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Is there anything more drastic and stressful than your parents paying you a visit out of the blue? I don't think there is. Although they don't mention anything about my house whenever they come, I know that they internally judge it. So here I am now, scrubbing each and every tile in the kitchen area, trying to make it as spotless as a kitchen floor could be two hours before their arrival.

"What are your parents like?" Prem asked, still sat on the bar stool in front of the counter.

"Chaotic." I said, chuckling a little although it's not much of a joke. I could see at the corner of my eye Prem's feet dangling and swinging from the stool as he sat there patiently, as if some obedient child waiting for his food in a restaurant. He insisted on helping me tidy up but I declined his generous offer. He is my guest and I don't want to drag him in this tedious process. "Especially my mom."

"How so?"

"She's like a combination of me and my brother, attitude wise." I tried to explain, now wiping the last tile with a damp cloth.

"That is pretty crazy." He commented which made me chuckle. "Speaking of your brother, does he not like me or..?"

I took my cleaning materials and chucked them back to their rightful place under the sink, finally standing up, stretching my legs a little. "What makes you think that?"

"I'm not dumb, Boun." He laughed lightly. "And the way he looks at me - it's as if I've done something horrible." He shrugged his shoulders, still smiling nonetheless.

"He's just - he's just being himself. He's always so protective over me, maybe that's why." I lied.

"Oh. Well, I'm not a bad person so..."

"Yeah, I know. But, hey, don't worry. He'll warm up to you eventually." I reassured, ruffling his hair a little when I passed by him, ready to tidy up the living room a little. I actually do a pretty decent job in maintaining the cleanliness of my house but then again, these are my parents that we are talking about. Every thing has to be in their best order whenever they're around.

"Do you want me to go out while your parents are here?" He asks, hearing the light pitter-patter of his feet approach my direction. I turned around, looking at him with my eyebrows knitted together and he shrugged. "Surely they'll think that this entire arrangement is pretty sketchy."

"I don't think it's sketchy."

"Your brother thinks it is."

"They're not like Ohm.."

"You just told me that your mom's a mixture of you and your brither." He shot back with so much wit, biting his lip, trying to stop himself from laughing. I scoffed.

"Shut up, Prem. What I mean is that they're not as bad as Ohm so.."

"Are you sure you don't need my help?" He asks, dodging away from the previous topic on-hand.

"I'll be done in a few, don't worry."

"Oh! Do you want me to cook us lunch?" He asked. "It's the least that I could do for you." I looked at him with pure contemplation and he smiled up at me - that same old adorable smile of his. "I promise I won't burn your house down." He added, making me laugh lightly.

"Alrighty, then."

--

"Bounnie!"

"Hey, ma." I mumbled, chuckling lightly as the woman engulfed me in her world-famous bear hug. For a 5-feet, 2 inches tall woman, she sure could crush a rib or two with her hugs. "Hey, pa." I greeted my dad who's standing behind her, waving a little with the effort that I could muster up with my mom still crushing me.

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