The apartment smelled like chamomile and fresh laundry. Sunlight poured through the tall windows, making everything feel golden. Nuong sat on the couch in an oversized T-shirt Jackson insisted she wear—saying she was too skinny for her own clothes and needed to eat more.
Jackson stood in the kitchen, humming something under his breath as he scrambled eggs with flour and milk to make her pancakes. This would be his first time making it follow the instruction through YouTube. The man tried so hard to follow step by step as the video instructs. And sometimes, he has to pause it, to make sure he's doing it right.
Nuong blinked slowly, still not used to the peace.
It was quiet here. No footsteps rushing, no shouted orders, no fear.
Just... breakfast and a warm kitchen.
"Hey, Nuong! Are you hungry now? I made the best pancake for you." Jackson called, tossing her a look over his shoulder.
She smiled, hugging her knees. "You cook?"
"I'm a man of many talents." He handed her a plate with pancakes. " I bet this is eatable. But if not, just tell me, I'll make the new one."
It was a good day. Nuong looked at her foster father, who looked just ten years older than her—like 25. But he's 20 years older than her, and that's why he could adopt her as a child. But how could he look like this?
Her wound still ached, but the pain was less sharp now. Jackson took care of everything—bandages, meals, even the awful paperwork with social services. He called her kiddo and told dad jokes that made her roll her eyes, but… somehow she always smiled.
And then, the phone buzzed.
Jackson looked at it, eyebrows lifting.
"You wanna hear something cool?" he said.
"What?"
"You know the little girl at your orphanage—the one with cancer?"
Nuong sat up, breath catching. "Ya?"
Jackson nodded slowly. "She just got a full sponsorship for treatment. Full hospital care, chemo, everything."
Her hands flew to her mouth.
"She—she did?!"
"Yeah. It came from a certain CEO's family fund. Piseth, right?"
Nuong froze, then stood suddenly. Her eyes brimmed with tears. She didn't know what to say, so she did the only thing her heart told her to:
She ran to Jackson and hugged him tight.
He laughed softly and hugged her back with one arm, the other still holding the spatula.
"Thank you," she whispered, voice shaking. "Thank you so much."
He didn't say you're welcome. He just ruffled her hair and said, "That's what dads are for."
Tears spilled down her cheeks as she buried her face against his chest.
For the first time in forever, she didn't feel like she had to fight alone
That night, Jackson sat on the carpeted floor with his legs crossed, flipping through a book while Nuong sat beside him, her eyes wide with curiosity.
"You see this word?" he pointed, smiling with his usual playful glint. "It's pronounced chaos, not chow-s. I know it looks like food, but it's the opposite—chaos is what your hair looks like when you wake up."
"Hey!" Nuong elbowed him, giggling.
Jackson winked. "You'll get it. One day, you'll be better at English than me."
"I doubt that," she mumbled, her smile fading into something soft. Her fingers grazed the page. "I wish I could've studied more."
He glanced at her, then gently closed the book. "You can now. You're my daughter. You deserve everything, and I'll make sure you get it."
She nodded, resting her cheek against his arm. Before long, her breath slowed, and her body leaned against his side. She'd fallen asleep with the faintest smile on her face.
Jackson looked down at her, heart aching in the gentlest way. He slid his arms under her and carried her to her new bed like she weighed nothing. Tucking her in, he whispered, "Good night, my star," and left a kiss on her forehead.
The next morning…
Pisal entered the staff lounge and spotted Jackson sitting with a thick stack of résumés. The vampire doctor looked like a corpse that hadn't slept in days—ironic for someone who didn't need sleep.
"You look like your soul is missing," Pisal said as he handed him a coffee.
Jackson sighed, dropping his forehead onto the pile of papers. "It is. I'm looking for a part-time English teacher for Nuong. None of these people pass the vibe check."
"Vibe check?"
Jackson lifted a paper and dropped it like it burned. "This one can't even spell 'grammar.' I need someone who's kind, intelligent, and not creepy."
Pisal smiled faintly. "That's… a tall order."
"She's precious to me. I won't let just anyone teach her."
Jackson paused, then looked up, eyes brightening.
"…Are you free?"
"Me?"
"You're the only one I trust." Jackson leaned in. "You're smart, gentle, and patient. Exactly what she needs."
Pisal was taken aback. "I—well, if you really think I'd be helpful, then… I'd be honored."
Jackson grinned like he'd won a lottery. "Then it's settled. I'll drive you home as a thank-you."
In the car, soft music played. Jackson tapped the wheel, humming lightly while Pisal stared out the window, trying to calm the heat in his cheeks. Jackson was, as always, effortlessly beautiful—the kind of beauty that wasn't fair for someone his age. Or species.
"You're quiet," Jackson said, glancing sideways.
"I just…" Pisal blushed harder. "You look… different today."
Jackson smirked. "Different how?"
"Like you're glowing."
Jackson laughed. "Must be the blood I didn't drink this morning."
Pisal sputtered, unsure if that was a joke or not.
"How was Nuong, teacher? Is she doing ok?"
"She's not used to having a father, so sometimes she still calls me Doctor or Uncle. I think it takes time for her."
"Yeah, I think so, too. However, now she has a good father like teacher, nothing to worry!"
"Nah, having a daughter, as a father I always has to worry."
"What are you worrying about?"
Jackson giggled and looked at Pisal, "Her future husband."
"Oh," Pisal murmured. He never thought about that, otherwise, Nuong is just a 16-year-old girl, thinking about her marriage would be a little bit too early.
"Pisal, would you be my son-in-law?" Jackson teased, but Pisal froze, didn't know how to reply. Jackson continued, "Just kidding! But it would be fine if you like my daughter."
They reached the mansion. Jackson leaned over casually, his hand brushing Pisal's to unlatch it.
Pisal froze, eyes wide as Jackson's face got very close. Those eyes… he's always been called the immortal doctor who never aged. His breath touches his skin, Pisal's eyes locked on Jackson's face, his flawless, smooth, perfect face… Pisal blushes. Suddenly, a voice uttered softly, "Pisal," Jackson looked at the man's face, which already turned red because of shyness. But for Jackson, he has no idea what's going on in Pisal's head, or, maybe he thought Pisal might have a fever, maybe.
"There you go," Jackson said softly, clicking the buckle free. "You need to stop panicking every time I lean in. I'm not going to bite… unless you're hiding chocolate."
Jackson stepped out, leaving Pisal red as a tomato. The man was speechless, but tried to keep cool.
Back at home, Jackson walked in with a bounce in his step.
"Nuong!" he called. She peeked out from the hallway.
"I have good news."
She blinked. "What?"
"I found you a teacher." He held his arms out wide. "The best one. My very own student—Dr. Pisal."
Her eyes lit up with joy. "Really?!"
Jackson nodded. "Starting tomorrow. You're gonna do great."
She ran to hug him, burying her face against his chest again.
In that moment, Jackson felt something warm wrap around the cold corners of his heart.