Companion To Paris
Calling

"Are we going home or are we still going for a walk?" ask Biema.

"We go home" said Paris.

"Don't want to walk alone in the park while eating snacks?" fresh Biema. Paris looked at her phone. It's still 8.

"Can too. You're so smart to get ideas, Bie ... E .. yes. You're so smart to get an idea," repeated Paris making the sentence sound weird. Biema did not care much because Paris agreed with his idea.

Biema's choice turned out to fall to the streets in the city square area. Paris is happy.

"Tumben brought me here?" asked Paris in wonder with a smile looking at the square of this city so crowded.

"Again want to."

"We bought that, yuk." Paris pointed towards the present-day carts selling chicken pokies.

"Come here?" biema asked as they sat waiting for the order to finish cooking.

"Us used to. Because he was with Arga. He was again terrorizing Asha's brother at that time" said Paris. "Approach ..."

"Sir Asha is here often?"

"It is precisely Brother Asha who is loyal to this city square. He likes to play basketball with his friends. Also, on that basketball court," point Paris toward the basketball court on the grass.

"Sir Asha can play basketball?"

"Of course, Bi ... Ee. Brother Asha jago instead." Paris is so passionate about storytelling. Again the words sound strange.

"New to know."

"Great, yes .." praise Biema finally convinced that Asha can be great in all fields.

"But sister Asha is less great at cooking. His mother is good at cooking."

"Like you," Biema blatantly accused. Paris laughing.

"You're right, Bi ... Eh." Paris smiled immediately. More precisely grimacing. Biema was sure that this girl sounded strange as she spoke.

"Why you?" ask Biema.

"Why?" Paris asked back. Biema looked straight at this girl. When Paris' eyes blinked.

"Antrian 8," said the chicken pok-pok seller.

"Yes!" sahut Parisian. He immediately stood up and got closer to the wagon. Then take two packs of his order pok-pok. "Hey, hey ..," call Paris. Biema. "Come on. Time to pay" Paris said, asking the man to come closer. Biema standing.

On the way back to the apartment, not many sentences came out of Paris' lips. He just kept looking to the side. Towards the car window. This girl felt foreign and came back like they were first together. Biema piqued to look sideways and asked, "Something's stuck in your heart, Paris?" The girl was silent and did not answer. Either he did not hear because Biema's voice was soft or indeed was thinking about many things. "Marr ...." Biema looked to the side again.

"Yes?" ask Paris in surprise. He looked directly to the side. "What did you say just now?" Apparently this girl did not hear at all the questions that Biema had just asked. "try on

"Are you thinking about a lot of things that are stuck in your heart?" tanya Biema repeated her question while looking straight ahead.

"E .. no" replied Paris a little hesitant.

"really?" search Biema. Paris nodded her head. "Don't hide anything from me. I don't like that" Biema said firmly.

"I'm not thinking of a man, really," argued Paris who turned out to open his own reason for silence since earlier. He was thinking something.

Ouch. I'm wrong to say.

Hearing this, Biema immediately turned the car into the left lane and pulled over the car.

"Emmm .. little."

"What?" biema asked her to bring her body closer to Paris.

"It's not important, it's ..." Paris flicked his fingers in front of Biema. Want to make this guy not discuss what he is thinking.

"Anything about you is important to me. So please talk now" Biema said.

"Why are you a maksa, anyway?" grouse Paris.

"I don't like being kept quiet like you just now. Speak or I'm forced to do something else for you to say."

"What the hell?" paris grumbled while pushing Biema's body closer towards him. Biema kept her eyes focused to the side. In the direction of Paris who was leaning on the body of the car seat. "You don't think I'm being polite to you?" ask Paris carefully. Hearing this Biema knitted her eyebrows.

"What is this about? Why ask about that?" Biema grunts tickled. Paris thinned her lips feeling Biema was not taking her question too seriously. "Are you talking about what your mother said?"

"Do you understand what I mean?" ask Paris interested. He who had been upset Biema would definitely tease him, this time happy to understand what he will talk about.

"I also heard what you were talking about. I know now. What are you thinking of calling me?" Paris nodded happily as Biema understood what was the burden on her mind. "Because of that, you avoid calling my name?" Paris grimacing. "If you're alone, what's more comfortable calling me?"

"Are you asking?" Paris wonder.

"Make me it depends comfortably not only for you. You called me as usual, I did nothing. I don't have a problem. But yes .. If according to parents are not polite, take another choice."

"Do I call Brother Biema yes ... I'll call you by the call of a brother when I see your mama." Paris had an idea. He was happy to be able to finish his battle.

"No. I don't want you to call me, brother. Because you also call Lei Kak, "reject Biema firmly. "I don't want to be confused with him." Even blatantly saying the reason for his dislike was Lei.

"Ehem." Paris throats. He forget. Until only realized again when Biema was the one who discussed the man. Biema looked straight at Paris who slowly lowered her face avoiding her sharp gaze. Then scratch his nape that does not itch.

"Why is it wrong?" tegur Biema makes Paris increasingly unable to move much.

Aduuuhhh .. What is Biema? Like I was catching me wet.

"Obviously wrong. I'm just giving you an idea to call you. Not even making you jealous. Even a little bloodshed." accused Paris.

"Call as usual. I'm not obsessed with a call" Biema said, holding the wheel. He will continue his journey home.

"Darling?"

Biema who was ready to start the engine stopped.

"Hubby?"

Hearing the second word made Biema turn to Paris. The car engine is not turned on.

"Honey?"

The third word made Biema turn her head to the side.

"Or My Pie?" Paris looked to the side. The two looked at each other. Biema's frowns on hearing what Paris just said. Although his forehead was wrinkled, Biema's eyes were smiling.

"What is My Pie?" ask Biema. If the three words of the call were very ordinary and he could understand the meaning, but when the fourth word slid from his wife's tiny lips, he did not understand. A little ambiguous and ambiguous.

"My papa?" ask Paris jokes. Biema squinting. "And I'm .. your mamie." After this last word, Biema could no longer help but laugh. Finally he chuckles to hear Paris clarify the meaning of the word call.

"So you're ready to be a mommy?" goda Biema makes Paris tick. Gun eat sir. Paris crime.

"Not. That's not what I meant. I was just kidding," Paris said in a panic. He got an unexpected question from Biema. Biema's hand started the engine and moved away from there with a big smile.