The Nurse's Choice of Man

Angel came down from the attic

Amara had prepared all the painting equipment that Dimas would use. Large canvas, brushes and paint with a variety of colors.

In the back garden adjacent to the pool, is where Dimas wanted to be. Since the accident Dimas likes to be alone there. In addition to the calm atmosphere comfortable, colorful and fragrant fragrance of flowers really calm him.

Amara accompanied Dimas' steps as he walked towards the back garden. Just just keep watch, even though Dimas can walk as usual, but he does not want anything bad to happen beyond his expectations.

Dimas thinned his lips looking at the preparations that Amara was doing completely according to what he wanted.

"What would Dimas paint?"

Dimas seemed confused when asked by Amara about the painting. He hasn't even thought about it until he gets there. Boro-boro paints, when was the last time she forgot to draw. I don't know how long he's never touched a colored pencil again. Probably since he graduated school.

"You got a proposal?" Giving up, Dimas decided to ask Amara.

Amara was silent for a moment to think. Wetting his dry lips, he turned to Dimas. "How about finding a simple object? Easier because Mas Dimas is still a beginner. Don't think about the outcome. What matters is that Dimas is trying to."

Dimas sighed in annoyance and looked at Amara with a lazy face. "Yes, but what is that simple? I usually just picture tangled yarn doang."

Accidentally staring at the fruit presented at the table, Amara then smiled broadly when getting an idea from there. "How about Mas Dimas drawing fruits only. It doesn't seem difficult, because kindergarten children have been taught to draw various kinds of fruit."

Dimas thought for a moment then the mangosteen. "Good idea" he said later. The man smiled broadly while staring at the bananas among the other fruits. And he immediately made a choice.

Dimas took one and placed it on the table to make it easier for him to draw. Already starting to scribble the pen, he looked doubtful and tore the paper in annoyance before then squeezing it.

"Lho! Why was it torn, Mas?" amara protested confusedly as she stared at the lump of paper thrown by Dimas.

"Dangerous! Not good." Dimas replied in a relaxed tone.

"The name is also a beginner, where there is a good direct!"

Not answering, Dimas ignored Amara's words. He chose silence and focused on his canvas. Yet somehow the man's hand movements suddenly stopped.

Faced with a sense of anxiety, Amara observed Dimas vigilantly. He rushed over to the young man just to be on guard.

Squinting at the banana on the table, Dimas then said, "It seems there is still less, than this banana."

"less?" Amara observed the banana for a moment before returning to Dimas. "Less much, you mean? Want me to get you a comb that's still intact?"

"It's not .. But what is it?" Dimas tapped his index finger on the lips while the mangosteen was thinking. But a moment later he grinned happily when an idea had settled into his head.. "Aha, I know!" he rattled while flicking his fingers.

"Know what, Mom?"

Not immediately answering, Dimas actually watched Amara while sharing a meaningful smile. While slipping her fingers into her pants pocket, Dimas observed Amara's appearance from the tip of her foot to her headscarf.

That made Amara suspicious. The girl could smell the suspicious scent from Dimas' gaze. Moreover, the man showed an evil grin on his lips.

"Gue needs a model" Dimas chanted as he leaned towards Amara. The man then laughed loudly at the expression of shock on the nurse's face.

"Models?"

"Yes! You know, the professional painter always uses models on the objects of his paintings!" said Dimas in a relaxed yet confident tone.

"Owh, what model?" Amara dazedly gazed around the desolate garden, as if looking for someone else among them. "But whose model, my man? There's no tuh, here," said the veiled girl, returning a look at Dimas.

"Well, what about other people?" cetus Dimas with a smile. The man even looked at Amara with eyebrows moving up and down.

Amara knitted her brows, pretending not to understand. "My shell?" he asked while pointing to himself.

Dimas rolled his eyes lazily. "Mara, Amara. If not Elo, who else? I was a model toad. There's only elo here besides me. I can't be a model as a painter either, right?"

"Hehehe, how is it." Amara grinned while scratching her non-itchy nape. "But I can't be stylish, Mom. How can I be a model."

"Who told you to be stylish! I just told you to hold a banana! Can, right?"

***

It has been more than an hour Amara posed like a real painting model. The girl stood with her left foot on tiptoes, while her head looked up with lips kissing the banana she was holding in a sensual style just like Dimas wanted. The man directed Amara like a professional photographer.

A tired and achy body makes Amara look so limp and lazy when he has to obey Dimas's instructions. The man arbitrarily forbade Amara from moving, even talking let alone complaining.

"It's still a while, Mom?" Amara moved her eyeballs glancing at Dimas. The man who looked focused on the canvas immediately raised his gaze to look at Amara.

"A little while more" he replied casually.

"Not finished yet? I've been sore ...!"

"Hey, patient dong ...! You see later yes, thanks to the brushstrokes from my hands, your usual face will turn into beautiful like an angel down from ..., from, where ya?" Dimas seemed to think for a moment. He continued with a face without sin. "Ah yes, from the attic!" cetusya.

"Cock the Mas' attic?" amara's protest did not take it while blasting her lips.

"Hahaha, yes! He had just lifted a clothesline!" ledek Dimas while chuckling loudly.

"Mas Dimas fucked me up!"

"Hahaha I was just joking around, it's just angry" Dimas said without looking at his interlocutor. He still focused on his canvas and his brush.

But when the man looked up, Dimas immediately looked annoyed to see Amara was no longer in his original position. "Heh, how are you moving anyway! So it's broken, the painting! Turn you back to the original position! I'd have to say it again if I thought this was the way!" While grumbling Dimas turned the sheet of painted paper intending to replace it with a new one.