Love Me, Please
22. Here We Go Again

"I can do it, right, Yang? I got here, so lazy to come back."

Kayden's haggard face and eyes don't make me turn my eyes. If only his looks were not that sluggish, of course I would mock him for using a really lame excuse like a lazy who just came out of his mouth. After all, indeed, this was already past from midnight. I can't bear to tell her to walk alone this late.

"Yes, change clothes there. That's why I used the bathroom."

"Thank you, honey," he said, peeping at my forehead.

I exhaled a long breath. Kalbu never wave again.

God.

I tried to make sense while preparing a change of clothes for Kayden in a walk-in closet that was also connected to the bathroom. She had already started putting her clothes on the sidelines of my wardrobe since the tenth grade, when we started getting to know and participate in activities called after party after the Lions match. I put a thin white sweatshirt and gray sweatpants on the table next to the door.

Yep, you guess it. Because of his frequent stays, Kayden now has a special section for his clothes in my closet.

I replaced him immediately after he finished. I stripped all the clothes on the body. The objects were then joined together with the dirty cloth that Kayden was wearing earlier in the basket.

Stepping me down the water that came from the shower system. Curesapi nan taste caused by the points that a tub of warm water falls soaking the skin. I'm sighing. Instantly, the muscles that have been forced to work become more slack. The whole. No exception .. heart.

Free is the end. Anything that from now on, all day long, has been pressed hard, dipped deep, faked so that it feels so real; it has melted down. The defense has collapsed. Mask shed.

I don't know what. Shower and tears are no different. The two have become one. I washed and washed my whole body.

Long enough I stood under the shower before deciding to finish. I then switched to the sink. After wiping off the steam covering the mirror, I finally came face to face with my reflection.

The girl stood in a towel. His exposed skin seemed to glow red due to the attack of warm water for too long. So much with his face. Not only pink, his eyes are bland.

His gaze did reflect what was in his complex heart; worried, afraid, sad, angry, and disappointed swimming around in that sea of bright brown pupils. The corners of his lips are no longer high, now it is too easy to follow gravity.

The water is sad.

Even falling on his shoulders makes him look more poignant.

Who her? Where's me?

I shook my head quickly to hold back the rate of tears that returned to pool. After that, I took a deep breath and challenged the shadow that lay before me.

I said to him, "No, Nikita. You can't cry. Can't be fragile. Can't be another stumbling block for Kayden. You have to be strong for him. He sacrificed a lot for you. Now it's time for you to repay all his kindness."

When I came out of the dressing room, I found Kay who had sailed to dreamland. His body was laid to the side, facing the side of my bed. The sleeping lights on the nightstand are gone.

Although the carpet can muffle the sound of steps, still I whisked towards the mattress. I gently tip the blanket over before laying down the body slowly next to it.

I noticed his handsome face was calm in the constellation. Want this heart to trace every curve, line, whole section with fingertips, but I paled. Don't want to disturb him and keep him awake.

Various emotions were raging again in the chest. Silently the clear grains slipped out, slid from the corner of the eye, and ended up on a pillow of goose neck feathers.

"I love you, baby. I'm sorry, yeah."

****

The knock on the door woke me up. Half-conscious, I glanced at the nightstand. The LED light shows at 7:35 AM. I groan.

It's too early.

"What is it?" My brain immediately registered Kayden's voice. The sleepiness and prone position make the sentence sound like "whut us ut".

"nothing. Most Mrs. Crane," I answered no less hoarsely. A yawning interrupts. "Sleep. I'll be right back." I pecked the corner of his lips before half-heartedly rising.

Sure enough, I found Mrs. Crane is standing behind the door. A Mrs. Crane that looks a bit.

"Yes, Bi?" I yawned again.

"Ng, that, Non." Mrs. Crane avoided my gaze before continuing. "Ng, Sir. Master is waiting for Non to eat."

Gail looks increasingly restless. "Y-yes, Nope."

"When is Papa coming home?"

"Overnight, Non."

"Who's the guy?" my brother again half in a hurry and half whispering.

"By yourself."

I .. I don't feel happy that Papa is home, but, on the one hand, I'm not happy that he's not bringing her into our house anymore. "OK, huh, Bi. Thank you. I washed my face down, yeah."

"Good, Non."

I purposely used the bathroom in a room that was on the other side of this floor. I didn't want to wake Kay up and explain anything to her.

I told you that I was too ashamed of my family's current condition.

In the dining room—shxt, this dining room again—I found Papa sitting on a chair at the head of the table while reading the newspaper. A steaming cup of coffee was already available in front of him. Not yet eight in the morning on Saturday, he was ready with a full suit.

Hm.

How I miss the weekend spent with breakfast in bed while watching cartoons flanked by Papa and Mama who also still use pajamas. Or watch Papa make breakfast, then eat together with Mama who is already too weak to go down and just wait in their room. Ah, how I miss the scrambled egg champion made by Papa.

I've been getting seriously jealous of the old me lately.

"Sit down, Nikita."

I didn't realize that Papa had realized my arrival. I followed my only remaining parent's will without a sound by throwing his butt in the chair opposite him.

Three and a half meters more distance between us feels not far enough.

How I miss the closeness we once had.

"Kayden's still asleep?"

I'm looking. Staring at the middle-aged man whose DNA was flowing inside my body. He sipped his favorite Mandheling Sumatra black coffee steeping directly imported from Indonesia in his cup with shahdu.

"Yes," I said briefly. Definitely Mrs. Crane told Papa that Kay stayed here last night.

"How are you?"

I choked on my own saliva. What the heck? How's things? How'S SHE DOING?Screw that! How about, before asking how are people's children, you ask how are your own children, dear Mr Adam Patrick Levine?

This chest is starting to narrow, it feels a bit difficult to breathe. However, as hard as I can struggle to look like Papa's question just thrown it has no impact on this self. "Good," I replied as I crossed my arms around my chest.

Papa nodded from behind the sheet of newspaper. "Still a football star?"

I'm throats. "Yep."

"He is really talented."

There is one tone that makes a sentence that has just been said meaningful. There is one point—di in the intonation that he uses can not be denied managed to make himself feel insinuated. Therefore, I only responded to Papa's sentence with an "hm" as a sign that I was still listening to him.

Hearing, feeling, but not with the chest.

Later Papa folded the newspaper and squeezed it with both arms on the table. His fingers are intertwined with each other. "Papa received a call from the Vice Principal yesterday."

Oh, about this. Here we go.

To be continued ....