Precious POV
Coming to New York has always been my dream. And now that I was here, I couldn't believe it. It was even more beautiful than I thought. I stood outside the airport, looking for a taxi to take me to the apartment where I would be staying with my best friend who had arrived two weeks before.
My name is Precious Ifeoluwa Dare. I'm a 23-year-old Nigerian, who had flown almost fifteen hours to be here for my master’s degree program. I wouldn’t consider myself as short, with my 5’4” stature, that’s not short, right? Anyway, I have a coffee skin color with long black hair courtesy of my mother and brown eyes.
I checked the time on my phone and put it back in my pocket. It was a little bit past seven pm making me sigh in frustration because there were no cabs. Can you believe it? The whole airport has no cabs. The sound of my phone ringing snapped me out of my thoughts. I pulled it out of my pocket and looked at the caller ID, allowing a slight groan to come out of my mouth as my mom's name flashed on the screen. Sighing, I picked up the call and kept walking forward, maybe I'd see a cab out front.
"Hello, Mummy" I greeted softly, as I used my shoulder and ear to hold my phone so that I could get my luggage off the pavement.
"Precious, how are you? Have you landed yet? How's the place? How's Funke?" I rolled my eyes as she kept throwing questions at me.
"I'm fine, mummy. Yes, I have landed and no, I'm still waiting for a cab" my voice conveyed my excitement even though I was a little bit jet-lagged.
"Okay then dear, call me when you settle down, bye" I nodded even though she couldn’t see me and smiled at her care. I love my mom, I do, but sometimes, she could be a handful. I kept my gaze on the walking path, and I saw someone coming at me while looking at his phone, and knowing that this person could hit me, I moved to lean over to the edge of the pavement.
"Okay Mom, ..." Before I could finish my call, I suddenly bumped into the person, I was trying to avoid even after trying to go the other way. I'm left shocked. How the hell, did he still hit me?
A sting from my arm made me tear my gaze off the person I hit, as I looked at my arm to inspect, where the pain came from.
"Aaaah, my arm" I squealed out in pain. My arm was drenched in hot coffee and I could feel the pain registering in my mind. I looked back at the guy who bumped into me and told me to watch where I was going.
Angry at this person's lack of shame, no furious, I stomped over to where he was and stood in front of him. I suddenly stopped for a moment and gasped at how handsome he looked. I was a girl, and I do appreciate God's work, so I pretty much can't be blamed. He was about 6'2, with dark brown hair contrasting with his bright blue eyes making them look almost electric. His build wasn't that slender but had the right time of muscles even through his suit.
He snapped his fingers in my face making me remember why I was there. Anger filled my features as I spoke in the calmest, almost icy voice I could muster.
"Uhm, excuse me, where do you think you’re going, after pouring hot coffee on me without so much as an apology? Who does that? Now, look at my arm" I pulled my arm which had already started showing signs of burns on his face but I was just left confused as he stared at me like I wasn't worth his time.
"Listen, you should have watched where you were going. Now if you'll excuse me, I have important things to do" his voice was deep which complemented his look but his face held no emotion.
So, he was a part of the arrogant guys’ club, right? Well, look buddy, you've got another thing coming. He was about to leave when I called him back.
"Hey," I shouted out ever so sweetly. He looked back at me confused when he saw me coming toward him. I positioned myself in front of him, and knowing he wouldn’t see it coming, I rubbed my soaked skin on his white shirt.
"You should at least clean up your mess, right? So, this, is what you get for pouring coffee on me without saying sorry" I said sternly while cleaning my drenched arm all over his suit. Turning my gaze back to his face to see his expression, and once again, I was left confused as he looked at me with a small smirk.
Wait, was he amused?
"Aaargh, arrogant brat," I mumbled and turned to leave when I heard Abbey call me back. That's right, his nickname is Abbey... Arrogant but beautiful eyes.
Hey don’t judge me, I simply love his electric blue eyes, you can't blame me. I was so used to the normal Nigerian black-eyed guys, that seeing this was like a whole new feature. Turning my back, I looked at him, with a questioning gaze.
"Yes?" I questioned sharply but he was still looking at me with that amused expression and I was left shocked by his following words.
Okay, I think, shock was my new emotion.
"I'm sorry," he said in his deep baritone voice.
My eyes scanned his amused one and I just started laughing. Was he kidding me?
Now was that so, hard? My eyes flickered to his, only to see the sincerity in them, however, the sting from my burning hand caused me to flinch and take a step back.
Great, how was I supposed to carry my suitcase now? Still, in my world, I saw his finger-snapping in front of my eyes. I looked up at him angry, at his interruption.
Oh, he has been talking?
"What were you saying?" I answered with annoyance seeping from my tone while he just sighed.
"I said, let me take you to the hospital, it's clear your arm's burning and it's gonna start hurting you" I rolled my eyes at him. Was he bipolar or something? How can he change expressions so fast?
"Are you bipolar?" he looked taken aback by my words but replaced them with a blank look. I shook my head and didn’t give him a chance to speak.
"Anyway, I'm not going anywhere with you," I said, and almost turned my back to him.
"But your arm?" he insisted, still looking at my face. He did look extremely handsome.
Rolling my eyes at my intrusive thoughts, I smiled at him and shook my head. This guy was something and I didn't want to stick around to find out what it was. Maybe, it was the change of environment?
"I'll put some disinfectant on it" I turned to leave but he called my attention yet again.
"What?" I yelled in frustration. Why won't he just let me leave?
"I insist, the hospital is just a few blocks away. C’mon let me take you, I'll pay the bills" I thought about it for a few minutes and it was true, my skin is sensitive and I don’t handle pain very well but it was still a long way before I got home. Before I could even decide, he grabbed my second arm and pulled me towards the car, and told me to enter.
Groaning, I entered the car, hating this helpless situation. He entered the car and took off driving. We sit in silence until he decides to break it.
"What's your name?" he asked, with genuine curiosity, lacing his tone as I kept blowing air on my arm to get the pain to lessen. Did he think I'd answer him?
