His Lovable Klutz (Completed)

Segment Twenty-three.

♥ And... Stay Out! ♥

      Coby woke up the next day feeling like a truck had run over her head, then reversed for good measure. The throbbing in her skull was relentless, and as she pried her eyes open, the sunlight streaming through the window felt like an assault. She groaned, rolling over and nearly falling off the bed. Her head felt like it weighed a ton, and each movement sent a fresh wave of nausea through her.

      Dragging herself out of bed, Coby stumbled to the bathroom, splashed cold water on her face, and tried to get a grip. She looked at herself in the mirror, wincing at the sight of her disheveled hair and dark circles under her eyes.

      "Great," she muttered. "I look like death warmed over."

      After brushing her teeth and pulling her hair into a messy ponytail, she made her way to the kitchen. The moment she saw the time on the microwave, she gasped.

      "12:30 p.m? Oh no!" She couldn't believe she'd slept in so late.

      Panic setting in, Coby scrambled to get lunch started, rushing around the kitchen like a whirlwind. She was sure Stefan would be annoyed, even though he hadn't exactly been the friendliest person since she'd met him. As she chopped vegetables and stirred pots, she kept glancing at the clock, wondering if he was already upset about her tardiness.

      Once lunch was ready, Coby set the dining table with precision, everything perfectly in place. She stood back, surveying her work with a critical eye before heading upstairs toward Stefan's room. She hesitated for a moment, then knocked on his door.

      "Mr. Reynolds? Your food is ready," she called out, trying to sound chipper despite her pounding headache.

      Silence.

      Coby frowned, knocking again, a bit louder this time. "Mr. Reynolds?"

      Still nothing. She bit her lip, her earlier panic starting to morph into concern. Was Stefan upset about the game last night? It hadn't been that big of a deal—he was mature enough to handle a simple question, wasn't he? Coby shook her head, trying to dismiss the thought. He couldn't be that petty.

      As the day dragged on, and with no sign of Stefan coming down to eat, Coby's concern grew. By late afternoon, she found herself back outside his room, knocking on the door again.

      "Mr. Reynolds? Are you okay?" she called out, a bit more urgently this time. When there was still no response, she sighed in frustration. "Suit yourself," she muttered under her breath, turning to leave.

      The hours ticked by slowly, and by 8:40 p.m, Coby was pacing the living room, worry gnawing at her. Had Stefan left early in the morning without her noticing? Maybe he wasn't even in the house. She was just about to go check when she heard the front door open.

      She rushed to the entryway, her eyes widening in shock at what she saw. Stefan was being practically carried into the house by a woman in a short, tight red dress that clung to every curve. She was wearing high heels and a small purse with a gold chain strap that dangled from her forearm. Stefan's shirt was half unbuttoned, and he was slumped against the woman, clearly drunk out of his mind.

      The woman struggled to get him into the living room, her stilettos clacking against the floor. Coby quickly moved to help, but the woman waved her off with a tight smile.

      "I've got it, sweetie," she said, her voice saccharine as she maneuvered Stefan onto the couch. He flopped down, instantly falling asleep, his head lolling to the side.