Her Only One - Omar Rudberg fanfic

When he helped

She watched the busy Stockholm streets from Omar's passenger car window. 'Take a right here, it'll be that big blue building.' He took a right. She wasn't sure what to feel as they parked in front of the hotel. Should she be scared of what would happen at the hotel, grateful that she got help, or absolutely euphoric at the fact that she was with Omar?

She stepped out of the car and Omar was by her side within less than a second. He locked the car and looked at her. He saw her nervous expression. 'It'll be okay.' He reassured her. They walked into the hotel together, towards the front desk. The receptionist was on the phone with someone, and she held up a finger to indicate that they should wait. Roxeanne and Omar glanced at each other. Something in his eyes calmed her slightly. He brushed the back of her hand with his fingers and he leaned slighy closer to her. 'It's going to be fine.' Her stomach fluttered. She had the sudden urge to stroke his face, find out how soft his skin was, but she resisted it.

The receptionist hung up and turned to them. She had abnormally large glasses and bright red lipstick. She said something in Swedish. 'What?' Roxeanne said. The receptionist frowned. 'No Swedish? Okay. What do you want here?' 'I-' She began, but Omar cut her off. He was talking in Swedish to the woman and she could only pick up a word that sounded like rum. The woman looked flustered at all the words and walked away. 'What did you say to her?' Roxeanne asked. 'I told her to get us the manager so we can sort this out.' Roxeanne smiled. 'Thanks.' He returned her smile, and for a moment they just stood there, smiling at each other. They snapped out of it at the sound of approaching footsteps. A short, fat man was walking with the woman. She sat back down behind the desk, but the man, Roxeanne assumed he was the manager, approached them.

'Roxeanne Kleimans?' He was extraordinarily intimidating for his height. He looked like an angry buffalo about to charge. Roxeanne could practically imagine the smoke coming out of his ears. 'Yes, uh-' She began. Omar put his hand on her arm gently and looked at her. 'I'll do it.' She nodded, feeling incredibly thankful for the fact that she wouldn't have to deal with Mr. Bull. Omar began speaking to him in Swedish, and Mr. Bull's face only seemed to grow redder. They began arguing. Omar's hand was still on her arm. It felt so soft and warm, even though his voice was so angry. She found herself moving her hand up to his and holding it. She felt safer when she had a part of him to hold on to. He squeezed her hand reassuringly. He would take care of it. She squeezed back.

'Roxeanne?' Omar said. She looked at him. 'He says there's no avoiding it. I tried my best to convince him you shouldn't have to pay and to let you keep the room for the rest of the week, but he's very stubborn.' Roxeanne could feel the panic rising inside her. 'But I have a solution.' He said, seeing her panicked look. 'I'll pay the money, and you can sleep at my house.' She could barely believe it. Stay at his house? She was beginning to feel quite happy about her epic-fail hairbrush karaoke. But for him to pay for something she was responsible for? 'I can't let you spend that much on me, it's-' He cut her off. 'It's fine, seriously. I have enough to spare.' She smiled. 'Thank you so much for helping me.' He smiled back at her and pulled her in for a hug. She was beginning to get used to that sweet smell.

They broke apart, Mr. Bull was standing there grumpily. He looked at Roxeanne. 'Empty your room.' Roxeanne nodded. Still holding Omar's hand, she walked to the elevator with Omar. They only had to go one floor up, but her room was at the end of the hallway. She let go of his hand to reach for the key, and unlocked the door. She was the kind of person who kept most of her things in her suitcase while she was on holiday, so she didn't have much to pack. She walked towards the en suite to get her things she left there, and Omar followed. Once they were both in the bathroom, he asked, 'Why exactly did you- oh.' He had spotted the shattered mirror and the blocked toilet. She winced. 'It was an accident. Well, they were two accidents.' She began packing her bathroom items and grabbed any things left in the hotel room, putting those in her suitcase too. They went back downstairs together, Omar paid and Roxeanne returned the key. When they walked out, they grinned at each other. As Omar walked to his car door, he said, 'Next stop, my house.'