His Purpose
50. Complementaries

"Hal .. well?"

"Hm. You said you never got a single good thing from me. Now tell me, what good thing you mean. What am I supposed to do?"

Maria blinked with her mouth moving in confusion. He screamed inwardly regretting his uncontrollable words while in Gibran's study. But compared to that, Maria is more curious why Gibran asked that question.

"Why did Koko ask?"

There was a pause just before Gibran replied. "Because I'm your husband."

Silent. The wind accompanied the two in silence. A pair of Gibran's eyes could not be seen fixed on Mary, even Mary who seemed to feel locked in the darkness of Gibran's view.

He's riveted. The black net of the man inevitably always pulled him to drown in the foreign vortex that ensnared him. Maria only blinked as pain approached her eyes that were too long staring at Gibran.

He looked down, nervous about the situation he was in. Although he often berated and mengatai Gibran secretly, but the original Maria ciut if face to face with the man. Especially with this close. Oh, my God, Maria's heart feels almost beyond help.

"That's ..."

"A ... Aaa ... Hacihh!" Maria rubbed her itchy nose. "Given up!"

"That's ... I ... Hacih!"

Maria couldn't stop the sneezing that suddenly interrupted them. His hands were endlessly rubbing his nose which had now turned red. The sneezing continued until Maria's nose began to water.

Without asking Gibran to take off the coat he was wearing and spread it out to cover Mary's body. "We're back at the Mansion."

Gibran was about to stand up when Mary held his hand and shook her head. "I still want to be here. Hacih!"

Gibran's eyes drew sharp, "Don't argue. You'll get sick if you stay here. Troublesome."

Mary frowned, she removed her grip from Gibran's hand and turned to look at the lake.

"So Koko asked a good question, right?"

"Koko's nature like this is a bad thing for me."

"Why does Koko always curse me?" maria was upset. His forehead creased along with a sharp whimper.

"When did I curse?"

"That! Koko said I was a hassle. If you want to go home, go home first! I still want to be here." Mary hugged herself as she clenched Gibran's overcoat, so much so that it drowned her body.

There was no response from Gibran. Maria didn't know the man was breathing a long sigh trying to thicken his patience. His eyes closed for a moment with his mouth tightly shut.

Soon Gibran's hand was outstretched before him. Maria looked confused.

"Follow me."

Maria blinked staring alternately between Gibran's expressionless hands and face.

"Where?"

"Follow it out."

Mary hesitated to grab Gibran's palm. A warm feeling immediately surrounded Mary's cold fingers.

Mary stood up and began to walk after Gibran. Apparently the man took Maria to a gazebo half a round from where Maria was sitting.

Far enough for the lazy Mary to walk. But, it paid off with a more promising view. From there Mary could see the landscape of the lake more clearly and thoroughly.

Maria sneezed back. Gibran led him to sit on a bench facing the panorama. Maria was stunned, she was stunned in the midst of her troublesome body condition.

"Given up!"

"Why is it so cold in here?" murmured Maria while closing her legs wrapped in high heels with open models. His fingers bent in cold resistance.

It did not escape the attention of Gibran who immediately clucked. Without speaking he moved to sit down, cross-legged, and then grabbed Mary's feet into his lap.

His hands removed one by one Maria's high heels and began rubbing Mary's soles and instep alternately.

Mary watched it in silence. He was too surprised by Gibran's sudden impressed action. His eyes were nervous. Again his heart beat uncharacteristically in response to Gibran's touch.

The man seemed to warm his feet. While Mary, her hands clenched, tightly squeezed Gibran's thick, fragrant coat.

His blood is warm. His smile immediately rose as the ticklishness tickled his stomach. God, what happened to her body? Why is he so happy to respond to Gibran's attention?

Maria touched her hand on Gibran's cheek, leaving the man aghast at her. Maria was surprised because she did not expect the reflex movement.

Jesus, why is Mary's heart always more dominating than her common sense.

Maria stammered, "A-Anu .. That, looks like Koko is also cold."

Although Gibran was wearing a turtle neck sweater, the man's face was still cold when Maria touched it.

Gibran again turned his attention to Maria's feet. "I'm fine" he said indifferently.

Maria sneers. Suddenly he pulled his foot from Gibran's lap, making Gibran immediately frown at Mary.

Maria said nothing. He asked Gibran to turn his body forward. Although it was a little difficult in the end the man complied and turned his seat back to Mary.

Maria herself changed the position of her legs to flank Gibran. Again the man turned his head in wonder, especially when Mary slipped her legs between Gibran's arms and ended up circling the man's belly from behind.

"What?" ask Gibran not understand.

Maria throws a wide grin. "Then we complement each other."

Not enough to get there. Maria also leaned slightly against Gibran's neck, until Gibran's coat wrapped around him completely enveloped him.

Mary rested her chin on the head of Gibran. His eyes were closed enjoying the comfort he felt. Finding Gibran speechless, Maria shook her legs trying to resuscitate the man.

"Remain ..."

Gibran gulped. His hands began to rub the calves up to the smooth soles of Maria's feet without feathers. Although it initially felt awkward and stiff, but gradually Gibran's body squeezed even unconsciously his back leaned back.

The two stared straight ahead, at the bluish lake that bore witness to their closeness this time.

"Why are you still wearing a dress in this weather?" gibran asked with his hands unceasingly rubbing Maria's feet.

"Just want to" answered Maria.

Gibran grunting.

"I like skirts. Because skirts make women look more beautiful."

Gibran did not ask again. She knew Maria was a very feminine woman.

"Also this dress is almost half calf length, so it is not too cold, let alone thick material."

A moment of silence accompanied them. Mary opened her voice again.

"Koko," he called.

"Hem." Gibran said relax.

"Have we met before? Why does Koko's hand feel familiar to me?"

Gibran fell silent, and his hands stopped rubbing Mary's feet. A few seconds passed before Gibran resumed his movements.

"Maybe it's just your feelings."

Mary blinked as she thought. "Is that so?" he was half unsure. "Yes .. Maybe I'm the one who thinks too strange. After all, we first met at the pelaminan, haha ..." He laughed blandly, completely unaware of Gibran's glaring gaze.