Personal Assistant (MXM - EDITING )

Chapter 17: Next morning

Serene's head throbbed, his eyes burning as he slowly opened them, seeing the dimly lit room. Though it was daytime, no one had opened the thick, maroon curtains. He shut his eyes, groaning at the immediate soreness he felt throughout his body. He gulped, feeling his dry throat, and moist lips, sticky with thick saliva. The lower portion of his body began to ache as he tried to move. His eyes still closed, he rotated his body away from the window, now lying on his shoulder. He was wanting to go back to sleep until he started feeling small breaths hit his pale lips.

He opened his eyes, seeing the tanned male sleeping peacefully next to him. His arms crossed beneath his head as his brown hair spread on his arms. Serene gulped, more harshly. He let out a soft sigh, his eyes moving around the CEO's posture and facial features. His stubble beard traced along his jawline, making the shape of his face sharper and more obvious.

Both the males slept underneath the rose blanket, and the assistant noticed how well-put the blanket was on his naked body - as if someone had placed it on him. Though he still wore his white shirt, unbuttoned, chills still crept over his body and the butterflies that were flying in his stomach didn't help with the situation.

Seven inhaled deeply, closing his eyes, doing his best to stop himself from hyperventilating and start thinking about how he was going to leave the room without waking up his boss.

Opening his eyes again, his head started pounding again, the space between his eyebrows hurting as if needles were being stabbed into him. His stomach clenched. His throat started feeling warm, and bothersome, his body was giving him all kinds of flags of sickness.

Slowly moving the blanket off of his nude pale body, his legs trembled and his lower half ached as he applied pressure to sit up. Seven started feeling uneasy and discomfort as he pulled his legs out of the bed and touched the cold, wooden floor, and suddenly, he felt an instinctive urge to vomit.

Now sitting on the bed, his pale legs out off the mattress, he gazed at the floor, looking at his pale, cold feet. His eyes trailed off toward his clothes that were thrown on the floor. Seven couldn't move. Even if he wanted to, his lower half ached with every movement he attempted. It felt like he was getting punched in his abdomen.

Seven took a small breath, clenching his hands to a fist as if the next step he was going to take was going to feel like a bullet in his skin. He fell to his knees, not wanting Nicolas to wake up and see the assistant butt naked in the room. Even if he wasn't drunk last night, it'd be embarrassing if Nicolas woke up next to his assistant before work.

He landed hands first on the wooden floor, his bare knees sending goosebumps throughout his skin as the cold floor touched his skin. Seven heard the man on the bed groaning, causing his heart to race, fearing that Nick would sit up and find his assistant on the floor. He kept his hands in a fist, his nails pressing down on his palm, hoping the boss wouldn't wake up.

After a minute of no other movement, Seven gulped his anxiety down, reaching for the first piece of clothing that was in front of him: his boxers. Sliding them on while on the floor was no struggle. Though, hearing Nicolas' snore softly bumped Serene's urgency, wanting to leave the bedroom as quickly as possible. He leaned to the right, sitting against the bed, grabbing his pants. For this, he stood up slowly, eyeing the CEO on the bed, making sure the man wasn't awake already.

Seeing Nicolas on the bed, now turned to Serene completely, lying on his stomach, hugging the pillow underneath him... Serene felt at ease. He didn't know if it was because Mr. Anderson was asleep, or because seeing Nicolas asleep soundlessly was pleasing. His heart pounded, causing him to get out of his daydreaming stance and start putting his pants on. He tiptoed around the room slowly, the small creaks of the wooden floor giving Seven anxiety. Lying at the end of the bed was the overcoat that he grabbed.

And taking one more glance at Nicolas, his cheeks burned, biting his lower lip at the thought of what had occurred last night. Seven sighed, turning his face to the door, and stepped towards it.

...

Rushing down the stairs, Seven took a quiet approach, making sure that if anyone was in the house, he wouldn't draw their attention. Safely escaping the building, the fresh, cold breeze connected with his snowy skin, the layers from the sun making him squint at the driveway, seeing only Nicolas' vehicle. He relaxed a bit, throwing his overcoat over his shoulder. His belt was unbuckled, his shirt was wrinkled and his socks weren't even put on - he shoved the pair into his pant pockets.

So much for professionalism.

Seven walked slowly towards Nicolas' car which was parked in the driveway, taking his phone out from the pocket of his overcoat that hung around his neck like a scarf. His legs trembled, and his lower half still felt sore. Standing against the vehicle, Seven held his phone, but gazed at the house in front of him, feeling uneasy.

Like he was forgetting something.

His eyebrows pressed together as he squinted his eyes at the front door as if he could recollect what he was overlooking.

However, an idea crept behind his head like a bug crawling on a person's skin:  Maybe Nicolas had already woken up.

Seven didn't hesitate, looking down at his phone again and dialing a number. His breathing was steady, keeping himself calm and collected. Despite the situation, he was in, he felt like he was in a vulnerable spot. If Nick was awake, Ochoa would be noticed. If the chairman came home any minute now, he'd see Seven in such an irresponsible state.

"Hello?" a raspy voice sounded from the other line of the phone. A voice way deeper than Emilee's and it caused Serene to pull the phone away from his ear to recheck the contact name, seeing "Emilee" on his screen. Seven brought his phone back to his ear, gulping, "Uh, Emilee?"

"This is Sam, her brother," the male corrected, "Who's calling?"

"I'm Seven. Is Emilee there?"

The voice didn't respond for a few seconds. The assistant kept his gaze on the front door, making him feel an urgency to get out of the house's driveway, "Hello?"

"Seven," Sam answered, "Emilee is eating at the moment, but she and I would like to know why you called."

"Can you just pass me to her?" the assistant asked, almost fiercely. His forehead throbbed, making Seven close his eyes and reach for the bridge of his nose, trying to rub out the tension and pain he felt. 

Sam groaned from the other side, the sound distancing itself as if the phone was being separated from the male's hands. What followed was Emilee's light voice, "Seven?"

"Em! I'm stuck at the house party and I need someone to come pick me up." Serene swallowed, straightening his back, "My boss and I got in a situation and... I don't want to see him at the moment." Seven's throat felt rough when he gulped again like something was blocking his windpipe.

Sam's voice echoed in the background, "He wanted you to drive a car with the condition you're in?"

"Shut it, Sammy!" she whispered, "Yeah! Sam and I will be there. Just send us the address!"

"What!" Sam shouted. Emilee giggled, "See you in a bit."