into the woods nearly overcame him. "Are you alright?"
"I'm alright, amigo." Fidel gives out a small nod and a shaky sigh, trying to forget his line of thoughts from earlier. "I was just thinking about this... man as well. And the well-being of our friend."
Ibarra hums at the response and drinks a bit of his wine. "Should we confront Klay about this?"
"Well, if your pretend-cousin concerns you this much, then we should." Fidel sighs once more and drinks the last bit of his wine, well, atleast tries to — as he realizes halfway that he already drank all of it because of his damn thoughts. Mierda. Half of him hopes that all that wine would intoxicate him enough that it lets him forget that the woman hes completely smitten for is completely smitten for his friend. "We can't let her get arrested because someone happened to understand what she was singing anyways."
"I suppose you're right," the corners of Ibarras mouth quirked up to form an amused smirk, "Let's go inside and talk with miss Klay."
Both men stood up from their chairs and eventually made their way inside the estate.
—
Klay was sweeping the floors alone in the living room while humming her favorite opm song.
Mang Adong already left to get some groceries, the other workers were tending the gardens or doing other household chores, which left her alone with nothing else to do other than clean.
It was already past afternoon and she was greatly enjoying the atmosphere. Everytime noon passes, the sun gives the room a bunch of lovely hues of yellows, oranges, and reds, which made her etching for her phone sometimes just to take one selfie.
Her humming comes to a stop when she hears the sound of two pairs of footsteps entering the room.
"Ay!" Klay brightens up seeing the two men, "Sir Ibarra, Sir Fidel, is there something you need?"
Her face gradually falls when she sees Fidel sucks in a breath and looks away with a grimace, and she becomes even startled when Ibarra looks at her with a deeply worried expression.
"Miss Klay," Ibarra says with a stern voice, one he'd use to scold her whenever she does something stupid. Oh no. What did she do now?
"We were wondering if.. you could tell us more about this man you were singing about earlier."
Wait.
What.
"Sir." Klay nervously laughed, glancing at the nearby window with a now overwhelming need to jump, "Could you repeat that?"
"We heard you singing about a man, Miss Klay." Ibarra clarifies, staring at her in utter disbelief, "We do not mean to intrude in any of your relationships. But, to sing about commiting infidelity? It greatly worries me!"
Ohh
Okay,
Shit.
"Oh my god." subconsciously, she drags her hand across her face.
"Miss Klay," Ibarra spoke firmly this time, the tension on his voice not as strong as before, "I deeply apologize if I sounded exasperated, as well as.. my outburst earlier. But as your friend, I want to know if this man is truly worth to commit something against the law of God?"
If she were foolish enough, she'd giggle at the absurdity of the statement.
Fidel turns his head to look at her. Both of their eyes were boring down on her now, it feels almost intimidating, almost.
"Sir you heard— okay. Wait," She stammered. already flustered at the fact they heard her sing. Klay wonders if Ibarra liked it but she immediately shakes the thoughts out or else she'll do something stupid like flutter her eyelashes and asks 'did you like it atleast Sir aha aha' and dig herself a deeper grave so instead she looks at the two men firmly, "Sir, before you think of anything else— it's just a song. A random song from where I'm from."
Fidel gives out a shaky sigh. Klay takes a mental note on the fact that he looks more bothered than Ibarra. Does he have some kind of stick up in his ass? What's up with him?
"Klay, were not asking why you chose the song," He clarifies, "But because you were, quite literally, singing about wanting to love a man already in a relationship. You're lucky we're the only ones who heard."
She groans. Alright, this was already annoying her than it should have.
"Sir," Klay starts, nervously tapping on her broom, "I truly mean it when i say its just a random song. I sang it because it's my favorite, and I dont have any underlying feelings to admit. I dont know why you're being so overdramatic about it!"
"So you just randomly sang it?" Ibarra questions, eyes bordering on relief, as absurd as it does.
"Yes!" She exclaims, "Is there something wrong with it?"
It looks like she answered it wrong, because Fidel audibly groans, and Ibarra mutters something that sounded too close of a 'Madre mia'. Men. Why are they always so dramatic?
"Miss Klay.." Fidel rubs his temples together, already growing irritated, "You're aware singing is a way to confess your love to someone, right?"
"Yeah?"
"And, we assume — you were singing a love song?"
"Yeah..?"
"So we came here, because we were concerned, if you were just confessing your love on someone, who already has a lover. Because again — singing is a way to confess! You were just confessing that youre inlove to a man already promised to another! Are you this unaware that you could get killed for that?"
Oh.
"Ohhh."
She forgot she's in Noli Me Tangere.
"Sir." She drew her hand down once more. This was already getting ridiculous, "I really do mean it when I say its just a random song. I'm not gawking on anyone! I'm not promiscuous!" She spits the last word harshly. Ibarra stares uncomfortably, and she swears she could see dusty red growing on Fidel's cheeks.
And it looks like she answered right, because Ibarra's shoulders sag in relief, and Fidel doesn't look like he's as constipated as before.
"Alright. we believe you, Miss Klay." He gives a fond smile and walks towards slowly, "We deeply apologize if we were ill-mannered. Just — be careful of what you're singing, alright?" He leans forward slightly before whispering, "I was starting to worry that I might have to fight a man who could be toying with your heart."
Before klay could sputter anything out, Ibarra began walking back to the gardens.
"He's concerned about my love life?" Klay murmurs to herself.
Before Klay could fully turn around and go back to sweeping to forget what had transpired, a cough from behind catches her attention.
"Your voice is akin to a fork scratching a chalkboard," Fidel states with a mischievous smirk, and an indescribable glint in his eyes, "Same goes for your singing. But personally, I think you should sing more."
Before she could bash the broom on Fidel's head, he already ran out of sight hastily.
"Hoy!" She yells, "Come back here or I'm going to bash this into your thick skull!"