Companion To Paris
About Paris

"Before I was in this room, it seemed like I had already lost to the girl. Parisian. The excited young girl. Dare to take the step of marrying your young one who doesn't necessarily love her." Mela said in earnest.

Biema snorted at Mela's words.

"Who said I didn't love her .." Biema said.

"You ... really love her?" asked Mela while leaning her body forward.

"Don't ask any more strange questions, Mela. You forgot my threats?" Biema squinted her eyes.

"No, no Biema. It's not that." Mela moved her five fingers.

"Yes. I love him," Biema replied firmly. Mela sighed.

"Honestly, I'm disappointed you were able to remove me from your heart so quickly. Because I thought you wouldn't be so easy to throw me out of your heart."

"Anybody can change fast, Mel."

"That's so ... Alright. We better discuss the work. If not, I'll still ask you a lot. Especially about Paris." Mela then opened her bag and pulled out a file.

Paris moved away from the reading room furiously. He's very upset. Even though he was acting strong, but actually it was just a charade.

He felt that someone was sick. That's his heart. Unlike when he heard that Biema had asked Mela to get married in his office. He was angry and angry. But when he meets his brother, Arga, all his anger evaporates. Not lost, but just vaporized. It can only be said not to be used.

This time it's not the same. He feels pain. The embers that lit up when facing Mela just a moment ago. So Biema's asking Mela to marry isn't that old story? This time Paris felt his body was exhausted and wanted to enter the room immediately.

Luckily, he immediately darted into the bedroom. Otherwise, a tear fell on the way. And the residents could find it. Once in the room, Paris immediately closed the door. Removing the tear granules, then sitting on the bed.

"Damn it! Why hurt, anyway! Who is Biema, has made me cry? He's an aged man ...." Paris counted with his finger. "Aged 8 years older than me. He's an old man, isn't he?" Paris nagged in the room. "There's an old man who can dazzle in front of a young girl like me." Paris. Bend his face because of the.

Bruk! Paris dropped her body on the bed in annoyance.

"Biema sucks. He's a shitty old man." Paris is still nagging. His eyes looked at the ceiling of the room. Chortled. "If it sucks, he actually cares about me ..." Paris knew that.

"But ... is his caring attitude really from his heart? If he married me out of disappointment at Mela's refusal, wouldn't he be trying to be nice trying to throw Mela out of his heart?" Paris grabbed the bolster beside him. Hugged him and drowned his face.

"Descenders. His name made the escape not only not cool, but also a little painful." Paris looked straight ahead. But focus on something else.

"I'm sure Biema is pretending to care about me." Paris nodded to himself. His mood suddenly became sad. "Why does thinking like that make me sad? Am I starting to like that handsome old man, huh?" Paris termangu. Rudiam closed his eyes. Slowly he too fell asleep.

Paris squirms on the bed. His eyes moved slowly. Then it opened perfectly after teetering earlier.

I'm up. Looks like overslept. Paris rose from her sleep. Then sit while yawning. Stretching the hand feels good bone when stretching.

"Are you awake, Paris?" biema's distinctive voice reprimand. Paris did not expect that there was a man inside the tiptoe room.

"When have you been here?" search Paris.

"Since your eyelids twitch to open your eyes" Biema explained. That means it has been since. Then this man saw him evaporating wide. Spontaneous Parisian hands covered her mouth. "Yes. I saw you yawn so wide earlier." Biema smiled ignorantly.

Issh ... This old man always had a dirty face. Don't feel like what hurt me? Huh! Sucks.

"I was gonna take you home. It turns out that when I got back here, you fell asleep. Very inconvenient. I couldn't bear to wake her up" Biema said.

"Yes. I'mtired. Real tired. After expending a lot of energy, I felt so tired." Paris uttered the word tired repeatedly and hyperbole.

"Ah, that woman. I'm pretty satisfied to have denounced it."

"I don't think you're satisfied if you haven't beaten him yet" Biema said with a smile.

"Yes. If I could."

"We're going home now?" ask Biema. Paris looked out the window. The sky began to darken. It turned out to be afternoon. Is that how he slept long enough?

"Yes, but I want to take a shower first. Have you taken a shower?" ask Paris to stand up. There was no meaning in this girl's question. He just asked in passing. But seeing the mischievous lightning in Biema's eyes, Paris began to realize that she was speaking the wrong way. "I mean, if you haven't had a bath, take a shower. I can wait for your turn after you finish taking a shower." Paris quickly read his words.

"Oh, I think I misheard."

"What did you hear?" murmured Paris while grumbling.

"I thought you took me to take a bath together" Biema said with a plain look. It was as if that phrase was common in Paris.

"Aarggh .. stop your lewd sentence, Biema. Ish ... I'm gonna take a shower. It's up to you not to shower or have." Paris immediately rushed to the bathroom. Biema smiled amusedly. It's nice to see Paris grumbling with that cute.

Biema was silent while looking at the bed for a long time. She ... saw the tears of Paris when the girl fell asleep earlier.

That girl crying?

It is not just Paris that has doubts. Biema is also confused about the girl's feelings. They both feel they have not yet obtained the meaning of true love.

About Paris ... I don't know about his feelings. Sometimes he is so afraid of losing, sometimes he is also flat like reluctant. Sometimes he gets angry because I'm close to Mela. Sometimes he doesn't care either. About Paris ... I still don't know.

The shiny black Volkswagen Golf GTI owned by Biema away from the courtyard of her parents' house to her apartment.

"Aren't you hungry?" ask Biema.

"Yes. I'm so hungry."

"What are we eating tonight?"

"Hmmm .. I want to eat grilled fish."

"Do you like grilled fish?"

"Yes. I really like it."

"Where do you usually buy it?"

"There's no need to find a place I used to go. You can take me to the grilled fish you know."

"Don't. Since this is the first time you want me to eat out, I have to celebrate." Paris' lips thinned at Biema's sentence which sounded like a mockery to her. "Where is the grilled fish you like?" ask Biema again.

"In the tent shop."

"Warung .. tent?" biema spelled.

"It looks like you're astonished that I'm eating at the tent stall" Paris said, squinting at Biema beside her. "You must have never eaten in such an ordinary place. Forget it, if you're a 'big guy'." Paris added a scorn there.

"Don't judge my every sentence with the wrong thoughts of Paris. Not everything I say has the same meaning as what you think. I'm not surprised. And I'm not mocking your favorite place either." Biema responded calmly.