Our Home?

The next day, I went to the office. In the middle of my work, Lehan texted me:

"Don't leave after work. Wait for me at the entrance."

So, like the obedient person I am (or maybe just curious), I waited for him. And waited. And waited some more. He finally showed up, looking a little frazzled.

"Sorry, I had to finish up some work. That's why I'm late," he said.

"It's okay," I replied, though I secretly wanted to charge him a late fee.

We got into his car and started driving. After a while, he stopped the car and said, "Get out."

I blinked at him. "Excuse me? Is this a kidnapping?"

"Just get out and guess where we are!" he said, grinning like a mischievous child.

Turns out, we were at his grandparents' house.

"Why are we here?" I asked, utterly confused.

"Grandma wanted to see you," he said casually.

Now, let me tell you something. If Grandma wanted to see me, couldn't she have just, you know, called or invited me over? Why involve him as the messenger? I had so many questions.

We went inside, and Grandma greeted us in her usual sweet way. (Seriously, if sweetness were a competition, she'd win gold.) Their cook, who is equally sweet, prepared coffee for us. We sipped on it while chatting.

Then Grandma decided to drop a bombshell.

"So, when are you moving in here?" she asked, all nonchalant.

I choked on my coffee, spilling it everywhere.

"What did you just say, Grandma?" I stammered.

Grandma turned to Lehan. "You didn't tell her, did you?"

Lehan scratched his head. "Not yet."

Before I could process what was happening, Grandpa joined us.

"Lehan said you're planning to move out of your dorm," he said. "No need to search for a house. Just move in here. It's only me and Grandma, and we'd love the company. Lehan only drops by occasionally. And if you're worried about him bothering you, I'll ban him from the house!" He laughed heartily.

Their offer was so kind, but I wasn't sure how to respond. They kept trying to convince me, and honestly, I didn't have a lot of options. House-hunting was a nightmare, and staying here did sound convenient.

So, I finally gave in. "Okay. I'll move in tomorrow," I said, though part of me still felt like I'd been ambushed.

Guess who was the happiest about this whole arrangement? Yes, Lehan. He was practically glowing with joy. I had no idea why he was smiling like he'd won the lottery, but there he was—grinning like a Cheshire cat.

The next day, I moved into Lehan's grandparents' house by taxi. I felt a little anxious, questioning if this was really a good decision. My brain was a whirlwind of thoughts when Lehan popped up out of nowhere, interrupting my overthinking session.

"Come check out your room!" he said, excitement written all over his face.

I followed him, and when I opened the door, I froze. The room was drenched in pink. Baby pink. The walls, the furniture, the curtains—everything. It was like Barbie had exploded in there.

"What… is this?" I muttered, trying to process the bubblegum invasion.

Lehan beamed. "I know girls love pink, so we arranged it just for you!"

I stared at him, utterly baffled. "Uh, I don't love pink that much…"

But honestly, as much as I wanted to protest, there was something oddly comforting about it. The pink overload awakened my inner child—the one who secretly adored all things fluffy and bright. I felt happy, but I also couldn't stop wondering: why are these people so kind to me? Am I even worthy of all this love and effort?

As I stood there, lost in thought, Lehan snapped me out of it.

"What are you thinking about? Let's move your stuff in already!"

Before I could respond, he started hauling my things into the pink wonderland of a room. And just like that, I was officially moved in.

He excitedly grabbed my hand and dragged me to another room.

"Check this out! This is going to be my room," he declared, grinning from ear to ear.

I stared at him, completely stunned. "Wait, what? Are you serious? I'm moving out if you're staying here! This was not part of the deal!"

He burst out laughing, clearly enjoying my mini meltdown.

"Relax, relax! I was just kidding. I just wanted to see your reaction. You don't need to panic!"

I let out a dramatic sigh, pretending to wipe sweat off my forehead. "Not funny, Lehan."

But then we both ended up laughing, the tension melting away. Sometimes, I wondered if he enjoyed stressing me out on purpose—or maybe that was just his twisted sense of humor.

Lehan was about to leave, and I was left alone in my new pink kingdom. My first day in that house felt like a mixed bag—both happy and nerve-wracking. What if I ended up annoying his grandparents? What if they started wishing they'd never invited me? My brain was spinning with what-ifs.

And then, of course, my thoughts drifted to Lehan. Why does he always smile at me and act all goofy around me? I mean, in the office, he's this no-nonsense, strict officer. Even with his grandparents, he doesn't seem particularly close. But with me? He's like a whole different person—soft, innocent, and oddly endearing.

The more I thought about him, the more questions popped up. Why is he like this with me? Why do I care so much? And… hold on, why am I always thinking about him?!

Determined to stop this madness, I told myself, Nope. That's it. I'm not going to think about him anymore.

Guess what happened next? Yep, I ended up dreaming about him. My subconscious betrayed me.

In my dream, I had this bizarre realization: I don't even feel worthy enough to reject him! And at the same time, I don't have the confidence to accept his love either. Basically, I'm a walking paradox, stuck in my own tangled emotions.

The next day, I went to the office from my new house, and honestly, it felt great. Being with Lehan's grandparents kind of filled the void of missing my own family. It was warm, comforting, and just what I needed.

During lunchtime, my entire team gathered in the cafeteria as usual. Out of nowhere, Lehan showed up. Without a word, he walked straight to me, handed me a key, and said, "It's our house key. Keep it with you. In case no one's home, you can use it."

Then, like a drama hero, he just turned and walked away, not sparing anyone a glance.

The cafeteria went dead silent. All eyes were on me.

"Our home?" one of my colleagues finally blurted out.

Another chimed in, "What's going on between you and Lehan?"

I wanted to disappear. Poof, gone. Why does he do this to me? Every. Single. Time. It's like he enjoys putting me in these situations. My brain was screaming, How am I supposed to handle all these people now?!

I gave a nervous laugh, mumbled something incoherent, and stuffed a bite of food into my mouth—classic move to avoid answering. Meanwhile, my team kept staring at me, clearly waiting for an explanation I didn't have.

I already told you guys, didn't I? I'm close with his grandparents. I visit them often, so they asked him to give me the spare key. That's all!"

Somehow, I managed to spit out this half-baked explanation, praying it would satisfy my nosy colleagues. They seemed to buy it—well, most of them. A few were still giving me suspicious looks, but I pretended not to notice.

Once the interrogation was over, I sat there fuming. Lehan, why do you do this to me? Seriously, every time, he puts me in these awkward situations and then waltzes away like nothing happened.

I mentally rehearsed all the ways I'd confront him later:

Option 1: Yell at him.

Option 2: Ignore him.

Option 3: Throw the spare key at him and dramatically storm off.

But knowing me, I'd probably end up doing none of those things.