Honey Semanis Tubes

ALLOW ME

Although surprised by the arrival of the Aksar, Kinanti tried to behave normally. He stood up to shake hands with Aksar, as if eagerly welcoming. He sighed, then developed his best smile.

“Alright, Mr. Aksar. It seems we have not formally met. Welcome to GrewMedia, hopefully in the future we can work together better.” Kinanti smiled.

He was still trying to cover up his nervousness. They shook hands with both eyes intensely looking at each other.

“Happy to work with you, Kinanti. Hopefully my novel this time can be a best seller under your supervision,” Aksar said casually.

Aksar still clasped Kinanti's hand, though she tried to pull it. Aksar further tightened the grip. Aksar's smile was so bright, his skin was tanned clean. It adds to his perfect appearance.

Intimidated by Aksar's treatment, with a single jolt, Kinanti gave up the hand. The woman with back hair was misbehaved because it was looked at like that constantly. He turned his body slightly away, taking in as much oxygen as possible. I don't know what makes him nervous.

Indeed, the figure of Aksar briefly reminded him of the husband.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door. Mira comes with two books in hand. Although sometimes Mira looks annoying, this time Kinanti felt a little relieved by the presence of the woman. At the very least, the arrival of his partner could melt the clumsy atmosphere between himself and Aksar.

“Hai, Mas Aksar. I'm Mira, one of the editors here, Kinanti's partner. Welcome home, Sir.” Mira tried to get along. He withdrew the hand of the Aksar and forced him to shake the man's hand.

“Oh, yes. Hi, Mba Mira. Nice to meet you,” reply Aksar with a friendly gaze.

“Mas Aksar don't have to call me Mba, deh, just enough Mira, okay?” Mira rolled her eyes with a spoiled voice.

“Ah, yes. Your smile, I'm in.” Aksar said flatly, but it was his good looks that spoiled Mira's eyes.

“Bby, yes, I asked for his signature, Mas? I'm a fan of all your novels. You didn't! I cake dapet jackpot pas tau if the author of Right Man, you the man.” Mira presents the book to Aksar. Having a shag haircut with brown caramel highlights is enough to make Mira seem energetic.

“By pleasure,” says Aksar. He receives the novel from Mira's hand, then scratches the ink inside.

Kinanti turned towards the table, waiting for the two to finish talking. On a whim, he called Surya to take her to lunch together. Again, Kinanti was disappointed when only the voice of the mobile operator answered her call.

Seeing the familiarity that Mira had built, Aksar should have preferred her over him. Kinanti felt that there was an allure between the two. Certainly this makes it easier to communicate when dissecting the script. Not like him, who on first impression alone is already embarrassing.

Time passed for Kinanti long enough to feel Mira dominating Aksar's existence. Want Kinanti to interrupt Mira who seems to keep looking between questions to familiarize herself. In fact, between himself and Aksar has not discussed the details of the manuscript. However, just left Mira until the point of boredom found.

Kinanti stood by, flipping through the pages of the magazine. Reading glasses that frame her oval face look more attractive. Not infrequently, despite talking to Mira, Aksar occasionally stole glances.

“Hmm, sorry if less pleasing. I still have things to discuss with Kinanti,” Aksar told Mira. He tried to end the conversation carefully.

“Oh, yes, so keblasan, ‘kan? Sorry, yes, it's been a time for Mas Aksar. Thank you very much, nih.” Mira moved from her seat.

Then, the woman stepped towards the door. He turned his head for a while and said, “Doubt, don't you think I'll take you to coffee sometime, Mas?”

Aksar wrapped his index and thumb to Mira as a gesture of agreement. The door of the room is closed. Kinanti closed the magazine sheet, took off her glasses.

“Huuh.” Aksar sighed as if he had just released a heavy burden.

Kinanti smiled, and invited Aksar to sit down. In order to overcome his unwarranted awkwardness, he had already compiled anything that would be the topic of conversation between the two of them this afternoon.

“It seems, you have hardline fans here, yes, sir!” kanda Kinanti started the conversation.

“Oh, yes. Is that what it looks like?”

“It looks like so, Mr.” Kinanti joking while confirming the position of her glasses.

“You don't have to be too official. Call ‘Pak’, make me like an old man in front of a child,” joked Aksar while crossing his arms.

No doubt, Aksar's words made Kinanti laugh. “So call what, dong? A brother? Rickshaw brother or meatball brother, nih?” Kinanti throws jokes again.

“Kalo Abang darling, can?”

Kinanti again chuckled. “Honestly, actually until now I am still wondering why Mr. Aksar chose me to be your script editor. Especially compared to others, my track record is not as good as other fellow editors,” he said with a slanted smile.

Aksar looked at him. They exchanged looks. The man was silent for a moment, rubbing his neck. It seemed like there was something he wanted to say, but was held back for some reason.

“No special reason. It's just, I feel more suitable working with you.”

“Please, as comfortable as you are. But, may I call you Kinan, ‘kan?” Aksar asked back while tapping the table with his finger. He was nervous when he said that. His hands were sweating with pulses that pulsed even stronger as it had come so far close to Kinanti. In fact, this morning, he deliberately waited for the arrival of Kinanti in order to take the elevator together.

The deg!

Again, Kinanti was misbehaved. Because all his life, only Surya called him by the short name.

“Yes, as comfortable as you too, Sir. But, a co-worker here used to call me Kinanti. Oh, yes, by the way about the script, I have read several chapters of the novel.” script Kinanti switched the conversation and looked serious.

“There's an input?”

“Many! In fact, as I said when I first met, you were too long-winded in the opening paragraph,” explains Kinanti. With a face mimic, he seriously showed a copy of the Aksar manuscript he had crossed using a red inked cross.

“Wow ... thousands of words I stranded seem to be being wiped out!”

“Starting work is quite stressful, isn't it? Looks like you should know if my work rhythm is high enough. Especially after I see some parts that need to be repaired. There are some scenes that I will cut without affecting ..”

Kinanti continued to babble while looking at the script so that he did not realize the figure of Aksar was behind his back. Kinanti's voice was stuck in the throat, her hand movements in the script stopped. The man took over the red pen in Kinanti's fingers.

Aksar's slightly ducking movement left a perfume scent imprinting on his sense of smell.

“Coret aja, no papa. I received. The more revisions, the longer we both work, ‘kan?” Aksar scribbled the manuscript through Kinanti's back.

At first glance, his movements were like he was hugging Kinanti.

Kinanti. Aksar turned his head, looking at the face of the woman who was only fifteen centimeters away from his face.

Kinanti regained his senses, then immediately went to put some distance between himself and Aksar. He thought, It seems like the man had some intention or even had other feelings for him. He hit his head to restore his sanity that had evaporated.

“Pak, can we be professional? I don't know what you mean to me. But, what I need to emphasize here is that I am married, and my household is very happy. So, it is very unlikely for me to think of any other man besides my husband.”

“Sorry if my attitude makes you uncomfortable, Kinan. You remind me of the figure .. ah, never mind.”

Kinanti was still silent and made quite a distance away from the man. His face turned flat looking at Aksar who also felt guilty.

Aksar realized that he was carried away to act like this. “I'm sorry for the last thing. I say goodbye first, later we discuss the script via email only,” he said as he passed from before Kinanti.

Kinanti looked at the man's back until it disappeared behind the door. He lifted his head and let out a rather loud breath. Fortunately, his common sense did not go far.

On the other hand, Aksar's little laugh glided. It seemed, the road to get close and have Kinanti starting to open.

***

Even though he reached home, Aksar was still behind the wheel of a car engine that continued to burn. He took a picture of Kinanti from his wallet. Photos that have long been a sweetener in that accessory. The photo he took secretly when the figure of Kinanti was still wrapped in an alma mater suit. Aksar's memory traveled to dozens of years ago, the,

“I heard you were approaching a girl,” Sutrisno said flatly while sitting in front of his son.

The middle-aged man presented a photo of Kinanti standing against the background of the Ampera Bridge and her right hand forming a symbol of peace. Thought the photo of the girl pujaan stickiness. Although a little surprised, Aksar tried to remain as usual. Aksar is not surprised if the father knows something as trivial as this.

As a property entrepreneur, it was easy for Sutrisno to hire someone to investigate the behavior of his children.

“Ehm, Aksar just admires her, Pa! No more,” kilah Aksar slightly fix the sitting position.

“More is no problem. I can even marry you to the girl if you want.” Sutrisno looked at Aksar as he reflected the smoke from the cigar he was smoking.

Aksar who had lowered his head earlier, quickly looked at his father's face. The face he so longed for, but missed was clapping one hand. He changed his sitting position to cross his legs.

“Really, Pa?” ask Aksar expectantly.

Sutrisno nodded, then turned the cigar into a snake-head shaped ashtray in front of him. “With one condition ...”

***