Love Me, Please
52. What's up with us?

What the fxck is happening right now?

Why is this Louse Snack in my room? Where did he come from? Who let him in? Why did it get here? Why did he know I was home?

Whahuh? Wh why? Wh who? When's? Over where? Hows it?

"Woy! Bengong aja lo. I know I'm that amazing, but, yeah, that's not how concerned he is either." Beckham stood on the edge of my bed and fixed the location of the sagging glasses with—you guess it—his venerable middle finger.

"Can you not if straighten a few polite glasses? Wear index, cake. Thumb, cake. Why use the middle finger, try it? Is that as unpleasant as your life to the point that you want the love of the middle finger to continue to make the world?" I really can't bear to not provoke him.

Guys genius pride of the city now then ruffled waist. His eyes were glaring displeased at me who was still lying down. "Lo and your careless mouth" he growled with all his heart, soul, and body.

"Lo and your arrogance that defeats the seventh heaven." I chimed in no less seriously either. My consciousness that was a second ago still floating in the dream world has now returned completely. Thanks to the satan spawn that standing beside my deb right the fxck now.

"Why, you don't want to give up?"

"Why should I give up?"

Beckham swore softly, barely audible. But what do you want to say? My ears are well memorized by such sounds. Especially lately, when we have started to get used to each other's strange behavior. I don't understand why he had to hide those words. It's not that my ears are still "holy" from the contamination.

"Was I lo?" accuse me without further ado.

The word once again came out of his mouth.

"What the fuck?" I immediately rise. A tofu-know pillow has been in the grasp. Lavender-coated objects patterned with flowers floated and met with his chest.

For the third time, he swore. This time in plain view. "Fxck." His body became a bit oyong due to the effect of my punch so he balanced the body by taking a step back.

"Can? Still as good as you maki-maki people. I don't have an adab!"

Before I could hit him back, the young man dodged. Beck even caught my wrist. "Can, no, you don't have to use violence?"

I jerked his grip. "Can, no, you don't have to hold?"

"Fxck this!" he shouted while raising both hands of surrender marks and turning around. "I shouldn't have come here. I should have known it was gonna happen." He nags himself.

Seeing Beckham walking towards the door, I was suddenly surrounded by confusion. Loh, what, he's gone? "Woy, Beck!" call me in a hurry to stand up to chase him. "Where are you going?"

"Go home" he said without feeling the need to look back. "My regret is your nyamperin."

"Eh, uh, uh, can't do that, dong!" I defied his decision to leave me. "Lo, right, it's here. Where can I go straight back like this," I repetted on Beck's back.

What I chased after suddenly stopped and turned around. As a result of the sudden action, I was unable to control the move and hit him. "Ow!" I kept squealing when my right cheekbones collided with something hard.

"Fxck." In the arcians Beckham sizzled.

However, I don't care. The center of my attention is the pain that obscures my vision. I cupped one hand over the painful part while continuing to grimace.

"Silver, Nikita. You okay?" Sounds Beck asked, anxiety adorns the tone of his speech.

Not long ago I said, another voice joined us. "Non Niki! Non why?" Warm, rough hands immediately touch the skin. With care Mrs. Crane is herding my hand leaving my face. "Why, Non? Aunt heard a scream."

Again before I had a chance to answer, Beckham had already cut in first. "I'm wrong, Bi. I was not careful and hit Nikita. Looks like my chin hit his right cheekbones."

Yes, Beckham Lee Pierce. You are abso-fxcking-lutely right. It is indeed the wrong.

"Oh, so. Yeah, already. Wait a minute, yeah, Non. Aunty get me an ice pack first to compress. Please help Non Nikita get into her room again, yes, Nak Beckham." Then there was the sound of hurried steps down the stairs.

My palm kept coming back to my cheek which now felt hot and throbbing. It feels a bit familiar. Parallel ....

Oh, my God. No!

"Sir, hey." Beck's voice now sounded soft, but even softer his watch that shook on my chin. "I'm sorry. It must be really painful, huh?"

I could only bite my lips to hold back the cry that wanted to explode. I don't want to make Beckham misunderstand and feel more guilty about my crying. And I also don't want to think about the thing in the past that was the real reason for this sedu sedan.

I cleared my throat before saying, "Son, really. I'm okay."

"What's wrong? Lo until it cries that way," he argued. "Your eyes are not open anymore. What's the eye, not the cheek?"

The confusion within Beck's voice made the young man sound even more innocent. Did he really mean it when he questioned it? "My cheeks. But, I haven't been able to open my eyes because of the pain and the heat felt up there." I told you.

"Well, I'm really sorry, Nik. I did not intentionally. The oath!"

"Yes, it's okay. I was wrong about you too." I replied, trying to make it escape from the useless taste that was eating away at him.

"Who? How are you still here? Help her Non Nikita to the room, dong, Nak Beckham! How, anyway?" Mrs. The unexpected Crane has returned to rebuke us. Especially for the guy who thought he was fully responsible for the misfortune that had just happened to me.

Still with my eyes closed, I chuckled at Mrs' expression. Crane is certainly half upset now. "It's okay, Bi. Mana, here's the ice pack let Niki wear it himself. Aunty take a break."

"But, Non—"

"It's okay, Bi." I'm convincing.

And Beckham was quite helpful when he was hoarding and supporting my statement. "Yes, Bi. Here, let me hold it. I'll watch out for Nikita."

"But, it's his eyes Non still–"

Not yet Mrs. Crane's been cut again. "Udah, really, Bi. Look, here." I slowly opened my right eye which honestly was not too painful. Then I blinked. At that moment, one tear fell. To remove the worry that was tearing his face, I laughed. "Udah, Bi. Aman."

The middle-aged woman still seemed to doubt.

"Hm. Then Auntie can make us sandwiches, right? I'm really hungry, I haven't had lunch."

Hearing my confession, Mrs's face. Crane's turning into more horror. "Yes, God, Non Nikita! How come you haven't eaten yet, anyway? Yeah, already. Wait, yeah. Aunty made it for her friends too" she said like Beckham wasn't there. "You want lemonade what's cold tea?"

"A drink of energy if there is, Bi," Beck said.

I glanced at him. This child has been given the heart even ask for the heart. Hadheh. Substantial. "Make me a lemonade, Bi. Thank you." - Thank you."

Mrs. Crane's headed to the kitchen.

"More." Beckham offered an instant ice pack delivered by Mrs. Cranes. "Purpose job."

"Thanks," I said as I placed it in an area of pain. I think, yes, God .... I hissed as the cold met the hot part and began to swell.

Beckham followed my steps back to the room. "Well, why is it like this, anyway?" he murmured more to himself.

"So, don't know me." I put my shoulders down.

I threw my body on the bed. While the wavy-haired guy prefers to sit in the front seat of my study desk. "Gue's gonna get in trouble again, right?"

"You mean?" ask me not to understand.

"No." He nodded towards my face. "Gue will definitely get more trouble from your guy." Take a deep breath before fully leaning on the body and exhaling carbon dioxide into the air. "Why is it that every meeting is never a drama, huh? There's aaaa what happened. Wonder me."

Yes, Beckham. I was also surprised. There is always something that triggers this emotion in us every time we interact. What's wrong with us?

To be continued ....