Priscilla's POV
It had been nearly two hours since we took off. My headphones were on, music playing softly, but my focus wasn't on the songs. Instead, it kept drifting to Daniel. He sat beside me, shoulders slightly hunched, typing steadily on his laptop. Headphones rested in his ears, but even with the quiet barrier, I could feel that steady, focused energy radiating from him.
There was something about him, something subtle, the kind of charm you didn't notice at first glance but uncovered slowly, like a secret. Daniel was calm, thoughtful, deliberate. David, on the other hand, didn't need effort; his charm spilled out of him naturally, bold and reckless, like mischief made flesh. The desire to talk to him coursed through me.
"Can I ask you something?" I asked as he worked on his laptop.
"Sure." He nodded, and looked up.
"Why do you and your twin go by Daniel and David instead of your traditional names, Taiwo and Kenny?"
He leaned back slightly, thoughtful. "When we first came to America, we decided to use Daniel and David. It was easier for people here to pronounce and remember."
"Oh, I see. That makes sense."
He chuckled softly. "Though sometimes, it's fun watching foreigners struggle with Taiwo and Kenny." He winked, and I laughed.
"So," I pressed, tilting my head, "what are you working on? A business document?"
He shook his head. "A research paper."
"That's brilliant. Are you a researcher?"
"Associate professor," he corrected lightly. "I'm on leave right now."
"Impressive," I said, genuinely meaning it.
He tilted his head. "And what about you? What do you do?"
"I work at a large business firm in Nigeria," I answered.
"That's good. What's your role?"
"I'm their head financial analyst."
"Nice," he said, a hint of admiration in his tone. "So why are you traveling to America? Business or holiday?"
"Both," I admitted with a grin. "The CEO sent me on a three-day trip, but I've never been to America before. I'm hoping I can spare a day for fun."
He laughed, a warm, easy sound. "All work and no play makes Jack a dull man, huh?"
"Exactly," I said, excitement bubbling up as he winked at me.
"So, do you only teach?" I asked.
His lips curved, almost playful. "No. Actually… I'm a doctor."
My jaw dropped. "What?"
"I am," he said with a casual shrug.
"What kind of doctor?"
"Neurologist. More of a specialist."
"Wow." My surprise must have been written all over my face. "That's incredible. Did you study in America or Nigeria?"
"America. David and I grew up in Nigeria, but when we were in secondary school, our parents won the lottery. We got visas, moved to the U.S., and I studied medicine there."
"That's amazing." I shook my head, smiling. "All this while, I didn't even know I was sitting beside a doctor. So tell me, Doctor Daniel, will you check my brain?"
He laughed the sound rich and unguarded. "Sorry, supposed patient Priscilla, but I only check when there's a real issue in there."
"I'm sure neurologists give great massages. Will you massage my brain, Doctor?" I teased, eyes dancing.
He raised a brow. "My work doesn't cover that, miss."
"Please, Doctor Friend Daniel, will you give me a head massage?" I pouted dramatically, hands clasped in mock pleading.
His lips twitched as though he were fighting a smile. "You're serious."
"Absolutely. I've got a bit of a headache and wouldn't mind a massage from a friend."
He sighed in defeat. "I don't exactly know how to give massages…"
I groaned in mock disappointment.
"…but since you asked nicely," he added at last, "I'll try."
Grinning, I pulled off my beanie and turned my back to him, my heart fluttering at the unexpected turn of the flight.
DANIEL'S POV – Giving massage on the plane
I hadn't expected to spend my flight talking with Priscilla. My plan had been simple: write a little, review my research, and confirm a few surgeries scheduled for when I returned to the States. But instead, she pulled me out of my zone, drawing me into conversation after conversation.
It wasn't that I disliked talking to people, I did. I just wasn't the type to linger too long in casual conversations. Yet somehow, with Priscilla, I didn't mind.
My fingers slipped into her hair almost without thought, gently rubbing her scalp. The action felt strange, even ridiculous, because I had never done this for a woman before. Still, here I was, massaging her head as though it were the most natural thing in the world. Priscilla had a way of making me do things I'd never imagined. She was funny, lighthearted, and unexpectedly easy to be around.
"Mmm, that feels so nice," she purred.
"Yeah," I murmured.
"Don't stop," she sighed, letting out a small moan.
"Whoa, tone it down," I teased quickly. "With words like that and those sounds people are going to assume something else."
She burst into laughter. "Or maybe they'll start paying you for massages right here on the plane."
I chuckled. "Not only am I a professor and a doctor, but apparently also a masseur."
"Exactly," she laughed. "Who knew you had a secret degree in massage? Did you even know?"
I grinned. "Never would have thought one moment like this could make me an experienced, certified masseur."
We both laughed the sound carrying until an older woman in front of us turned around with a sharp glare. That only made it harder not to laugh again.
A few minutes later, the plane grew quieter, and I realized Priscilla had fallen asleep still with my hand resting gently in her hair. Carefully, I eased her into a more comfortable position, pulled a blanket over her, and sat back.
As I leaned against my seat, I let out a slow breath. Today hadn't gone the way I expected, but I couldn't deny it. Spending time with Priscilla had been… fun.
PRISICLLA'S POV – Leaving the plane
A sharp poke at my side dragged me from sleep. I groaned and shifted, reluctantly opening my eyes.
Two identical faces stared back at me one grinning, the other utterly expressionless.
"What?" I muttered, still half-asleep.
"People are leaving the plane. You should too," the grinning one said.
I blinked, trying to gather myself. "Hi," I murmured, studying them both.
With a sigh, I reached for my bag. "Okay, David, give me a minute."
The expressionless one smirked but didn't reply. Instead, he turned and walked away.
"It's Daniel," the grinning twin corrected, rolling his eyes before jerking his head toward the exit. "I'm Daniel, and that was David."
"You're in trouble, Quickie!" I called after him, amused.
Once we had collected our luggage, the three of us walked toward the cab stand. David slipped an arm around my shoulder, flashing me his usual mischievous smile.
"So, which city are you headed to, pretty?"
"California."
His grin widened. "That's where we live too. Babe, it seems destiny brought us together."
I raised a brow. "Funny, I thought you only wanted a quick fling."
Before David could respond, Daniel cut in, his tone clipped. "A friend is coming to pick us up. Do you want to wait with us, or go your own way?"
David winked at me, and for reasons I couldn't explain, I found myself nodding. "I'll wait. Thanks, guys."
Daniel gave a curt nod and wandered off.
"Where's he going?" I asked.
"To get our friend" David replied.
I laughed softly. "This is exciting. Time to find a hotel, and who knows? Maybe I'll fall in love with someone here in America. A white man, perhaps."
David snorted. "You don't need a white man. You need a strong African man."
"Oh, and you think you're strong?" I teased.
He flexed, guiding my hand to his chest with a grin. "Check these abs. Women swoon for them. Feel how solid they are?"
Before I could answer, Daniel returned with another man. Flustered, I pulled my hand away from David's chest.
"Hey, brother," David said, shaking the newcomer's hand. The man was African American, broad-shouldered, with a friendly smile.
"Welcome home, Dave," he replied warmly.
"Maxwell, meet Priscilla a friend we met at the airport. And Priscilla, this is Maxwell, a close friend of ours," Daniel introduced.
Maxwell shook my hand. "Nice to meet you, Priscilla."
"Nice to meet you too," I said politely.
"You're very pretty," he added with a wink.
I laughed. "Thanks."
Before the moment could stretch, David pulled me close again. "Back off, bro. This one's mine. Look somewhere else."
Maxwell chuckled, shaking his head. "Shut up, Dave. I have a fiancée, you know. It was just a compliment, Priscilla."
I grinned. "Quickie's just being dramatic."
Daniel, already walking toward the car, called over his shoulder. "Let's go. I need to be at the hospital early."
Something about him seemed different, quieter, as though he carried a weight the others didn't notice or ignored.
We loaded our bags into the trunk of Maxwell's sleek convertible.
"Daniel, hope you don't mind sitting at the back with Priscilla. Dave and I need to talk," Maxwell said.
"Sure," Daniel replied without hesitation. He slid in beside me as Maxwell started the engine.
For a while, we rode in silence, the city unfolding around us. I glanced at Daniel; he sat rigidly, eyes fixed on the window, headphones on.
I tapped his shoulder. He pulled one earbud out, turning to me.
"Yeah?"
"Are you okay?"
He frowned. "I'm fine. Why?"
"I don't know. You just… don't seem fine. Nervous, maybe?"
"Not at all," he said, voice low. "I'm fine, Priscilla."
He slipped his headphones back on, retreating into silence. I mirrored him, staring out at the unfamiliar streets of Los Angeles.
When we reached the Sunset Tower Hotel, I gathered my bags. The twins gave me their numbers before I said goodbye.
As the car pulled away, I couldn't shake the thought that Daniel's silence had said more than his words.