I had just returned to work, but they immediately buried me under a mountain of tasks. It felt like I only slept for five minutes, then woke up and—boom—it was Monday again. No different from my school days. Now here I am, riding a jeepney with blueprints in my arms, heading to see my boss, who supposedly got sick and couldn't come to the office.
So of course, it's me again who has to adjust.
And obviously, I'll go to him no matter what planet he lives on. Damn it, I'm starting to regret even trying to find his house. It's so far! It took me two rides before I finally reached his subdivision. The first thing that greeted me was an old security guard.
"Do you need something, miss?" he asked.
I peeked through the gate, hoping to catch a glimpse of Francis—but he wasn't there. I walked closer to the guard.
"Ah, Francis Locan lives here, right?" I asked, glancing again at the house.
"Oh, Sir Francis. Why? Do you have an appointment with him?" he asked again.
"I'm his secretary. He's sick and couldn't come to work, so I came to bring these," I said, showing him the stack of papers I was holding.
"Hold on a second, I'll call him," the guard said, fiddling with his phone. A few moments later, the big iron gate slowly opened.
"You can go in now," he said.
"Ah—wait, would you mind taking me there?" I asked.
"Sure," he offered, and I quickly agreed. The place was enormous; I'd definitely get lost on my own. As we walked past the other houses, one thing popped into my mind—everything looked luxurious. These weren't houses; they were mansions.
"We're here. Just ring the doorbell, miss. I'll head back now," the guard said as I thanked him.
I straightened the papers in my hand before pressing the doorbell. I rang it several times, but no one answered. Was no one home? Where the hell was Francis now?
When I accidentally brushed against the gate, it slowly creaked open. Okay… weird. Why wasn't it locked? Instead of overthinking, I decided to go in.
And wow—my jaw dropped. The garden stretched wide, and the second floor of the house was almost entirely made of glass. I could see straight through to the elegant interior even from outside. Damn. Must be nice to be this rich.
I reached the massive front door and knocked—but it opened on its own.
"Sir?" I called out as I stepped inside. The living room was enormous. So he lives here all by himself? Must be nice—arrogant but rich.
"Sir Locan?" I called again, but there was no reply. "Sir, I brought what you asked for," I added, still no response.
"Hey…"
I froze when I felt warm breath on the back of my neck. Shit. My skin prickled as someone rested his head on my shoulder. I turned around—and screamed.
It was my boss. Red-faced. And shirtless.
In my panic, I stumbled backward, nearly sending him crashing to the floor, but thankfully, he caught himself on the edge of a table.
"Sir, are you—" I couldn't even finish my sentence when I realized what I was seeing. He wasn't wearing a shirt! He had shorts on, sure—but still! Damn it! I quickly turned around, my face burning hot.
"What is wrong with you?! You knew I was coming, and that's what you're wearing?!" I stammered, both embarrassed and annoyed.
"Can you just… be quiet? I need your help," he said weakly, his voice hoarse.
"Uh… what do you need me to do?" I asked uncertainly. Before he could answer, there was a loud thud. I spun around—and found Francis collapsed on the floor, pale as a ghost.
I panicked instantly. I hesitated for a second but rushed to his side. "H-hey! Sir! Francis, wake up! What's wrong?" I shook him gently until he groaned.
"M-my room…" he murmured.
"Huh?" I leaned closer.
"Take… me… to my room…" he said between shallow breaths.
"Wh—where?"
He pointed weakly at the staircase. My heart pounded.
Oh, great.
With no other choice, I half-lifted, half-dragged him upstairs. He was heavy as hell, and by the time we reached his room, I was drenched in sweat. I laid him on the bed. His forehead was burning. A moment later, he even threw up.
I grabbed his phone and tried calling every contact I could, but no one answered. Perfect. Just my luck.
I tried calling Ms. Gada next—busy. "What now, Gianna?"
I sighed and grabbed a towel, dampening it before wiping his face. Great. I was officially a babysitter now. I couldn't even look directly at his bare chest, so I rummaged through his drawer for a shirt and carefully dressed him.
Then I went downstairs to search for medicine. Luckily, I found some. When I returned, he was half-awake.
"Here, take this," I said, handing him the glass of water. He swallowed the pill without a word.
"Did you get caught in the rain or something? You're burning up," I said, but he ignored me. Unbelievable.
"Maybe I should just take you to the hospital," I offered, but he shook his head.
"No," he muttered before drifting back to sleep.
Fine. Be stubborn then!
I sat quietly for a while, watching the heavy rain pour outside. "How am I even supposed to get home now…"
It was almost one in the afternoon. I tried calling his contacts again, until finally, someone answered.
"Hey bro, sorry, I'm in a meeting. Talk later—" Click.
"Wait—" Too late.
My phone rang again—Gael.
"Hey, what's taking you so long there? What are you even—"
"Help me," I cut him off.
"What happened?"
"It's Francis. He's burning up. I can't reach anyone. I don't know what to do."
"Idiot! Then take him to the hospital before something happens!"
"He won't let me! I tried, but he refused."
"What? Why?"
"I don't know. He's too proud. Ugh. I don't even know if I can go home tonight."
"Then stay there. Watch over him. You can leave once he's okay. You can't just abandon him."
"Fine. I'll call you later," I said, hanging up.
I cooked porridge in the kitchen and made some coffee. Hopefully, this earns me a raise.
I went back upstairs with the food. "Eat something. You haven't had lunch."
He shook his head. I sighed in frustration. "Just eat! The sooner you recover, the sooner I can leave!" Still silence.
"Seriously? I cooked for you and you're acting like a spoiled kid? Are you eating or do I pour this over your head?"
Silence again.
"Fine! Starve then! I'm leaving!"
Just as I turned to go, he grabbed my wrist.
"Fine. I'll eat. Just… don't leave me alone."
I froze, then handed him the bowl. But he just stared at me.
"What?" I snapped.
"I'm too tired to use my hands," he muttered.
I shut my eyes and took a deep breath. Was he serious?!
"You'd better give me a raise for this," I grumbled, scooping up a spoonful. "Open up."
He obeyed. A few minutes later, the bowl was empty.
He reached for the coffee. "Seriously? Is this supposed to be milk?"
"For your information, I couldn't find any in your gigantic kitchen. You live here alone, remember?"
He fell silent after that.
When I finished cleaning up, I sat on the sofa and must've dozed off. The rain was still pouring hard outside.
I woke up to the sound of him groaning. He was shivering, trembling under the blanket. I quickly turned off the air conditioner and adjusted the covers.
"Are you okay? Feeling any better?" I asked.
"Please don't leave me… please."
He gripped my hand tightly.
"I'm not going anywhere," I assured him.
"Akeshia… please stay with me."
I froze. Akeshia? Who the hell was that? His ex?
"I'll just sit over there," I said softly.
"N-no… please," he whispered.
"I'll just be right here. I'm not leaving," I repeated.
I tried to pull my hand away—but he suddenly pulled me into his arms.
My eyes widened as he held me close, tightly, desperately.
And at that moment, I couldn't tell whose heartbeat was racing faster—his or mine. It was loud, wild… and unbearably warm.