"And this is your room!" Jiyong’s mom squeals excitedly, pushing the door open to reveal a small, cozy bedroom.

The walls are a soft, cream color and there is a big window that lets the bright afternoon sunlight lighten the room. Standing centre of it is a queen-sized bed draped in a cream quilt and accesorissed with hundreds of colorful, decorative pillows, and sitting at each side of the bed are two wooden bedside tables with old-looking lamps sitting on each of them.

"This is so lovely, imo," I smile, dragging my suitcase next to the bed as my eyes dance around the room. Jiyong’s mom brings the other suitcase next to the one I'm holding and props it up onto its wheels.

"There's also a bath tub," she informs me, opening the wooden door and flicking on the bath tub's light switch. "Is there anything you need?" she turns back to me, "Any toiletries, food...?" she trails off and raises her eyebrows questioningly.

"No, I'm good, thank you," I smile.

Satisfied, she departs the room, allowing me some time to settle in. I flop onto the bed and sink into the mattress; breathing in the fresh coconut scent of washed sheets.

Staying in this house will be a breeze. Well, with one monumental exception, that is - Jiyong. However, that might not be such a problem if I can somehow get him to open up to me. It'll be hard work, I imagine.

For the next ten minutes, I begin to unpack my suitcases; placing all my clothes into the wooden chest of drawers. I then put my makeup bag and toiletry in the bathroom, a laptop on my bedside table, a clock and photo album on top of my chest of drawers, and a tired me plopped on my bed.

Once my heart beat has slowed to a normal pace and I don't feel like I'm going to pass out any second, I sit up and grab my laptop. I haven't done much work over the week, which means that I have a fair amount of homework and assessments to complete - especially since it's four weeks till the end of school and our teachers have ever-so generously decided to make all assessments due within the same week.

I hear muffled talking outside my room and freeze as I try to make out what they were saying. I could see two shadows under the door.

"But what the hell is she doing in his room?" I recognize that voice as Jiyong's, and he sounded very, very angry, "She's not allowed in there. No one is, you know that."

"Don't do this here," his mom hushes, "Come on. I know that, Ji, but-"

"No. Don't try to make excuses. She just barges in here like she freaking owns the place and takes his damn room!?" Jiyong's voice raises an octave and then I hear him exhale a shaky breath.

"Keep your voice down," his mom hushes.

"Unbelievable," he scoffs, "Un-ing-believable. You don't care, do you? She's just a replacement. You always wanted a girl, huh mom?"

"Don't."

They both fall silent and after a few long moments I hear a sigh, and then footsteps walking away; one shadow under the door disappearing while the other stays in its place for a few moments longer before walking away, too.

I sit there for a long moment in thought. From what I can gather, Jiyong has a brother, and this was his brother's room that he didn't want me in. My mind starts to drift off as I wonder about the different possibilities, but I immediately shake my head to clear my thoughts. I had to get working.

So I do.

I get to work and by the time I'm finished, it's 7pm. I wriggle my sore, cramped fingers and hop off the bed, relieved that all the urgent work is out of the way. I head into the bathroom to take a much-needed shower - being sure to lock the door. I then undress and get scrubbing. Minutes later, I step out of the shower and into a cloud of steam, wrapping a towel around my body. When I swing the door open, I almost scream at the sight of Jiyong in my room.

"Oh... Hello Bom," I breath, my heartbeat still fast.

"Dinner's ready," he mutters, and then his eyes travel down my body to which I realize is only covered by a small towel.

Oh Goodness.

He stands up from my bed, a cocky smirk on his face as he walks to the door. Just as I think he's about to leave, he turns to me, "You look like a drowned rat." And then he slams the door shut.

"W-well you look like a greek God!" The w