The High School Bad Boy
Chapter 68. Elle Est Indonesienne, Ta Copine?

MARAIS, PARIS.

"Attendez une minute, s'il vous plait (wait a minute), Madame," Max told a middle-aged black woman and her son he was painting. The woman, who had claimed to be a tourist from Martinique Island, smiled and nodded.

He reached for the phone that rang in his pocket. Check the screen and read the Eloise name listed there.

"Oui, Eloise?"

"Max, t'es ou (where are you)?"

"Marie's Pont ...."

"I'm there now, I have something to talk about."

"Emmm .. d'accord (okay)."

Max hangs up the phone and puts it back in his pocket.

"Sole (sorry)" Max said to the two customers as he picked up the brush and palette he had placed on a small folding table beside him. He continued to scratch his acrylic paint onto the canvas which was only the last touch.

Fifteen minutes later Max had finished his painting and asked Mom and the boy to check it out.

"C'est magnifique (this is great)," praised the woman with a happy face. He looks satisfied with the results of Max's realist paintings are close to perfect. "Combien (how)?" tanyakanya.

"200 euros," Max replied.

The woman took two hundred euros from her wallet and held it out to Max.

"Merci, Madame" said Max as he received the green sheets. "The painting will be dry in about thirty minutes, madam. You wanna wait here?" bargained for.

"We'll go around first."

Max nodded. He then began to fix his painting equipment. The woman and her son decided to be her last customer today. Stretching of his fingers muscles that feel stiff while leaning back on the fence Pont Marie bridge.

His pair of eyes caught the figure of Eloise among the passersby in front of him. He returned the smile of the girl who was waiting for him.

"Hi, Max," said Eloise with sparkling eyes. He walked over to Max and stood beside the young man. "Well, you done?" he asked while looking at Max's large bag that seemed to have been filled with equipment. The girl was also amazed to see Max's painting still attached to the easel.

"Yeah," said Max short.

"How many people did you paint today?"

"Emmm .. six people."

"Wow .. a lot. Usually you only receive two or three customers in one day."

Max chuckles. "I'm expanding my savings for the winter holidays."

"Where are you going on vacation?"

"L'indonesie (indonesia)," Max replied with a big smile.

"Away. You don't want to go to Spain?"

Max shook his head. "I want to accompany my girlfriend back there."

Eloise's smile faded at Max's words. But he tried to hide the pain that suddenly hit his chest.

"Elle est Indonesienne, ta copine (your Indonesian boyfriend)?" eloise asked with a rumbling chest.

"Oui ...." Max nodded steadily. "You said you wanted to talk about something, Eloise?"

"Ah, yes ...." Eloise confirmed the location of the scarf on her neck. "Sorbonne held a scholarship program this year. For the Faculty of Fine Arts there are ten slots available. If you're interested, I can get the form for you." He could have delivered it over the phone. But he thinks this could be his reason for meeting Max.

"Ah, bon ... c'est genial (ohya, very good)," said Max happily. "Merci, Eloise."

The brown-haired girl smiled. "I'm sure you'll be accepted. They already know Monsieur Bruno Le Maire bought your painting. That could be a plus for you, Max."

"Want a beer?" bargain Eloise.

"Emm .. sorry, Eloise, I have an appointment with my boyfriend tonight."

Eloise let out a disappointed breath. He came with the intention of wanting to spend a little time with Max tonight, but reality says otherwise. "Maybe next time" he said, forcing his smile.

"Sole (sorry)," said Max. He could catch the disappointment on Eloise's face. It seems that the girl is trying to hide it.

"C'est pas grave (it's okay)" said Eloise with a bitter smile.

***

Just when Wulan finished making her bed, the door of her apartment was knocked by someone. He stepped out of his room and opened the door immediately.

His smile rang out as soon as he saw Max standing there, with a large bag on his back and a wooden easel in his right hand.

"Hello, good painter, please come in" his god opened the door of his apartment.

Max heard Wulan's joke. Then he stepped in and went straight to his master Mother's room.

Wulan immediately closed the door and followed Max into her room. He saw that the young man was preparing his equipment.

Moments after he finished, he looked at Wulan who was standing by the door while leaning her back against the wall of the room.

"Give me a hug" Max asked, opening his arms wide. Cueing Wulan to come into her arms.

Wulan's tiny body has now been grabbed and she is held close by lovingly. He felt the warmth of the woman he loved so much. Evaporates a longing that never subsides, as often as he meets her.

"Je t'aime (i love you), Wulan," she whispered softly.

"You've said it a lot, Max."

"Just be wild. I want to say it every day."

The two held each other for quite a while. Sip each other at the smell of their bodies. Gently rub each other's backs. Their love grows stronger every day.

"Reponds-moi (answer me)," whispered Max back.

"Je t'aime aussi (i love you too)"

Max smiled as he let go of his embrace. He took Wulan to the bed. Then sit him on the edge.

He knelt down in front of Wulan. His Mother Master's arm was soft while his gaze could not be separated from the face of the woman of his heart. His hands moved slowly passing the buttons of Wulan's clothes one by one.

His palm began to creep away from Wulan's clothes starting from his shoulders, then lowered them slowly to down to his waist. He continued his movement to pass the Wulan clothes until not a thread was stuck there.

"Lay, Miss," she whispered.

Wulan complied with Max's request. He raised his legs on the bed and lay on his side. One arm he had on the side of his head.

Max looked at the beautiful body full of desire.

"Allow me to pour every inch of your beautiful body into the canvas ...."

***

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Martinique Island is in the Caribbean and is an island under the rule of the French Republic. So the people there speak French. (For those who want to know why Max speaks French with the Mother and child he paints).

Connected yak?

I'm so sleepy😁😁😁