Falling for Paris

09

Chapter 9 | Like A Fire of Jealousy

I am not a jealous person, but when I'm with you

the thought of someone else pulling your attention away from me

kills me a little inside each time.

- AVA.

--- Happy Sunday. On this Sunday, the chapter will narrate a deep feeling that makes Paris passionate. Rather than curious, let's read it. While reading, do not forget to give comments and votes from the orange button in the form of stars above :) Also, let's turn on the playlist below. The acoustic guitar that will make you feel staggered. Enjoy. ---

Everyone rumbles out of the tents after hearing the sound of sirens echoing throughout the settlement where the camp is erected. Several guys, one of whom I see wearing a black long winter coat with his dark-brown boots running toward a settlement almost close to the location of a three-color waterfall that is so beautiful when is regarded to the eye. The settlement is the location where dinner has been provided.

In my mind, what menu will be dished out by Mrs. Madeline tonight? Upon hearing that she is the chef who cooks us a meal, everybody is surrender to be proved by their applause which shows the slightest without a shout at all. I do not know anything about Mrs. Madeline's dishes, but all I heard from Madison was, the last time they ate Mrs. Madeline's meal is at the camp last year. She cooked a dish called Honey Garlic Chicken.

When served on the plate, it looked amazing to make campers held saliva when they saw it for the first time. However, when the dish entered to their mouth, everyone patched the food they ate with their own hands which in other words called vomiting due to saltiness. In fact, Mrs. Romano was exposed to hypertension after eating the food.

Madison's story while cleaning the tent had formed a smile that formed on my lips. I give up taking in the food I'm going to eat this time. Immediately I walk briskly as I put my hands into the pockets of the gray knitted sweater I wear tonight.

***

As expected, a neat dish with an amazing decoration right in front of me is indeed tasteful. For anyone who judges the performance of this dish from the look will be tempted. However, I do not know what will happen when this dish is melted into the mouth. Who is the next target of hypertension? I hope it won't be me.

As the queue in front of me led to one of the tables they are going to occupy, I start walking forward, wondering what menu I would choose to fill the rumbling of the stomach that had sounded since then. Here is a note written on a piece of paper affixed to a small board to mark the menu tonight. They are Curried Chickpea Wraps and Mediterranean Pasta Salad.

Without thinking, I choose a salad with a beautiful color bandage that looks like a ribbon. For a moment I'll get the salad on the iron table right in front of me, Madison grabs my left hand to pick up the menu next to it. It is Curried Chickpea Wraps.

My eyes are stunned as she took my hand like that. I mean, my hand is now right on the plate from a dish I do not want to taste. What is she trying to do with me? I'm really tired of eating wraps. Almost a week when I moved to California, I tried a variety of wraps making me traumatized when I saw various types of wraps.

I just realized that the queue behind my back is crowded considering my unfinished state of taking the food. Quickly, Mrs. Madeline tells me to walk quickly away from the crowd that seems to be upset.