Falling in Love with Him at First Sight

"No need," Brandon said calmly, "Your Visa card can only be used abroad; remember to get a different one."

He was so gentle that I could have cried.

But I actually wanted his WhatsApp ID!

……

The suite was really expensive, but it's spacious.

There were even two bathrooms alone.

But the problem was...

Why was there only one bed?

I wandered around, hoping to find a hidden door that would lead to another bedroom.

But no, there was nothing—really nothing.

Brandon remained silent, meticulously disinfecting the doorknobs and floor drains with a spray bottle.

Clearing my throat, I said softly, "Um… I'll sleep on the sofa?"

He glanced at me.

I explained, "There's only one bed…"

He shrugged it off, "You sleep in the bed."

"That would be too embarrassing. You're the one paying for the room."

...

That was all he said before turning back to wash the kettle.

Brandon appeared cold and aloof, and his tone was flat, but it turned out he was quite considerate.

I ran over and pressed down on the kettle he was about to wash. "Don't. The one from the hotel isn't clean. I brought my own!"

I opened my 28-inch suitcase, half of which was filled with snacks and daily necessities.

I had heard that the food during quarantine wasn't great, so before returning home, I splurged on a whole box of instant snacks, along with some hot dogs, sandwiches, and pickled vegetables.

I even packed a foldable water bottle.

It was already past nine in the evening, after the hotel's meal service hours. I asked him, "Are you hungry? Want to share some instant snacks?"

Brandon shook his head and took my kettle.

Gurgle.

Someone's stomach growled.

I looked up at him, and his ears turned slightly red, though he pretended to be nonchalant.

She was so cute.

I chuckled to myself, saying, "Just pretend you're helping me eat. I really don't want to take a bunch of instant snacks home."

After boiling the water, we sat at the table and swallowed the snacks together.

They were really delicious.

After finishing, I collapsed contentedly onto the sofa.

It was getting late, and I planned to wash up and go to bed.

After brushing my teeth and just as I was about to lie down, I suddenly realized a problem.

The blanket—there was only one.

Even with the air conditioning set to thirty degrees, it was still December in the north.

Brandon and I exchanged glances. I gathered my courage and spoke first.

"How about… we sleep together?"

Brandon let out a sigh.

"Aren't you afraid?"

I blinked and said, "What's there to be afraid of?"

...

Brandon looked a bit helpless. "I can do without the blanket."

I panicked. "No way! You paid for the room, and you shouldn't sleep on the sofa or go without a blanket. What if you catch a cold?"

He stared at me, making me feel a little guilty.

I shrank my neck, "Well, even though I really want to give the blanket to you, I'm afraid of the cold."

I raised three fingers to the sky, "I swear, I sleep very honestly!"

He sighed again.

It sounded like he was reluctant. "Fine."

I placed a bottle of water in the middle of the blanket as a dividing line, and we each took our side.

Brandon's breathing was shallow as he slept. I was initially a bit tense, but as time went on, fatigue washed over me, and I fell into a deep sleep.

I had a strange dream.

In my dream, Brandon was a prince from Candyland, his whole body made of sweets. His arms were chocolate, his fingers were vanilla cookies, and his lips were strawberry candy.