Companion To Paris
Sharing a bedroom

"Why what?" ask Paris still judes.

"Just go for it." Sandra answered the Paris question.

"You know, I'm married." Unexpected Sandra, Paris confided. Sandra nodded. Without telling him he knew that Paris was married today. "I got married while I still needed to play with my friends" Paris said.

Without Sandra, Paris still needs to play like her. He did not understand why their parents married the two men. After saying that Paris fell silent. Sandra was silent too. Without speaking, he knew his best friend was sad.

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Not wanting to linger, before the event was over, Paris immediately entered the room. He was sure there were no more guests because the event was so private. Bruk! Still with a white dress and make-up on the face, this girl splashed on her bed.

This room is not decorated like a bridal room. Paris is not. Then this girl cried. He's very sad. Not long after, Biema suddenly appeared. Paris who had been lying down immediately woke up. In the rubbing of the tears that were dripping earlier.

His body rose from the bed and moved towards the door. Leaving Biema who entered and was about to sit on the corner sofa. Biema's eyeballs followed the direction the girl was going. The door handle was moved and the girl went out. Biema.

Outside, he runs into Arga who is seen holding Arash who is so cute in a suit. If usually Paris would pinch and kiss the baby padlocked to anger, but this time he was not interested.

The baby is sleeping in his father's arms. Asha stood behind him. Seeing Paris leave the room after they found out that Biema had already entered the room, they were stunned.

"Where are you going?" ask Arga. Still in a white wedding dress, the girl bent her face.

"In the hot room. I want to find air outside." Paris's hands fluttered in front of his face. He showed that he was hot.

"Isn't there Ac in the room?" ask plain Arga. Paris is tired. About that, no need to be told, Paris understands. But the purpose of his exit from the bedroom was .. because there was the man.

"Yes." Yeah."

"What's broken? Isn't everything your mother has prepared before your wedding day?" Again Arga is insensitive.

"I don't know" replied Paris. He was starting to get upset with his brother. "Here you go, I'm going down." Paris ended this meaningless conversation.

"Below there is a mother" said Asha. As if knowing what Paris meant out of the room. Paris surprised. Then he looked downstairs. Mother is still in the middle room. His face looks radiant.

Paris took another breath. This time not angry. Just a sense of guilt. Finally, Paris re-entered the bedroom with shaky steps. His two older brothers were still watching slowly opening the door. Because Arash who was in Arga's arms was disturbed by their conversation.

Paris's hand opened the door slowly. Biema had already taken off her suit during the event. Now the man only wears a T-shirt and shorts. There were fine hairs growing on his feet. Paris who had never seen this directly looked the other way.

Seeing the door open, Biema turned her head. Paris said nothing. He just walked slowly towards his bed.

"What do you want?" paris asked cautiously as the man walked over to her. Paris' body shifted away.

"What do you think I want? Yeah, sleep," he said calmly.

"Why sleep here?" and Paris disagreed. His body immediately got out of bed and moved away.

"Where should I sleep?" Biema asked back. Paris clucked.

"Yes, I don't know." Paris answered nicely.

"I don't care about that."

"Thus ... " Biema is sitting down. "... Would you care if your own mother came up here with her sick leg, to tell you that we should both sleep in one room?" Paris again grumbled to hear this man say such a shitty thing.

"You should have refused if told to go to my bedroom" grunted Paris.

"I can't do it because I don't want to be a bad daughter-in-law in front of your family."

"Isshhh," grumbled Paris. Biema put her body back on the bed. Paris saw it with a bang. Moreover, this man behaved like nothing was awkward with their marriage. Moreover, forcing her who is still young age to be made a wife.

If Biema sleeps here, it means .. she has to share the bed with this man. Nooooo!!

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"Paris, Paris ...," reprimanded someone shaking this girl's body violently. He wants to wake up Paris. "Come, wakeup. Cephaattt ... " The voice is still there. A woman's voice. Sounding from his tone of voice, this fellow must be in a hurry.

Paris yawned and wriggled behind her blanket. The sunlight is still dim.  But he was sure it was morning. As the cold still lingers, Paris is reluctant to wake up.

Paris' eyes opened slowly. The face of her sister-in-law, Asha. The eyes of Paris.

"Why did you get in my room?"

"Hey ... Are you still delirious? I should have asked, why are you sleeping here?" ask Asha gemas. Paris turned its head. He took his eyeballs to the spot where he was asleep. It turns out he wasn't sleeping in the room. He slept on the sofa in the lounge upstairs.

Paris just remembered that she took the initiative to leave the room because she did not want to share the bed with Biema.

"Quick go back to your room to take a shower. It could be bad if you knew you were sleeping separately with your husband."

"Akkhh!! Don't say that word. I don't want to. I don't wanna hear that. No!" paris is like trauma. His hands covered both ears.

"Don't scream. Quickly go back to your room," drive Asha out. Paris immediately got up lazily heading to her room with a blanket and pillow in her hands.

Paris came into the room as the man was inside, fresh out of the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around his waist.

"Gee! Mmpph..." After shouting, Paris then silenced her own mouth. The pillow and blanket he held automatically fell to the floor. As fast as lightning this girl turned her body avoiding her eyes to not be stained.

Biema seemed unperturbed by the Parisian furore. He looked down and saw himself.

"Nobody should surprise you. Why act like that?" biema asked as she walked towards the closet.

"How can you say calmly like that, Biema?" Biema did not react. She opened the closet door and sorted out the clothes. "Why did you open my closet?!" Paris could not see because she was still on her back, but she could memorize the sound of her own closet door.

"Mother said, this closet can already be filled by my clothes. So I put my shirt in here."

"Your keys? H-when?" ask Paris stuttering.

"When we got to this house."