Companion To Paris

Breakfasted

In the room, Paris threw the backpack as he liked. Then slammed his body on the bed in annoyance.

"He was really upset. He is indeed a bitch," grumbled Paris while making irregular movements on the bed. Until making tangles and messy bed linen that has been neatly arranged envelop the mattress made of sponge with high quality.

Even her school uniform became tangled like a washcloth. His body got up and sat with his legs hanging on the edge of the bed.

"How could he agree with your plan. Instead of opposing and rejecting everything, he agreed and acted like everything would happen even if he did nothing. This is all impossible." Paris moved his legs. His hand also squeezed the bed sheet until the mattress pad was pulled no because.

"Did he have no other activities other than to disturb me? Erghh!!" Paris slammed her body again on the bed. Rolling around upset at his mother's decision.

How can she who is young, still a dozen years old already bear the title as a wife?

I don't feel his tears falling. Paris is crying again. He has been angry many times and raised objections to the decision of the mother to marry him to this man. But the mother remained in her stance, namely she had to marry Biema.

His hand brushed the tears. Crying is free too. Nobody's poking him. Even the man she married did nothing to annul the marriage. She was willing to make herself a wife even though she was not very familiar with each other's nature.

Paris rubbed his eyes which were hot. Then hold his dizzy head. After crying last night, now he felt a bit carefree. His body was lazy to get out of bed, but had to. Because he still has to go to school.

With a towel, Paris stepped out of the room. The bathroom is outside the room. His mouth evaporated wide because it felt like it was still lacking hours of sleep. His hands also gently massaged his stiff shoulders.

When his hand was on the bathroom door handle, there was a sound of water inside. It looks like there's Biema. Paris pulled the tip of her lips next to her in annoyance. I sat on the sofa in front of the tv. Waiting for the man to come out finished cleaning himself.

Click! Paris turned on the tv. Watch infotainment greet. There is already news of gossip.

After a while the man took a shower, finally finished too. Paris did not rise soon. He waited for the man to enter his room. Biema who found Paris sitting on the sofa glanced.

"Are you awake?" ask Biema.

"Hmm" answered Paris briefly. More precisely, he answered. The ringing of the phone made Biema accelerate her steps into the room. The head of Paris turned his head until the man disappeared from behind the door of the room. Then he got up from his seat and went into the bathroom.

After the bath, Paris smelled a pleasant aroma from the kitchen beside the bathroom.

What is this smell? Paris looked in the kitchen.

There Biema is doing something.

Is he the creator of this delicious scent? As she thought, Biema looked back. Paris only gushed half of his body.

"If you're done with the shower, come here. Breakfast is ready, "call Biema who takes Paris by surprise. He did not expect to be found by this man.

"Breakfast?" Paris straightened her body while she stood. Act indifferently.

"Yes. Not that you're going to school. Before that we have to have breakfast." Paris looked towards the kitchen table. Biema was concocting a morning meal in the form of fried rice with egg ceplok on it. Make two portions which are then placed on the table.

Biema. Paris immediately turned his eyes in another direction. "I know you're used to having breakfast at home with your family. Come on, come on over here." Paris hesitated to approach. Not that he's not hungry. It's just that he's prestigious. Wasn't he angry with this guy yesterday? Especially if he ran away.

The krunyuk! Wow the sound of starving stomachs sounded so loud. Paris glanced at her stomach. His face was slightly reddened with embarrassment.

"Don't refuse food" Biema said again with her back to Paris. He must have heard a voice just now. Paris grimaced to be caught wet starving. "Sit. I'm making juice. What juice do you want?" biema asked, turning her head to Paris.

"Just?" tantalizing offer. Paris loves juice.

"Mmm .. I'm an avocado," answered Paris still by the door.

"OKAY. Avocados. Our likes are the same. Now go in and sit at the dinner table. Juice is ready soon." Paris stepped slowly towards the chair. He ended up following his starving belly call and ignoring the prestige.

Yes, I am hungry and there are people who provide food. I can't refuse it. This is an opportunity, said Paris trying to find a reasonable reason if asked Biema.

Paris pulled the shoulder of the chair and began to sit down. Biema finished making juice for the two of them. He came to the dinner table and put two pieces of juice on the table.

"Eat. It's ready." Biema invited Paris who only saw food on the table. "Indeed, it's not food that makes you want to add more, but this is enough to make our stomach not empty when doing activities later."

"I can eat anything" Paris said immediately.

"Thank God." Biema. Paris began to spoon and feed the rice into her mouth. Tasty. Paris thinks it's good. Either because of the cooking or indeed because he was feeling flat, but this fried rice is delicious.

"Will I go home by myself or will I pick you up?" ask Biema. Looks like he started making offers to Paris about yesterday. He didn't force this girl to go home with him.

"Go home alone."

"What's okay?"

"much. Ojek online, public transport or I can take a friend." Biema. Looking at Paris who is so greedy eating his rice. Paris did not know that Biema was watching him eat rice with vigor.

"Follow Sandra. The driver of the house can take you home to the apartment first and just deliver Sandra home.

"No. I will not be free. If all of a sudden I don't want to go home to this apartment how?" ask Paris without further ado.

"You still want to run away?"

"certain. I don't feel right here."

"What makes you feel at home?"

"No one is you."

"You want to live here by yourself?" Paris nodded without a care. He felt no need to hide that there was no love or desire from the heart to get married. "The husband of the wife should live together."

"Stop. Don't lecture me. You know we were forced to marry. Uh, no. I was forced to marry. So, surely I do not like the thing that smells of marriage here. Understand that."

"Yes, I get it."

"Good." Paris was satisfied.

"I only doubt."

"What about?" asked Paris while looking at Biema who was sitting in front of him.

"Mmc ..." Biema seemed to be thinking hard. If he had been chatting with this man without caring to see him or not, this time Paris was curious about Biema's doubts that made the man not immediately say it.