
Paris evaporated wide. She's exhausted. It wasn't because she was working on something this morning, but because the girl was waiting for Biema last night.
.
.
.
Last night.
Paris waited for the man to arrive by sitting on the sofa. Watching tv while eating snacks that he bought at the minimarket near the apartment building area. Potato chips, corn-flavored snacks, tortilla chips, and several similar types of food. He bought quite excessively.***** his meal was deliberately added for the sake of the mission will face the man.
At first, watching tv was fun. Imagine, this girl watched tv with a lot of snacks beside her. It was like watching a movie with a big popcorn. Moreover, watching with any style is allowed because this is at home.
His head was on the wall clock. It's eight o'clock at night. It does not feel like time is getting faster into the night.
"Where is that guy? Why hasn't eight hours gone home? Is he overtime?" grouse Paris. He's getting impatient. The TV shows are getting boring too. The snack beside him started to decrease a lot. He had chewed repeatedly until he could keep a stock of facial gymnastics for a few days.
"OKAY. Maybe he's buying fritters on the street. Or just stop looking at the storefront. Look around at the stuff on display in awe, perhaps." Paris reinforces a positive aura to herself in order not to give up.
Usually the man appears no later than seven o'clock. The possibility of him still on the way does exist. Paris does not know what obstacles a person receives on the way home.
The sighing grew heavier as the wall clock showed nine o'clock more. Paris was impatient, then immediately grabbed the phone in front of him. Pressing the call button for Fikar contact name. But after waiting for a few minutes, did not manage to connect.
"good. Good. Fikar must be the same as Biema. He must have also stopped by to look at the situation on the highway. So he didn't hear his phone ring." Paris reassured himself. He did not want to give up waiting for Biema to appear to greet him with many questions.
Time goes by very fast. From the last nine o'clock Paris saw the wall clock, until now it was only eleven o'clock.
"Aargh!! Where the hell is that guy. Goddamnit!" Maki Paris throws the pillow she used on the floor. His eyes are tired. Maybe this tired has been created since yesterday. When there is a fight. Then it continued this morning. The first time he left school with all the surprises given by Biema.
At school he also had to think about a new creative enemy, Priski. It is not too deep in the brain, but the results of showing a photo of him and Biema while in front of the apartment, bring a devastating impact. He immediately went down and had shed tears because he wanted to meet the man.
Not to mention the show seeking the truth of his heart. She loves Biema or not. And ... Eng, ing, eng ... Paris admits that she loves Biema. That handsome old man. From the confession it took him on shitty nights like now. Waiting for the arrival of Biema with strong determination, but broken by drowsiness.
Paris was tired of waiting for Biema who did not come home. Until finally he walked straight into the room and spread it all over the bed. Not sleeping on the floor.
The next morning she finds herself so ugly when accidentally mirrored. His mouth was wide. He found his eyes pouching. As she remembered Paris, she went into her own room at about half-twenties.
His head turned to Biema's room door. "Where are you? Why didn't you show up last night? Deliberately avoiding me, yes ...," grumbled Paris annoyed. He was sure Biema had already devised a plan to not be able to come face to face with him. So the point is Biema deliberately stayed away.
"Now is not the time to think of him. I have to shower and eat. It was to recover my lost energy in vain last night." Paris rushed to the bathroom. In the bathroom, she realized something. The guy's toothbrush wasn't there. "Maybe he no longer likes putting a toothbrush here. Habits change often." Paris shrugged her shoulders telling herself it wasn't strange.
But the curiosity is greater about this. Paris sped up her bathing ritual and immediately got out of the bathroom. His feet stepped swiftly towards the shoe rack near the entrance. He found out the truth last night. Why can't he find Biema. Now, the black shoes for the usual work the man was wearing were non-existent. Biema probably didn't come home last night.
"So I did something in vain? Waiting for him with a strong and passionate determination, it turns out that he did not come home. Biema was one step ahead to avoid me. This is a little ... No. gabe. It's very painful. Again." Paris felt a throbbing pain in his body. In his heart exactly.
This girl swallowed her own saliva. Withstand the crying that will spread. Bend both of his heels and stare at the shoe rack with a blank look.
After a few minutes in front of the shoe rack, his body stood up and moved away from it. Go to the kitchen to cook something. Noodles. Instant noodles. That was all he thought about at this moment. Cooking noodles is easy and practical.
Cellphone's ringing. Name of Fikar over there.
"Are you ready?" tanya Fikar sounds more familiar than usual. He forget. Now there is a 'caregiver' who is faithful and timely in doing his work. Paris looked up, towards the wall clock perched there.
It is time for Fikar to appear.
"Attent. I'll be down in ten minutes." After disconnecting from Fikar, Paris rushed to change his clothes with school uniforms.
Fikar was a little surprised to see Paris coming in through the front door. Usually the girl sits in the back seat.
"Do you know where Biema is now?" ask Paris directly when he is sitting. He looked at Fikar and looked at him straight.
"Biema's? Of course he's in your apartment."
"I can't meet him. Even last night I was sure he didn't come home." Fikar. "And I'm sure you know where he is."
"I no longer take him home. He came home by himself yesterday. We split up when we got home from work." Fikar starts the engine. Then run the car to their breakfast place.
"Hc ... Is he still mad at me?"
"I don't know."
"Help me to see Biema."
"Why bother asking for my help? Can't you call her phone?"
"That's true, but I'm afraid he didn't take my call. Seeing him deliberately avoid me, I'm sure he won't pick up my phone." When he said this, Paris made a sad face. But his lips are smiling. Smile pain. "Go back to school, don't pick me up."
"Where are you going?"
"Biema didn't tell you to ask, did she?" reply Paris. Fikar. "good. So don't ask."