I woke up and it was 9:20 AM already. Our flight back home was at 10 AM. And being late today was the last thing I wanted. I put an alarm last night but guess my stupid ass put an alarm for 8 PM not AM.
fuck. why beds are so comfy when you're getting late?
I grunted and went straight to the bathroom. I quickly freshened up, brushed my teeth, and took a cold shower hoping it would shoo away the sleepiness, but it didn't work that much. I was still sleepy.
It was 9:40. Bianca you're fucked up.
I quickly grabbed the first thing I land my hands on in my suitcase. It's a good outfit.
ओह! यह छवि हमारे सामग्री दिशानिर्देशों का पालन नहीं करती है। प्रकाशन जारी रखने के लिए, कृपया इसे हटा दें या कोई भिन्न छवि अपलोड करें।
I put it on. And hurriedly packed my things in the suitcase...or maybe stuffed.
I truly didn't bother myself to put anything on my face, not even a moisturizer. I'm still so fucking sleepy.
And right now, I'm dragging my suitcase behind me as I rush towards the elevator. I check the time.
9:57. fuckkk.
After what feels like an eternity the elevator closes, moves, and finally opens on the ground floor.
I find Mr. Clarke standing at the same place he was standing last night talking to his bodyguards.
I walk towards them.
and how the hell does he manage to look sooo hawt in the morning? Damn! no damn...he looks in not so good mood.
ओह! यह छवि हमारे सामग्री दिशानिर्देशों का पालन नहीं करती है। प्रकाशन जारी रखने के लिए, कृपया इसे हटा दें या कोई भिन्न छवि अपलोड करें।
"Good Morning, Mr. Clarke." I pant.
"Late." He glowers at me before taking long strides toward the hotel exit.
"By just one minute." I say trying to keep my breath steady as I walk to match his pace.
"Just one minute?" He repeats snapping at me. His gaze met mine and we both stopped walking.
bro, why so mad? C'mon, I just started my day.
"Yes-" I cut myself off trying not to piss him off more than he already was. "I'm so sorry, the shower was not worki-"
