•<The Storm>•

   Heavy rains and thunderstorms to set
the mood.
You can press play if you wish to.

•<>•

Falling Like the Stars by James Arthur has been playing repeatedly and I must say, it's not helping. I'm so tensed up I can't stop playing thumb war discreetly beneath my tote bag, and after driving for a couple of minutes, we've finally reached our destination....his apartment.

Despite the blurriness on the windshield, I'm still able to see bits of the place. It's illuminated by orange lights that are stuck all over the building.

The yellow lights glowing from lampposts add a touch of brightness to this place, and they circle what looks like a water fountain that's right in the center of the apartment complex.

I then turn my head to the side but the fog and tiny raindrops on the window have blocked me from having a clear view of this place. However, I can tell just from the building complex that this place is luxurious and high-priced.

"We're finally here," he says as he steers the wheel to the right and leads us to an underground parking garage.

After passing through the lobby and taking the elevator, we finally make our way to an empty hallway that is monochrome and has huge wooden doors with big plant pots on the side.

He takes his keys out and just as he's about to open the door, he turns his head to me.

"Don't ever tell anyone where I live." He asserts confidently, his voice striking a balance between steadiness and authority, "Do I make myself clear?" He adds and I nod instantly.

When he opens the door, my eyes fall on the beautiful view of what's in front of me. His apartment looks so extravagant and lovely. I wouldn't say it's damnably huge but it's quite spacious. It's a combination of marble and wood, so ravishing words can't describe. It's beautiful, so luxurious and cozy for a man who lives alone I assume.

As I walk in, I instinctively move to the side, silently observing him as he casually places his car and apartment keys into the small, woven round basket on top of the table.

My gaze roams the room, and I'm continuously captivated by the sheer elegance and charm of his place. The pristine white walls amplify the radiance within the apartment, bathed in a warm blend of yellow and orange light filtering in from outside.

"Come," his voice causes me to whip my head to him, "You'll need to change into dry clothes before you catch a cold." He says as he leads me up the stairs, and I trail behind while silently drinking in the view I can't seem to tear my eyes away from.

When we get to an empty bedroom, he walks to the closet to look for something.

He then pulls out two robes, moisturizer and hands them to me. "I keep some of my clothes in here." He utters while passing the garments to me, "You can take a hot shower and change into this while you wait for your clothes to dry."

Upon taking them from his grasp, I remain silent and offer a confirming nod. I wouldn't say the effect he has on me has dissipated because my heart is still racing at our proximity, and I can barely formulate a word. The only difference about today is that I'm not as a big bowl of a mess as I usually am whenever I'm around him for some reason I don't quite know.

"Let me know when you're done changing so I can come and get the clothes and put them in the dryer." He says with his hand resting on his waist.

Gosh, I can't get enough of that British accent.

"You don't have to," I reply, "I-I can do it myself, you've already done enough for me."

"I wasn't asking." He states firmly and those piercing eyes knock the wind straight out of me the second they land on me.

I'm so screwed for sure.

As he makes his way toward the door, right before his hand reaches for the doorknob, I say something that prompts him to pause and turn toward me.

Lowering his gaze briefly, he gently pinches the bridge of his nose before shifting his attention back to me, "Sure, I should have a spare charger."

He then reaches for the doorknob and takes a glance at me, "I'll be right back."

When the door is finally closed, I travel my eyes around the room. Graciously taking in the simplicity and yet fine beauty of this room.

Suddenly, I jolt back to reality upon realizing that Ethan, I mean, Mr. Myers – will return shortly to deliver the charger and collect my drenched clothes. Swiftly, I slip into the robe, and before long, a knock at the door startles me.

Inhaling deeply, I answer, and as he enters, his gaze immediately falls upon my chest but quickly averts, as if he's uncomfortable with what he's just seen.

When I shift my eyes to my chest, embarrassment engulfs me upon noticing that I'm not completely covered up, a quarter of my breast skin is exposed and this prompts me to cover it.

Shit.

What makes this even worse is that my hair is still dripping wet and droplets of water continue their descent — tracing a path from my face all the way down.

Who knows what he's thinking of me now; that I'm some desperate horny student that's trying to seduce her professor. Well done, Mal, how are you going to explain yourself?

"So sorry about that, I-I didn't -"

While he keeps his gaze averted from me, he extends the charger, his response seemingly oblivious to my previous statement. "You can hand me your clothes."

When I hand them to him, he hardly glances at me before walking out and shutting the door behind him.

Crap! I've traumatized him, haven't I?

Entering the shower, I relish the sensation of the warm water cascading over me, like a gentle rain as I push my ginger hair back — revealing my face. Despite the soothing feeling, my thoughts drift to Key and Autumn, they must be worried sick about me due to the ongoing storm that's wreaking havoc upon the city as if it were the end of the world.

A sudden, deafening clap of thunder startles me and prompts me to quicken my pace when I realize how dangerous it is to be in contact with water when lightning strikes.

That was so close.

When I'm done moisturizing my body, I grab the robe he gave me and just as I'm about to put it on, the power abruptly cuts out —plunging the place into complete darkness.

This is one of the many reasons I hate storms.

In an instant, the power is restored, and I exhale a sigh of relief. Glancing at my phone, I realize there's no cellular signal or Wi-Fi, which means I can't even contact my friends to reassure them of my safety.

I wonder if Keyara managed to reach home before it started raining.

After minutes of dressing up, I amble down the stairs and catch sight of him in the kitchen. It's an open-concept kitchen, hence it's easy to see what's going on even when you're in the living room.

As I get closer, I get a better view of what he's doing and a smile tugs at my lips partially when he offers me a cup of tea.

"Thank you," I say humbly while I take a seat on one of the kitchen stools.

He doesn't say a word but smiles politely as he takes a seat across from me with his arms spread out.

Now that the rain has subsided, these walls are no longer echoing with the sound of raindrops pouring down heavily, instead, it's just awkwardly silent.

He takes a sip of his tea and straightens up, his eyes now turned to me — piercing through me like lasers while I sit still.

Feeling nervous, I open my mouth to speak hoping this will be of help. "I just want to say thank you for-for everything you've done for me today," I place the cup carefully on the table and continue, "I honestly don't know what I would have done had-had you not being there." I let out a nervous chuckle as the words slip from my lips.

"Not a problem," he takes another sip and adds, "Hope you're feeling warm now."

"Yes, I am." I nod. Suddenly, I'm hit with a big realization of what happened.

How did he know it was me? I was facing down, and it was pouring heavily, anyone could hardly see anything from afar, so how did he spot me?

"How did you see me?" I ask bluntly and he immediately shifts his eyes to me, looking bewildered.

"I beg your pardon?" His thick eyebrows arch as his expression displays nothing but bewilderment.

He's still confused, isn't he?

"A while ago when you spotted me walking in the pouring rain on the streets, ha-how did you recognize that it was me?"

He leans back as he displays an incredulous smile in my direction. "What is this all about?" He folds his arms over his chest, "Are you implying that I was following you?"

"No, no, no gosh no." I cup my cheeks in shame. "Gosh this came out the wrong way." I can feel embarrassment painting my cheeks red, and tormenting my heart to thump harder.

He then leans in closer and fixates his inquisitive eyes on me — eagerly waiting for my response, all while maintaining that smirk on his face. I can tell he's enjoying this.

"So what are you trying to say, Miss Wright?" He asks with a firm and alluring tone in his voice.

I hate it when he does that, but more so, I hate how my body responds to it.

"I was, I was just umm," I emit a sharp exhale hoping to ease the built-up tension within me. Crap, I've forgotten what I wanted to say. "You know what e - it's fine, forget I said that."

"Coincidence," he says out of the blue, and I look up at him. "It was a coincidence that we were both in the same store. I saw you at the end of the aisle grabbing some things from the shelf." He sits up straight and clears his throat, "When I saw somebody walking helplessly down the street I wasn't certain whether it was you or not until I got closer, and it was at that moment that I decided to help."

"Okay," my voice comes out faint, "I didn't mean to say that you-"

"It's fine," he interrupts before drinking his tea and I do the same...feeling embarrassed.

"Have you been able to call your friend? Keyara?"

"No," I shake my head. "I haven't been able to reach her because of the bad network."

He doesn't say a word, instead, he pours more tea into his cup and begins to drink it. I'm not a tea person, to be honest; I prefer a hot cup of chocolate with whipped cream and marshmallows on top, especially in this kind of weather.

I can imagine myself all covered up with a warm blanket with a cup of hot chocolate on the side while the girls and I watch a good movie or show on Netflix, but this is okay too, I don't mind being here with him despite the Myers' effect I get whenever I'm around him.

However, I really miss the girls so much.

"Now that the rain has subsided." I place the cup down before proceeding to speak, "Is it safe to drive now? I think I've overstayed my welcome."

"Am I complaining?" His eyes meet mine again. Crap. "Anyway," he exhales sharply, "I guess so." He then gets up from his seat to rinse his cup, "I suppose your clothes must be dry by now, I'll go get them."

I watch him exit the room and as soon as he's completely out of sight, I facepalm myself for sounding so ungrateful. First of all, I accused him of stalking me when it was just a coincidence and now I made it look like he didn't like my presence.

Well done, Mal, you've done it this time.

A few minutes later, he reappears holding my clothes, and hands them over to me after closing the huge space between us. After expressing my gratitude once more, I hurry upstairs to change before swiftly descending the staircase.

After collecting my groceries, he locks the door behind us, and soon we're inside his car. As he drives out of the underground garage, we both notice that the rain has resumed its heavy downpour. However, he remains undeterred, continuing without hesitation.

When we reach the gate, the security guard stops us from leaving because of how unsafe it still is to drive especially now that the rain keeps increasing. Unable to argue with him, he turns his car around and starts driving us back to the garage.

"Well, there doesn't seem to be much I can do about this." He states while his gaze remains fixed on the pouring rain.

In all fairness, he's right. The ground is now covered in water puddles, glistening under the downpour, and the windshield remains blurry despite the windshield wipers working furiously

He then parks his car and takes his phone. "Security is very serious here when it comes to things like this, I don't think they'll let me out. Let me try getting you an Uber." he says as he runs his fingers all over his phone screen.

Minutes go by and it's still silent, and awkward. "I haven't been able to find any that's available right now," he says as he briefly massages the back of his neck, "Perhaps-"

"It's fine," I interject, "Maybe I should wait a little longer, I wouldn't want to risk my life all in the name of wanting to go back home." I chuckle nervously, "It's just that," I inhale and exhale deeply, "I'm worried about my friends, I've never been away from them in times like this unless I'm back home with my parents, which I'm not...so this-this is new to me."

With his eyes still on me, he nods his head subtly, "It's new for to too." When I turn to look at him, he swiftly shifts his gaze away from me and fixes it on the windshield.

"Since I came here, I've never spent stormy nights with anyone." He then reverts his strikingly gorgeous eyes to me. "This is a new experience for both of us, we're here stuck together unexpectedly and...apparently," he lets out a sharp exhale as he speaks — his voice tinged with a hint of defeat, "There's nothing we can do about it."

I hate to admit that he's right, there's nothing we can do to overcome the storm that has unexpectedly brought us together. We're here, stuck together for the night, in his apartment and there's nothing I can do about it.

As much as I would have loved to leave, for my sake and to spare myself some shame because of what I feel for him, I can't; this is out of my control and all I can hope for, is that this night better not go south.

AN

✨I'd like to get to know you briefly but you can skip this question if you want to.

- How do you feel about stormy nights, do they frighten you or not? (they do, ngl😅)

- And Also, what do you prefer...tea or coffee? (I can't pick one, love them both😌)✨

                                   ***
Thank you so much for getting this far, much appreciated. Don't forget to vote, comment and share. It'd really be nice to hear from you and your honest opinions/thoughts about the story.
🧡🤎