Stay With Me

Hwan's POV

The drive to James' apartment was as torturous as I'd expected – full of my horrified screams, Miss Oba's drunk driving and several middle fingers from other drivers.

I was more than happy when we finally arrived, hurriedly getting out of the car to carry James –who was still out cold- into his house. Luckily, his front door was unlocked so I easily gained entrance into the suburban home and lay him on his couch.

After tucking him in and locking up, I returned back to the car where Miss Oba had been waiting the whole time. She didn't bother looking at me as I got in.

"So, your place or mine?"

I nearly did a spit-take. "What?"

Rolling her eyes at my reaction, she proceeded to explain. "Not like that, dummy. I'm way too tired to drive to your place then to mine. Pick somewhere for both of us to crash for tonight. Tomorrow I can return the car and you can go home. Your place or mine?"

"Oh. Thank goodness," I let out a relieved breath. "My place is about an hour and half away from here if we're driving."

"So, my place then. It's about forty minutes. Put on your seatbelt, boy."

"Okay. Just let-"

She sped out of the driveway before I could even respond or put on my seatbelt.

So much for safety first.

-

Hannah's POV

The car screeched to a halt in the underground parking lot of my apartment. I was feeling exhausted from all the partying, driving and most especially convincing the security guards at the entrance that it was me.

I suppose I couldn't blame them.

They were used to seeing only people who drove BMW's and Porsche's live here, not Fords or Toyotas.

Getting out of the car, I barely took two steps before almost collapsing from exhaustion. Quickly rushing to my side, Hwan tried to steady me.

"Hannah! Are you alright?"

"Two things," I managed to mumble despite my condition, "I'm obviously not alright since I'm currently on the verge of passing out. Also, it's Miss Oba to you."

He seemed unfazed by my harshness as he led me to the elevator doors, my body eventually collapsing in his arms as I'm completely out of strength.

The last thing I remembered was his voice mumbling something indecipherable in the background.

-

Hwan's POV

I didn't think I'd be carrying two unconscious drunkards tonight.

After figuring out how to open the security door into Hannah's house – turns out it was fingerprint activated – I carried her up to her bedroom. Upon arriving the room, I did a double take.

Already, her entire house was really expensive and fancy looking with strange gadgets and the whole black and white modern house aesthetic, but her room was the crown jewel.

It had white marble walls and the floor was covered in a furry beige carpet. On one side of the room was ceiling-to-floor windows which covered most of that wall and gave a beautiful view of the city skyline. All the furniture was brown with a gold accent, including her queen size bed which stood in the center of the room.

Perhaps she wasn't lying with the whole "do you know who I am?" thing. Anyone who could afford an apartment like this was royalty.

Gently placing her in the bed, I wondered why she even bothered getting a job when she clearly didn't need it. Was she up to something?

Maybe she was a spy for rival corporations? Or perhaps she was involved in something illegal?

That would explain how she could afford such luxury.

But then again, at the club she said something about being a princess and her father being a governor of somewhere. Was she really a princess?

Shaking my head at the absurdity of it all, I covered her with a blanket and turned to leave when suddenly I was yanked back to the bed. Struggling to break free, I realized that she'd grabbed me by the arm and was refusing to let go, all the while still sleeping.

I tried my best to get her to let go – cooing, prodding and even swatting – but she didn't budge. All I got was an inaudible murmur.

"Come on, Miss Oba," I coaxed in exasperation, "I need to go to sleep."

Making a weird moaning sound, she barely murmured a reply. "Stay."

"What? Miss Oba, I think it would be inappro-"

She yanked me down beside her before I could finish my sentence. Draping her arm across my torso, she snuggled close to me.

"Stay."

Giving in to her strange demand, I relaxed myself in her embrace. Her soft, steady breaths brushed against my neck, acting as a strange but pleasant lullaby for my weary body. Today had been quite a stressful day, taking a lot more out of me than I had initially planned for.

I was tired and needed to rest, so it didn't take much for the cloud-like bed beneath us to seduce my eyes to close.

Before long, I had fallen into a peaceful slumber with Hannah in my arms, and thousands of twinkling city lights keeping watch over us.

-

I'm awoken by the sound of an alarm clock buzzing.

Feeling refreshed from my amazing sleep, I reached out and gently turned it off. Trying to get up, I find Miss Oba's arm and leg wrapped tightly around me. Her face is void of its usual scowl, and in its place is a peaceful expression – slightly parted lips that have a pool of drool on the pillow below them.

I chuckled at how cute she looked when she was sleeping.

You would never think she could hurt a fly. Too bad when she wakes up she's a completely different person.

Gently prodding her limbs off me, I got out of bed as silently as I could. She was probably going to have a hangover from yesterday, so I'd better let her rest. I checked her bathroom for an aspirin and left it by her bedside with some bottled water I found on her desk.

Then I snuck out of her bedroom as quietly as I could.

After freshening up in the guest bathroom, I went downstairs to the kitchen feeling hungry.

Searching her pantry for ingredients, I settled on making pancakes and fruit for breakfast. It took me a while to mix the batter since I couldn't find a wooden spoon in her very confusing, expensive kitchen.

Opting for a whisk instead, I mixed the batter and set a pan on the stove. I began cooking the pancakes after figuring out how to turn on the stove – it was voice-controlled.

I was pouring in the fifth pancake when the doorbell rang. Not sure whether to answer or not, I waited a little. The ringing didn't stop as the person repeatedly pressed the bell.

Still making no move toward the door, I desperately hoped Miss Oba would wake up and receive her early morning visitor.

The ringing continued and eventually led to the person knocking violently on the door. Finally deciding to get it since Miss Oba was clearly not yet awake, I rushed to the door before whoever was knocking broke it down.

I guess I'll have to continue cooking later.

With a deep breath, I opened the door just slightly and peeped out. I was met with the glare of a woman whose face was scarily identical to Miss Oba's. She was decked in an expensive fur coat and gold jewellery, her stiletto-clad feet tapping impatiently.

"Sorry for the wait," I nervously apologized. "Miss Oba's still sleeping and I was making breakfast."

Raising a perfectly carved brow at me, the woman scoffed before pushing past me and entering the apartment. I watched in confusion as she took off her coat and hung it up, before proceeding to sit on the couch. Noticing my puzzlement, she shot me a charming smile.

"Please go tell your mistress I'm here, young man. Or would you rather keep staring?"

"Mistress?" I repeated, confused. "I'm sorry but you're mistaken. I'm not the butler. But I'll go call her-"

"Oh no! Please don't," the woman interjected, an apologetic smile on her face. "How rude of me to assume. Please come sit."

Feeling awkward, I took a seat on the armchair next to her. She was smiling so warmly at me as if I were her close friend, and it made me feel more at ease with her. Clearing my throat, I try to make conversation.

"I didn't know Miss O- I mean Hannah had a sister," I said, choosing to address Miss Oba by her first name. "It's nice to meet you. My name is Junghwan, but just call me Hwan."

The woman laughed in response. "Nice to meet you too, Hwan. I'm Janet, Hannah's mother."

My eyes widened in disbelief. This woman who didn't look above thirty was Hannah's mom?

Incredible.

"I'm so sorry, ma'am. I didn't know you were her mother. Quite frankly, I didn't think you were a mother at all."

"It's fine, dearie. I took it as the ultimate compliment. And please call me Janet. Ma'am is way too serious."

She flashed me an endearing smile, and I smiled in return. She seemed like a nice woman, which was ironic since her daughter was so cold. The only thing similar about them was their appearances, everything else was polar opposites.

"What's that delicious smell by the way? Is that pancakes? I love pancakes."

"Yes, I was making pancakes before you came. Would you like some?"

"I'd love some, please. They smell divine."

Getting up, I headed to the kitchen. "I'll bring them out to you. Although I'd better go get Hannah first."

"No!" Janet yelled, before joining me in the kitchen. She grabbed some plates from the cupboards and handed them to me. "I was thinking you and I could talk a little before my daughter wakes up."

With a slightly anxious shrug, I agreed. "Of course."

-

Hannah's POV

The smell of pancakes woke me up from my dreamless sleep.

Rolling onto my side, I was about to get up from my bed when I caught a whiff of an unfamiliar cologne. Confused, I sniffed the bed only to find it saturated with the same scent. It smelled like detergent and men's body spray.

Did I have sex last night?

Terrified, I checked myself and thankfully my underwear was intact. I also was still wearing the same dress as last night, but my shoes were missing. Trying to gather myself, I thought back to the previous night but all I got were fragments.

All I remembered was getting drunk, driving someone else's car and being with Hwan.

What the fuck happened last night?

Feeling a headache coming on, I sighed in relief when I saw an aspirin tablet and water on my bedside table. I didn't remember putting it there, but I was eternally grateful to whoever did.

Twenty minutes later, I had cleaned myself up and was feeling slightly better. Making my way down the stairs to the source of the delicious smell that woke me up, I heard voices coming from the kitchen. Both voices sounded familiar, but I was too out of it to recognize them.

With the grace of a hippo, I stomped into the kitchen and was greeted by the disapproving glare of my mother and Hwan's curious gaze. Confused, I took a moment to process the sight before me.

My mother was in my apartment. With Hwan. And I was hung over.

Oh shit.

"Mummy, you're here? How? When did you arrive?" I immediately tried to make sense of the situation. Glaring at Hwan who was frying pancakes, I hissed angrily. "Why didn't you wake me up?"

"Why should he?" my mother interjected. "Is he your servant? You're a very silly girl. You go out and get drunk then expect others to baby you! Mumu!"

My face flushed in embarrassment at being scolded, much less in front of Hwan, and I was grateful for my dark complexion which helped conceal it. My mom continued to lecture me while Hwan fried more pancakes, all the while holding in laughter.

I'll deal with the idiot later.

For now, I focused on pacifying my mother. "Mummy, calm down. It's okay, please! I've heard you."

She just hissed in annoyance. "Don't tell me to calm down! I didn't raise you to become a drunkard! I was going to call and report you to your father. If not for your nice boyfriend, eh! You would've been on the next plane back to Abuja!"

My brain only processes the word 'boyfriend', and I scrunched my face in confusion. "What boyfriend are you talking about, mummy?"

"No need to lie to me anymore," she coos excitedly, her face suddenly breaking into a smile. "I know Hwan is your boyfriend."

Cue the fake barf.