Returning from studying abroad, as soon as I landed, I was taken by bus to quarantine.

On the way, I overheard the elderly folks gossiping about the experiences of those around them in quarantine.

Some were brought to luxury rooms costing over 150 dollars a night, while others ended up in shabby motels for a few bucks, and there were even some who were taken to unfinished rooms.

Listening to their stories made me nervous, and I found myself tugging at my clothes anxiously.

Suddenly, the person next to me coughed twice.

I looked up in alarm—coughing isn't exactly popular right now!

But to my surprise, the guy next to me was quite handsome.

Despite most of his face being covered by a mask. His eyes, which were visible, were really beautiful.

I couldn't help but stare at him for a while, causing him to furrow his brow and say, "Let go."

I replied, "Huh?"

He pointed at my hand.

As I followed his gaze, I realized I was holding onto the hem of his coat, pulling it towards me with force.

"Sorry, my mistake," I muttered.

He gave a nonchalant nod and ignored me.

Meanwhile, I started searching for information on quarantine procedures on my phone and before I knew it, we had arrived at the hotel.

The place looked decent, which eased my mind a bit.

I politely let the elderly folks disembark and queue up for check-in first, and then I got off the bus with the handsome guy sitting next to me.

It had been over four hours of hassle, and the night had fallen completely. The winter night up north was quite cold, so I wrapped my scarf tighter around me.

Little did I know, after waiting in line for half an hour, as it was about to be my turn to check-in, the staff started running out of room keys.

When it came to the guy in front of me, there was only one key left.

I overheard them saying they needed to relocate the remaining people.

I remembered what the elderly folks on the bus had said about unfinished rooms, and I felt like crying right then and there.

After all the hassle, feeling tired and hungry, this was just too much. Just as I was feeling down, the handsome guy next to me said, "Sorry about that..."

Without thinking, I rushed forward and grabbed his hand, interrupting him, "We're together, we'll share a room!"

The staff looked at the two of us and asked, "Are you a couple?"

I nodded vigorously, but the guy didn't react much.

I tugged at his sleeve and looked up at him with a pitiful expression.

He stared at me for a few seconds, his eyes as deep as a cold pool, making me feel uneasy.

After a while, he finally spoke, "Yeah, we're together."

The staff seemed relieved, "Oh, there happens to be one suite left, it's a bit pricey, do you mind?"

"I don't mind!" I quickly replied.

The guy glanced at me again, and I whispered in his ear, "Don't worry, I'll pay for it!"

He didn't say anything.

When we checked in, we both handed over our IDs.

He looked good even in his ID photo.

I deliberately glanced at his name—his name was "Brandon White."

"It's 2,680 dollars for 5 days. Will you pay by card or cash?"

"Card!"

I eagerly inserted my credit card into the POS machine, and smiled at Brandon.

"Sorry, it seems like this card won't work."

The receptionist was a little embarrassed, and so was I.

"How could this be happening? I still had a credit limit of four thousand dollars."

"Why don't you try again?" the staff suggested.

He tried again, but it still didn't work.

I scratched my nose, "I'll pay in cash then."

Before I could open my pocket, Brandon handed his credit card to the staff.

"Use mine."

The front desk swiftly swiped the card, as if afraid we wouldn't pay.

I tried to save face, "I'll transfer you the money later."

"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.

I accidentally crossed into his country and couldn't believe they were all candy people.

He extended his arm and let me take a bite.

I looked at him suspiciously, hesitated, and then bit down.

It was really chocolate-flavored.

I stepped back and stared at him.

What's this, good enough to eat?

He said, "Do you believe me now?"

I said, "I don't believe it unless you let me take another bite."

He said, "Okay, where do you want to bite?"

I acted like a hooligan, hugged his neck, and took a bite of his lips.

Why isn't it strawberry flavor?

"Hiss!"

Brandon pushed me away.

"Did you take your temperature?"

I heard someone calling outside and opened my eyes drowsily.

Brandon was propped up above me, with flushed cheeks and wet lips, as if he had just been bitten.

What the hell? I thought.

Right now, I just wanted to explode on the spot, feeling ashamed and embarrassed.

He calmly got up and pulled my arm out from under the blanket.

The electronic thermometer beeped.

37.1°C.

He was left speechless.

I immediately said, "Listen to my explanation!"

He smiled, "Okay, explain yourself."

With him being so cooperative, I didn't know where to start.

The hotel staff was still waiting outside, Brandon glanced at me and then "shot" me in the forehead.

37.3°C.

He frowned and asked me, "Do you feel feverish or anything?"

I didn't react and just blurted out.

"Just my face feels a bit hot."

Thinking about the dream and my actions, I felt really embarrassed.

He paused, didn't say anything, and turned to put on a mask and talk to the staff at the door.

I saw that the tips of his ears were a bit red.

"It's a bit over 37 degrees, no other symptoms, probably just because I just woke up..."

He patiently explained to the staff.

I listened to the conversation outside, and scenes of him propped above me involuntarily floated in my mind.

But that was too much.

I couldn't help but bury my face in the pillow and kick excitedly.

Damn, Sarah Johnson, you're really something! I thought.

Right now, I felt a mix of excitement, shyness, embarrassment, and guilt, not to mention how complicated my feelings were.

Then Brandon came back and saw me having a fit on the bed.

He seemed to have chuckled softly and asked me, "Are you sure there are no symptoms?"

I immediately stopped moving like a dead fish.

"No."

"Okay, your nucleic acid test was negative yesterday, so there shouldn't be a problem."

After that, we both deliberately avoided what happened in the morning.

I thought we would just spend the next three days calmly and then go our separate ways.

Unexpectedly, on the third day, I started showing symptoms.

At first, I just felt a dry throat, thinking it was because the air conditioning had been on all the time; later, I started feeling dizzy.

The staff came to take my temperature, and it was 37.8, a slight fever.

The nucleic acid test results came out that night, and as expected, I tested positive.

And in the evening, the front desk called the bedroom's landline.

Brandon picked it up.

By then, I already had a hunch and kept my distance from him, always wearing a mask.

He listened quietly to the person on the other end and only responded with a "Hmm."

After hanging up the phone, he looked at me.

"You..."

Seeing that he was hesitating to speak, I understood.

I thought I was lucky, but I didn't expect that I would really fall into the "trap".