Paid Boyfriend Brother Ketos

4. Homehouse

Fionns

The sentence that greeted me in his room Aldi is "so long lo". And I followed that comment with origin. Making excuses if there was a new accident on the road. So, there was a long queue of vehicles when the police were evacuating.

Fortunately, he believed it because there was no way I could reveal the real reason.

Well ... maybe, anyway. However, I don't want to. What I did with his twin brother was none of Aldi's business. It's just my business with Alda. Anyway, is there a brother who would listen to the story about what his sister did behind the door of his room, right?

After suggesting rather directly that I wanted to be distracted, Alda immediately pulled me to his room which was in the opposite direction to Aldi's room. If to go to Aldi's room we have to turn left after the final steps, to go to Alda's room we have to turn right.

You might think that I am a bergsek in another level because of dating my own best friend's sister behind his back. Yeah, Alda's starting eight minutes early to launch into this mortal world. However, I say the same to you, you guys are wrong.

Not because I said I was acting because I am and I admit it, but because I'm not dating Alda or anyone else for that matter. Basically I'm not a typical man who likes to commit, let alone tie myself to someone at this young age?

Blaley. Man, that sounds really fxcking awesome and suffocating.

Never. I would never want to fall into a pit full of torture called commitment.

So, that's that, ladies and gentlemen.

I'm not dating Alda. I just ... use the available resources. Rather than wasted, right? I wear mending.

"Mainly not lo?" aldi asked without turning his head from the television screen in front of him.

"Son, ah." I am constantly refusing. While throwing the body on Aldi's bed, I added. "My clothes."

Man, I'm really tired. The adrenaline that runs through my body has been drained by Alda's lips.

Fxcking.

****

Kimaya

I was preparing dinner when Dad got home. After greeting Mom and cleaning up, Dad came out of the room pushing Mom in the wheelchair and we had dinner together.

I eat well again.

The ritual of dinner and chatting about today's activities has been completed. I pushed Mom back into the room. However, before turning around, I had already sent a gesture to Father through my meaningful eyes; I had something to talk about.

I joined him thirty minutes later.

"Well." yeah."

"May."

Dad chuckles.

I wasn't.

"It's serious, Dad."

"What's serious, Maya?"

Father is known as a teacher who is good at teaching not only because of the way to teach Father who is liked by students and students at Taruna Nusantara High School, but also because of the personality of the Father who is friendly, smiling, and friendly, and supele. As a teacher, Dad never considered himself the most knowledgeable and smartest in the classroom. Dad never dwarfed his students even though he could read each other's abilities. You will always support your students in any form, inside and outside the classroom.

Dad at school and Dad at home are just different in his costume.

Hm. Possibly ... The father version in the house is the father with a softer version because, yes, you know lah.

"Mom should have consumed food in liquid form, Dad." I went straight to the heart of the conversation. I wouldn't be known as me if I wasn't someone who was straight to the point.

My father again sighed deeply before answering. "Yes, I know. Ms. Pika had even suggested that from a few weeks ago."

Whats? I was really shocked to know that. Ms. Pika had advised him from far away. However, why until now you still consume solid food?

Dad could see the question in my expression as if what I was thinking was written clearly on my forehead and written using a black inked marker. However, my old man seemed a bit hesitant when presenting. "It ... it .. because ...."

Besides being stubborn, I am also an impatient person. "What, Dad? Because what?" My heart started to beat faster. Overstimulation caused by overanalysis and overthinking makes it even more racing. I blame all this on my brain not wanting to stop working more.

My fist that was on top of my thigh tightened as the seconds passed. Both of them also swayed with my legs up and down. Inwardly, I tried to keep restraint by counting down from a hundred with Arabic.

Tamananiyatun wa tamaanuuna.

Sab’atun wa tamaanuuna.

Sittatun wa tamamauuna.

The khamsatun wa tamaanuuna.

When I reached sixty-seven, Father was freed from the contemplation that made him silent for thirty-three seconds. "That's Mom's wish, Maya."

Is there a lightning bolt that grabbed my body for a moment? Or am I already electrocuted by high voltage? It felt like the world stopped spinning as the word-for-word series that Father had spoken was received by my ears and finished being digested by the brain.

I ... I .. I ....

I put on a round feeling that blocked the throat. Suddenly the legs hiding under the dining table stopped their dance of uneasiness. My palms are back. Having managed to get what should be under my control again, I cleared my throat. "okay."

A word consisting of three letters. The letters that led me away from our little dining table, near our little kitchen, in our house that, although not very big, always felt airy with happiness. By a sense of security. By a sense of peace.

By togetherness.

By joking and laughter.

By the warmth that can only be created by people who share the same DNA as you. That can treat injuries with kisses and hugs.

But now what? What's left in here? His security has diminished. The peace is no more. Although we are (currently) still together, that sense of togetherness has also disappeared. Jokes and laughter flew out of nowhere.

And the warmth that surrounded each room had turned cold.

How can a house not feel like ... home?

Connect ....