The Paid Men and the Mafia Girls
CHAPTER 66: KEEP THE FEELING
Feeling all wrong, Jourrel only held his breath for a moment. He is in a difficult position now.
Jourrel dragged his feet back, getting closer to Tristan. Swiped Cheryl's arm trying to help her. He also seemed to ignore the girl, even though his chest was tight when doing so.
“Tan!” call Jourrel to touch Tristan's shoulder.
A familiar voice made Tristan blink his eyelids, straighten his back and circulate his gaze even though he was still not fully conscious.
A pair of netra Tristan narrowed, rubbed it for a moment then widened his pupils. “Jou?! Where are you going?! Make me worry!” exclaimed the man standing up and pulled Jourrel's shoulder into the embrace.
“Arrghh!” groaned Jourrel who felt pain with the movement.
“Tris, Jourrel is still recovering. Do not overdo it tangent with his body,” advice Cheryl whose voice is not as soft as before.
He was still wondering what mistake he made. Until suddenly Jourrel was indifferent to him. Before it was still ordinary. And even able to make him flutter.
Tristan has just noticed Cheryl's presence. He took off the hug and looked at the beautiful girl despite her messy appearance.
“Why? You injured?” tanya Tristan looked at Jourrel's body.
“Nothing. Go home. Thank you so much for looking after mom all night,” said Jourrel snatch a chair and sit on it.
“Eh but you still wear patient clothes. At least get well first!” elak Tristan's.
“No! I'm healthy. Go home, Tan. If you can please take Cheryl to her house,” reject Jourrel without turning her head. He focused on looking at the mother who was still faithful to close his eyes.
Cheryl's beautiful beads are glazed. He smiled bitterly, resisting the rate of tears that began to pool.
“Not necessary! I'm the same uncle! Sorry if I was wrong. May my mother recover. Excuse me,” said Cheryl immediately turned her body out of the room.
“Back home, Uncle. Maybe I'm interrupting!” he turned his back to Rico and walked slowly.
His steps were uninspired and looked lethargic. Rico thinks something happened to the lady. Rico opened the door violently. No one accepts Cheryl's sad.
Cheryl glanced, twisted her body as she reached quickly and immediately ran to catch Rico's suit. “Uncle!” exclaiming Cheryl held back the movement of Rico who had stepped one foot in.
“He must have hurt you ‘kan? Let's say, let me hit that wound! How dare it make you sad!” furious Rico with the roar of coarse breath.
“Uncle what the hell! I want to go home! Come!” said Cheryl tugging at Rico's suit. “Go home now!” his orders once again with a faint eye.
Rico let out his heavy breath. Inevitably, dislikes not, he still complies. His eyes were staring dislikefully at Jourrel. Then shut the door and go home with Cheryl.
The two men who were inside the room also instantly turned their eyes to the source of the commotion.
“Lu apain Cheryl? You guys fight?” Tristan probed with an intimidating look.
“A ... me? No! I'm okay,” Jourrel shook his head.
“Masa? Who was that then? Why get angry? Come on, you want some more Cheryl, Bro?” cecar Tristan who is now leaning on the edge of Mother Dina's bed, while folding both arms on the chest.
Jourrel looked up, his own eyes as if they were sad. Slightly forced a smile on his lips, “I, just keep your feelings alone,” he admitted.
“What?! Keep my feelings how you mean, huh?” pekik Tristan.
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