When we arrived at the downstairs of Building 8, I got off.
The driver went to the trunk to help me get my luggage out. I pulled my luggage and said to Cheney, who also got out of the car. "Just leave it here, I won't invite you to sit upstairs."
He glanced at me, grabbed the suitcase in my hand and dragged it upstairs.
With previous experience, I am really worried that he will stay here again.
I was busy following up. "I can go up by myself, and it's getting late. You should go back early and report your arrival to your grandparents."
"You are not my secretary, and it is not your turn to arrange my itinerary. Besides, I repeat, don't be a villain."
He pressed the elevator without even looking at me.
I'm guilty. How does this guy know what I'm thinking?
I was embarrassed.
We went upstairs together. I took out the key that had been there for a long time and opened the door.
He pushed my luggage into the house.