Hwan's POV
I adjusted my collar for the millionth time.
For the past fifteen minutes, I'd been sitting in a booth at Rein's Diner waiting for Candy to arrive. It wasn't like she was late – our date was scheduled for 8:00 pm and it was only 7:40 pm, but I just happened to be a weirdo and arrived almost an hour early.
My nervousness got the best of me, okay? Get over it.
Deciding to do something to pass the time, I pulled out my phone and opened Google. I'd been curious to know more about Hannah and her kingdom. Typing in her name, I went through the articles that popped up.
Her kingdom was called the Afi Kingdom, and it was one of the most mysterious and undocumented places in her country.
Her father was a prominent Nigerian politician and businessman, currently serving as the Governor of a state there. With a net worth of over 4 billion dollars, the Oba family owned several shares in multiple international companies.
That meant they were worth more than even Terrence Inc. which was a measly 2 billion in comparison.
Why on Earth did she need a job again?
Surprisingly, there wasn't much about her personal life – just a handle to her government-run Instagram. I'd expected her to have some sort of scandal or drama in her life, considering the kind of person she was.
Maybe a celebrity beef, moral misconduct or a crazy boyfriend. But her record was uncharacteristically clean.
Google made her look like a nice person.
Shrugging, I tapped on a picture of her at a beach party and before you think I'm a pervert, she was fully clad in a sundress. However, she looked different.
Her face was lit up with the biggest smile, her countenance radiating pure joy. She also seemed much younger than she was right now, probably about fifteen.
It was strange to see, but Hannah looked genuinely happy in the photo. I wonder what changed.
"Somebody's occupied."
Looking up to see Candy, my jaw instantly dropped. Wearing a denim jacket with a white lace camisole and white jeans, Candy shyly shuffled her black ankle boot-clad feet, twirling her matching black bag nervously.
She looked amazing.
"Whoa," I managed to choke out, getting up to greet her with a smile. She extended her arms for a hug and I happily obliged, enjoying the warmth.
Taking our seats, she offered me a knowing grin. "You don't look bad yourself, Hwan."
Looking down at my attire, I had to agree with her. I was dressed in a dark green hoodie, black jeans that were ripped at the knees and my favourite white sneakers. I accessorised with non-prescription glasses – those cute little round ones that were popular on Instagram.
"I've got to impress, right?"
"Colour me impressed then."
Sharing a laugh, we proceeded to order. She went for a burger, fries and coke while I ordered an extra-large chicken sandwich and chocolate milkshake.
"Ugh, I hate chocolate," Candy mused as our food arrived. "Why would they put it in a milkshake?"
Casually taking a sip from my milkshake, I shrugged. "I like chocolate. I think it's an interesting flavour."
"How so?"
Stopping to think about it, I wrack my brain for a suitable answer. Why exactly did I like chocolate?
"I guess I've never really thought about it. To me, chocolate has a rich flavour. It's not too sweet but yet it isn't bitter. It's the right blend of both.
"It's not plain like vanilla, or overwhelming like strawberry or lemon. It's just perfect. Not to mention, its colour is absolutely mesmerizing."
She was staring at me when I was done, her brows raised in puzzlement. "Wow, you really like chocolate."
"Yeah," I chuckled nervously, running my fingers through my hair. Not wanting to weird her out any further, I moved the topic away from my chocolate obsession.
"What's your favourite flavour?"
"Call me crazy but I like banana."
"Banana? You hate chocolate but you like banana? Girl, you crazy!"
"No, I'm bananas!"
We both laughed for the second time this evening, and any trace of nervousness I previously had was gone. Who knew Candy would have such a calming effect on me?
As we ate our dinners, exchanging conversation and a few flirty glances, I realised that Candy was so much more than what met the eye.
Her real name was Candace Sherwood, and she was an animal lover, a trained gymnast and knew how to drive a truck. When she was little, she dreamed of being a ballerina, but now her dream was to travel the world and retire to a small hillside cottage in her old age.
She was fun, spontaneous and warm – a definite catch by any measure.
But much more than that, Candy was a genuinely wonderful person that I'd love to get to spend more time with.
Hopefully, I would.
-
"So, what's your favourite place?"
I pondered that question as Candy and I strolled through her neighbourhood. Being a gentleman, I had decided to escort Candy back home safely.
No way was I letting her walk alone at midnight on the crazy streets of New York.
"I like a lot of places. For now, I'd say Gracie's Flower Emporium."
"You like flowers?"
"Who doesn't?"
Laughing, her eyes twinkled with mischief. "I can think of one person. Remember that girl who you saved? She seems like she'd hate flowers."
"You mean Hannah?" I questioned, not entirely agreeing. "Maybe, maybe not. I think she'd like a very specific flower. Probably roses."
"How would you know?"
"I don't. Just a wild guess."
She rolled her eyes at that, silently treading beside me. Gently grabbing my hand that was swinging by my side, she slipped her own into it unsurely. Noticing this, I gave her a reassuring squeeze and she squeezed back, a blush on her face.
She wasn't the only one though.
And hopefully, I was not the only one with a racing heart.
-
Hannah's POV
Hollow.
That was the only way to describe how I felt right now.
You'd expect after downing more than half a bottle of vodka from my mini-bar I wouldn't be able to feel anything, but not even alcohol could save me from my despair.
How frustrating.
I gulped some more of the stinging liquid, already drunk out of my mind. My sobriety wasn't helping much, so the least I could do was drown my sorrows in gin and whiskey.
There was nothing to lose after all.
Suddenly craving some whiskey, I threw away my bottle of vodka and it smashed to a million pieces somewhere in the distance. I attempted to grab the whiskey which was on the top shelf, but it was too high up and I didn't have a step stool – I'd smashed it a few moments earlier in anger.
Frustrated, I popped open a fresh bottle of vodka from the lower shelf. Putting the bottle to my lips, I slowly fell to my knees, my eyes red and puffy from crying.
This was all his fault.
Everything was all his fault.
Why did he come back now? Why did he find me? Why didn't I finish him up when I had the chance?
Bursting into tears at the memory, my chest violently constricted in pain. I just couldn't deal with this, at least not right now.
I needed someone.
Slowly crawling to my sofa, I picked up my phone. I was too drunk to read any of the names on my contact list, so I just selected any random number and called it. The line rang four times before a male voice answered.
"Hello?"
"He f-found me," I whispered, barely able to make a sentence. "He's c-coming for me."
"Who's this? This better not be a joke"
I suddenly recognized the voice. "Hwan?"
There's a silence on the other side before he finally speaks up. "Hannah?"
"He'll r-ruin me, Hwan."
"Who will ruin you?"
"He's coming."
"Hannah, calm down. Are you drunk?"
"I'm trapped. There's no escape."
"Where are you, Hannah? Are you at home?"
Mumbling incoherent nonsense, my eyelids began to grow heavy. "Help-"
That cry didn't leave my lips as I fell into oblivion.
Peace at last.
-
Hwan's POV
I was on my way back from Candy's place when I got Hannah's call.
At first, I thought it was a scammer until I remembered everyone exchanged numbers during the company hangout. And though her voice was slurred and coarse, I knew it was her.
I could recognize her voice anywhere.
She sounded drunk and distressed, rambling some gibberish I didn't understand.
All I could take away was that she needed my help.
As quickly as I could, I ran to the subway and took the first train to her neighbourhood. After about thirty minutes, I finally arrived at her apartment building and thankfully, the guard still recognized me and let me in.
The elevator ride up to her place couldn't have felt any slower, and the moment I reached her floor I made a mad dash to her door. Pushing it open, a gasp escaped me at the sight I found.
There Hannah was, sprawled out unconscious on the floor, a bottle of vodka in hand.
Rushing to her side, I cradled her limp body in my arms. Checking her pulse, I'm thankful it was still beating as I moved on to examine her breathing. She didn't appear to be in any life-threatening danger, but she was completely out of it.
Why on Earth did she let herself get this drunk in the first place?
Gently lifting her up, a sense of déjà vu overwhelmed me as I carried her from the glass-littered floor all the way to her bedroom. Placing her on the bed, I couldn't help but worry for her.
Did she drink like this often? Was she an alcoholic? Was she going through some kind of crisis? Did she need help? Why did she call me to help her?
That last question weighed heavy on my mind, but I chose not to dwell on it too much. Instead, I focused my attention on tucking her in.
After I was done, I sat by her side and watched her sleep, wanting to make sure she was okay.
Judging from her facial expression, she definitely wasn't.
Unlike the last time I saw her sleep, she looked very tense. Her face was scrunched in distress, her fists tightly gripping the sheets.
She moaned something inaudible and her body jerked in what I believed was fear. Her arms began flailing about violently, as if she was trying to push something away.
She seemed genuinely terrified.
Panicked, I attempted to calm her down. "Hannah, please calm down! It's just a dream!"
The princess didn't respond to my pleas, so I reached out to touch her arm but she knocked my hand away in her frantic movements. Frankly scared, I began to shake her in a bid to wake her up.
But all that just seemed to worsen her fright, her movements becoming even more hysterical.
Fearing that she might hurt herself, I quickly wrapped my arms around her, holding her in place. She gasped in fear at this, so I gently blew on her ears and neck in a bid to soothe her.
This didn't come without a price though, as my jaw, chest and arms were not spared by her painful blows.
By tomorrow, I would certainly have bruises all over.
Despite the ache, I held her tightly in my embrace, softly blowing on her ears and neck until eventually, she began to calm down. Rubbing small circles on her arm with my thumb, she gave a grunt of pleasure, relaxing further in.
Her breathing slowly returned back to a steady pace, her morbid expression softening with each rise and fall of her chest. Soon, the princess was sound asleep in my arms.
Although I was hurting from all the hits I took, I didn't really mind her weight on me. Her curvy body felt really soft and warm against my larger frame, and I found it strangely comforting.
She seemed to enjoy cuddling me as well, as she snuggled even closer, wrapping her arm around mine.
A small smile graced my lips as I watched her sleep on my chest, my legs enveloping hers in a protective gesture.
Though I wasn't sure why, I wanted Hannah to know that she was safe with me. I would protect her from whatever she was afraid of.
That was a promise, one friend to another.
Dr. Terrence was right after all – Hannah really was something. I just had to figure out what exactly it was.
Feeling exhausted, I let my eyes flutter to a close. And for the second time, I fell asleep to the soothing melody of Hannah's breath beneath a million shimmering city lights.