You held your head, the throbbing pain a testament to the hangover you were feeling. The ache in your body was also a reminder of the previous night's events. You slowly scanned the room, realizing it wasn't your own.

You scrambled out of bed, surprised to find yourself in a shirt and boxers. You walked out of the room, stunned by the sheer size of the house. As you descended the stairs, a maid approached you.

"The boss is calling for you," she said. You swallowed hard and followed her.

You were shocked to see who the maid was referring to. It was your stalker, the same man you had spoken to at the bar the night before.

You walked towards the dining table and sat down. You remained silent, watching as the maid filled your plate with food. Once she finished, you slowly began to eat.

You could feel his gaze on you, and then he spoke.

"Did you sleep well?" You nodded slowly.

"How old are you?" Your brow furrowed, but you answered.

"19, you-"

"31. Will you marry me?" You choked on your food, staring at him with raised eyebrows.

"You're so old-"

"You slept with me, so why not marry me?" He rolled his eyes, making your jaw drop.