Companion To Paris

Alone

Seeing her parents standing up, Paris stood up. These girls don't understand who they are. But his brows furrowed like he had ever known the husband and wife. The closer Paris got, the more it saw clearly who the two men were.

"Sorry, keep you waiting. We must wait for her return to be together here," said the middle-aged woman as she reached out.

"Nothing. I understand he's a busy man." Mrs Wardah received a helping hand with her smile.

"How are you, Hendarto?" ask the middle-aged man.

"Of course it's good" replied Hendarto.

"Hello Paris," said the middle-aged woman looking at Paris. Paris' lips smiled as she shook her hand. This aunt knew him?

Just sec. This face is foreign?

"Hello Paris!" a voice came from behind them. Paris turned his head to look for the origin of the sound.

Sandra's?

The girl approached the table of Paris and her family.

So they're Sandra's parents? I feel like I am no stranger.

The girl did not come alone. There's someone behind him. A gent. Who else if not Biema.

"H-hai .." sahut Paris stutters. So they're gonna meet Sandra's family? His party?

"Wahh Sandra is getting bigger and more beautiful ..." Mrs Wardah offered praise for the Nugraha family's daughter.

"Thank you aunt, but Sandra certainly still loses to Paris cool." Sandra has always admired Paris.

"really?" Mrs Wardah smiled in agreement. Then he turned to his daughter who thinned his lips to see his mother's attitude. Paris did not listen too much to their praise of him. He was more focused on Biema. The man who was upset with his sadistic mouth.

Parisian eyeballs looked at the man who had begun to lend a hand to Mr. Hendarto.

"My son, Biema," Nugraha said proudly.

"Wahh .. he became a handsome man." Hendarto received Biema's handshake while patting the man on the shoulder. Then switch to Mrs Wardah.

"True, Biema is handsome," he added with a friendly and beautiful smile. Paris shook his head looking at the successive praises for this man. "This is our daughter, Biema. Paris." Mrs Wardah held both of her daughters shoulders from the side. All trying to make Paris upright and look ahead. Because it seems like this girl is reluctant.

Biema reached out. Intended to shake hands. Paris received a helping hand after being in her bunda towel. Finally the helping hand is created thanks to mother's coercion.

"Where's the party?" whispered Paris still asking about the party. Mother gave her daughter code to be silent. He does not want to answer. Paris thins his irritated lips.

It seems like there was no party that mother intended at the beginning of their departure. All of that is just a lie. The longer the parents chat makes Paris saturated. Even Sandra, who was usually pleasant, was now also exposed to the unpleasant aura of their chatter. Paris pretended to go to the toilet to clear his brain.

Why did you suddenly meet Sandra's family? Did Biema complain to me about that old incident? Nah! I have to prevent it. There is no other reason mom and dad suddenly have a dinner with their family. It must be about the incident. So mom and dad have to be a little soft and kind to them so as not to make the problem big. Is that so? If so, why are you so considerate of me?

Returning Paris from the toilet, she finds her desk empty.

"Because this place is just the two of us" he replied casually.

"What do you mean?" ask Paris doesn't like it. With such a calm attitude Biema did not immediately answer Paris' question. Finally Paris sat down on a chair and took a drink glass at the table. "There is no need to answer" concluded Paris did not want to wait for the answer this man. Biema opened her mouth to answer.

Both were silent. No talk at all. This man looked at his watch many times. He looks like he's waiting for someone. Or he needs something else. Paris' hand brought the glass to her lips. Sip the drink slowly.

Biema is like that too. He sipped his drink. If Paris were to be indifferent. While Biema took a moment her eyeballs glanced at the girl. Few seconds. After that, I looked back down at the drink. After a few minutes, Biema's eyeballs returned to Paris.

"What's wrong? Why lookat's me?" ask Paris without saying anything. After finding Biema looking at her, Paris did not hesitate to ask. " If there's any need to talk. Don't just look at me like that. I was not impressed by a man. I'd be pissed if you just tried to see me in secret." The length of Paris expressed its dislike.

"So I can see you blatantly?" tanya Biema makes Paris cringe.

"No. I still don't like it. It's just that you seem to want to talk to me. Better just talk if there's a need." Paris's tone sounded sharp.

"No. I have nothing to do with you" Biema replied firmly and made Paris grumble a bit. Clearly, his eyes had found this man looking at him not once.

Paris dyed. Looking for a family that hasn't shown up since.

"Hey," call Paris. Biema who looked towards the stage turned her head. "May you tell me where everyone was at this table?" The man did not immediately answer. His eyes only saw Paris. Paris's knuckles are wrinkled. "Hey, don't look around, if you don't want to answer my question" grumbled Paris.

"Can you say for help?" tanya Biema is flat and cold.

"Huh?" Paris gawking.

"There was a man asking others for help. Let's start with the word .. please." Biema gives an example. Paris thins lips. This guy just acted.

"Can you tell me where my parents are?" ask Paris still with his arrogance. Biema looked again. "Please ...," Paris reluctantly added.

"They're home."

"Hmmm .. is funny. There's no way they're going home without me" said Paris, smiling lightly. His hands closed and threw his face in the other direction.

"Why is it impossible?"

"That's obvious, Biema. They're good parents. My mother will not leave me. Mother invited me to come here, of course, home will also invite me," said Paris haughty. Biema looked at Paris who said what she said was impossible with lazy eyeballs.

"If you don't believe me, just call one of your family's phones. There's gonna be something that can make you sure." Biema's belief in saying that makes Paris a little doubt about her own beliefs. Suddenly he doubted. His neat and haughty seat began to waver.

Is what Biema is saying right now?

"Why silence? Are you afraid, if I say the truth?" biema asked as deliberately provoking.

"Fearful? Why should I be afraid?" Paris disguised her nervousness.

"Please call now. I wonder how you react when you hear that I'm right." Biema's eyeball implies she's not lying. It's a challenge.