Companion To Paris
Bleary

Waiting for the graduation announcement day feels very long for Paris. With the pregnancy that is increasing day by day he also experienced a natural thing for pregnant women. It is a kind of nausea and vomiting that sometimes torment. Bad mood that appears suddenly. Sometimes it's exhausting too.

This afternoon, he sat on the couch watching TV. Mama and Papa Biema are having an event outside, so now he is alone. There might be some maids milling around to clean up, but that certainly didn't get her excited.

He saw Sandra appear in a brown dress. With a small side bag, he looked cute.

"You want to walk, San?" ask Paris. Sandra who is fixing her flat shoes is still down. He has not answered Paris's question. Just after finishing with her shoes, Sandra looked up.

"Yes" he answered happily. "Mama is still a long time. I'll be home before mom gets home. Yes .. I'm leaving. "Da-da Paris ..." After waving, the girl stepped towards the outside door. Suddenly Paris's face was grim. Then he breathed. His hand picked up the cell phone beside him and ignored the flaming tv without any audience.

Paris fiddled with his phone aimlessly. Everything was just a way to divert his mind that had been sad because of the envy of seeing the freedom of Sandra. Maybe Biema never directly limits her movements, but without realizing herself has rules. Where she should not go out because she already has a husband.

Biema who actually wanted to get closer to his wife, stopped seeing that grim face. He saw when Paris saw Sandra was leaving. He's been home since this afternoon.

Did I make it through her wonderful youth? Maybe he wants to go out freely with his friends like Sandra.

Biema approached slowly. And hugged his wife. Paris was aghast at a glance then gently patted her husband's cheek. The delicate sideburns on this man's cheeks were felt on his cheeks.

"You're sorry?" ask Biema suddenly. This surprised Paris and looked quickly. Removing her hands on her husband's cheeks.

"What do you mean?" ask Paris while looking straight at her husband.

"You married young." Biema started sitting next to his wife. Hugging the body of Paris that feels full from the side.

"What the fuck? Is there no other topic?" Paris grumbling.

"It's not. I'm afraid my decision to marry you made you miss a happy youth. I .. feel like I did." Biema sniffing soft Parisian hair.

"Don't ask me about that anymore. Obviously you must have made me unable to get through youth like I should. You are evil" said Paris. "You asked for this. So I'm talking a lot. Yep. You're making me unable to play here and there at will." Paris sat in the side while looking ahead. Let Biema sniff her fragrant hair.

"Hhh ... Biema." Paris sighed and released her folded hand earlier. "Why the hell is it always about us getting married young, we get married in a match?" ask Paris upset.

"You mad?" ask Biema who somehow became sensitive.

"No, but I protested. That discussion sometimes spills me too. Like we're making a mistake. Especially you. We are not making a mistake" Paris said. Biema is unstable. Sometimes very sensitive and sometimes normal. Looks like this guy has couvade syndrome. Maybe not too same. Because Biema is worried not only about pregnancy, but about the soul of the wife.

"I saw that you were grim-faced when I saw Sandra earlier. I know you must feel depressed because you can't be as free as him," Biema said early on he began discussing this.

"I can't be as free as Sandra by going to and fro as I please, but I can have fun with you."

"Want to?" tanya Biema made Paris laugh.

"Cok ask that? Clearly wanted. You are my beloved husband" said Paris with a proud face. Biema smile. "Why are you so adorable." Paris pinched Biema's cheek in agitation.

"I'm adorable? Waw. People rarely say I'm adorable." Biema stroked her fine-haired chin.

"Literally it is impossible. You are big. High. Pake a lot of feathers here and there." Paris pointed at the fine hairs on Biema's face and hands.

"Well, women won't be anxious to see a man like me?" ask Biema.

"Who? Who's so anxious to see you? Mela? Or is there something else, huh? What I don't know," said Paris, who had been happy, suddenly became gloomy and dark. Biema. He hugged his wife with affection.

"I don't know. I don't give a shit. The most important thing is you. My wife's. I don't care about them." Biema whispered near the ear. Paris thins lips. Then heave a breath. "We're out for a walk?" biema with cheerful face.

"Alright," welcome Paris happily.

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