HAPPY IS LIGHT

The Story of Asmara Sahaja 2

The blond young man hummed a little with a whistle of satisfaction. His footsteps were as excited as the laughter that suddenly sank. The events of a few minutes ago are still thickly imprinted in memory. The only son of the heir to the Ken noble family whom he had always kept from youth, broke free from scrutiny and ended up in a fish-scented puddle.

A well-proportioned row of neat teeth peeked out from behind the blond smile of the continent across. Prada is more than quite the entertained comedy drama that finished a while ago. A special tired release from the carelessness of his master. Even Sansco, the proud son of Ken's extended family was still able to puff up the snob in a drenched condition.

While Prada's uniform had landed on Shara's shoulder before the girl disappeared in the washroom door, the young master's burly body was sculpted real from behind his white shirt. Sans who are not so interested in the suit should rethink the dual function of the object during an emergency situation.

Prada was still giggling all the way to the school library. Especially considering the blood red level of the employer who is ready to cut his income at any time.

Pradana Ultinos, a naturally golden-haired youth since his body greeted the earth's atmosphere. Exotic tan skin combined with European face sculpting is able to sharpen the aura of a real man. He's a lucky child endowed with affection by the Ken family. Marino Ken, the head of the main family decides to babysit her best friend's tiny flesh-blooded baby who has gone on the journey of the afterlife. That is at least a confession that has never been hidden from the baby who has grown up. Pradana Ultinos.

Unlike Sans who is equipped with innate superior ability and stability since in the womb, Prada is quite grateful for the intelligence of the average normal person he has. Her cheerful and relaxed carry-over is inversely proportional to Sansco, the deep thinker. Although the two never aligned, Sansco would have refused if it wasn't Prada who controlled his daily life.

Prada's dark shoe swing restrained in the library doorway. The only way in and out has been blocked by a tiny body that is folding its knees.

Prada frowned in wonder. A pair of irises as clear as the surface of the ocean cannot move from the confused appearance of a girl with a thick frame. The girl's hand took pains to pick up some books scattered around her.

A book covered in moss green peeked out from behind the tip of Prada's shoes. He slightly lowered his back to reach for the thing that was bothering him.

Prada shook his head in surprise as he approached the girl before putting his book of findings on the top of the list. Now complete the books that have been comfortable in his tiny arms.

"Be careful, you're blocking anyone's way!"

The girl was clad in a dark satin waistline, looking up in amazement. The round eye from behind the minus lens rubs a few times.

His thin lips left a gap that was a little wide. His eyes rolled following the movements of the passing youth.

"Thank you" he said a little vigorously.

Prada just shrugged his shoulders without looking.

A wave-haired mature sapodilla girl appeared scattered from behind the row of bookshelves. The slender-nosed sweet girl approached the glassy-eyed girl who had risen up with the arrangement of books on both her arms that were related.

The sweet girl grabbed a portion of the pale-skinned girl's pile of books.

"Thank you, D!"

The curly hair nodded slowly. "Are you okay, Hanna?"

The waist-length hair restores the location of a dark-framed lens that slips slightly in the middle of the nose bone. "Someone helped a little."

"Who?"

D silenced her lips that were almost screaming hysterically. "The handsome Pradana?"

Hanna nods.

Despite refusing to scream, Deborah's sound waves echoed until they touched Prada's eardrum.

Prada held back his steps. Before long his face turned away with a hostile look. His feet changed.

"Who called me handsome?" A very angry question.

Forehead D is wrinkled like a fine line that becomes a problem not longan mother-mother.

"Who?" Prada's intonation began to climb the scale.

D welcomes the spirit of Prada. "Why, Brother Prada? That brother does have a pretty face."

Prada folded his arms. "I don't want to hear it!"

D insist. "Why, Brother?"

Prada gave a long sigh. "I'm not good-looking yet if the girl I like hasn't accepted my love."

D riveted. His ears as if ringing catch a line of sentences coming out of Prada's lips. D swallowed the bitterness of heartbreak for the first time in his life.

"But . good looks and rejection of feelings are two different things" Hanna said in a nod.

Next to Prada's eyebrows rises. His steps moved towards Hanna.

Roman feather Hanna vertical. He involuntarily bit the tip of his lips.

Deborah gulped when traces of Prada's body scent were left in her nostrils. Watermelon blend of sweat and citrus. The male aroma that sedates the wishful thinking.

Prada pulled the tip of her lips. Deborah almost prancing away happy to see the exotic scenery. A sight that is so easy to find in the mind of fiction writers. Impossible in the real world. The garden of spring flowers in the heart of D is inversely proportional to the dryness in the eyes of Hanna.

"Little boy knows what?" ledek Prada before again stretching the distance to the row of shelves.

Hanna heaved a sigh of relief while Deborah held Hanna in joy. D feels the teen love story narrative is siding with her.

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