About the Heart

Exchange Stories

"Rawooon ...," cried full of excitement when just sitting in the chair and see the typical cuisine of Java timuran berkah black.

"Mbak, please, deh! Don't lebay. Meet rawon just a twilight cower to meet Nadeo," kinky Kristy as usual.

My hands were busy picking up rice while the others were still engrossed in conversation. "I've never met Nadeo."

"Why did you meet Nadeo? I'm the same, aja," Dion said, receiving a plate of rice with a dull sauage on it.

"Related, dear," I chirped without hesitation to call out affection in front of Mama and Kristy.

"What flavor? Don't be naughty" said Dion, pinching my nose.

"Ma, tomorrow we buy Jupiter! Contracting continues in the world, never considered," chirped Kristy casually insinuating our fun-loving without feeling shy.

Mama just smiled in response to Kristy's apogee. "You'll know that love, too."

"Skak mat," I said without seeing the look on my sister's face.

In my heart, is it good? Love makes you a robot. The difference is that love is not controlled by computer programs but controlled by the heart. If the robot is only fixated on the program created for him, love actually makes the culprit become bucin. The same is controlled by its owner. Such is love and robots in the equation.

"Mas, if Mas does not like rawon do not be forced to like because of Sister Rosa," said Kristy unyielding.

"At first I had no interest, Kris, but so I wanted to try because it was always exhibited by Dahlia if rawon made her mother Abi delicious not kelulungan," Dion began to tell a long history of his adventures with the black gravy.

"Dahlia who?" ask me to feel foreign to the name I believe belongs to a woman.

"My distant brother who lives in Surabaya, dear," explained Dion as she stroked my hair, calming the jealousy that began to seep.

"Don't ask Abi who, Ma'am?" sela Kristy

"Abi it's Dahlia's brondong," Dion replied casually.

Brondong's? Ish .. not really, really. There is no love for Adam under my age. Same minimum? It is better to look a little like Mr. Aryan rather than clutter. Oops! Why bring Mr. Aryan, anyway? For me that fitting age was three years above me. Doesn't that mean Mas Rud? Nope-no-no! Why is that coincidence. The perfect one for Rosa is Dion, already a POINT.

"Definitely abi gebetannya much, huh? Ma'am-mbak aja dijabanin," I guess cornered, carried away my anti-loving thoughts younger men.

"Sensi, really, Ma'am. They're the only ones who don't have a problem, really," Kristy said.

"You like brondong, too?" my investigation is ready to prohibit if it's true.

"Mending choose the age above you, Kris. Indeed, maturity is not determined by age but life experiences are still different," suggested Dion who I agree.

"Mas Aryan in means, huh?" chirp Kristy with a smile.

Mama who had chosen to be a listener finally began to be interested in our chat. "Are all of your men really leveling up? From brother to darling," Mother teased us all.

"Ohya, did Tya really have a crush on Aryan?" dion asked who might suddenly remember the woman he had just met this afternoon, when Mama mentioned her son.

"The office bug says 'that's it, anyway. And I see that too" I explained, adding to my meal.

"Bigos?" Dion doesn't understand the abbreviation of the word I'm using.

"Gossip monger," I replied briefly because I was talking while chewing.

"I have a rival?" sela Kristy is curious.

"The person is beautiful, you lose competitiveness, back off, aja!" my orders.

"Don't give up, Chris! Imitate Mas Dionmu, here," Dion's spirit raised his right hand.

"Excite, Mas!" Kristy raised her hand like Dion.

Will my little sister be a love fighter like her brother-in-law? Ah, bodo amatlah. Being the brother-in-law of Mr. Aryan is also not a sin. That doesn't matter. What will be a problem is if I can not enjoy this delicious rawon made by Mama. Spirit, eat!

*****

"Well, Sister Rosa! If the innate satiety is sleepy," chirped Kristy as soon as she saw me yawn repeatedly.

"Sleep first, aja, Yang," suggested Dion who I immediately replied by laying down my body on the carpet in front of the television.

"Next Friday, you are ready for the blessing to record your marriage, yes. It's the Sunday night, the reception" Mama explained, starting to discuss our wedding celebration.

"Yes, Ma. The invitation list from our friends has also been sent to Kristy, kok, Ma," obviously Dion who was bothered only for the business of fitting clothes that were done last afternoon and also registered prospective invited guests from our acquaintances.

"Good, you guys just prepare for health. Don't be tired!" message Mama Dion with her friendly smile.

"It looks like your wife is not strong enough to be literate, move to the room, aja, sana!" mom's orders. You have to work tomorrow" Mama recalled.

My soul, who had crossed half of it into the dreamland, had not yet fully returned when Dion took me in his arms, left Mama and Kristy, climbed the stairs and entered the room. Return to lay any body in bed.

"Brush your teeth before going to bed" recalled Dion who went straight into the bathroom as soon as I collapsed.

I feel like a slovenly miss if I have faced my husband who really keeps the cleanliness. Maybe that's how people are, mutually. Complement each other, remind each other, each other and that is always him who does. It really amazes me, why is my man so flawless perfect.

The thought of it all made my drowsiness disappear instantly. I who initially looked up at the ceiling of the room, rolled over and chose the stomach while smiling like a new ABG exposed to the first love virus.

So deep was my imagination that I did not realize that the character who made me float was sitting on the edge of the bed while observing my ridiculous behavior. Her gentle caress to my hair deepened the wandering wild mind.

"Which, clean yourself first," he whispered softly in my ear.

That melodious voice was actually able to break through the cracks of my imagination. Slowly bring it back to the real world. I realized that I had been observed by a pair of eyes that had been smiling happily. I shyly revealed an awkward smile and immediately moved to move quickly to the bathroom. I'm ashamed, because all my silly behavior is out of his sight. And all of that was only responded to with her perfect smile.

*****

"Mas ...," call me soft.

"Hmm," Dion replied briefly by wrapping his hand around my stomach while his chin was tugging at the skin of my shoulder.

"May I ask?" askaku full of caution.

"Rud?" guess it without waiting for my question.

I turned my body, facing him. Look at the black and white circles gently. "Why don't you let me go back to him?"

"Because I don't want to see you get hurt again because of it" she replied as she gently stroked my cheek.

"Why are you sure he's gonna come back to hurt me?" the follow-up question I dared to ask after seeing her reaction to my first question.

"I can't guarantee he won't hurt you again. But I can be sure if I let you go, then I will completely leave you alone. Therefore I do not want to take the risk, your happiness should not be contested," explained Dion who made me unable to hold back tears, moved.

I took her hand that caressed my cheek. Put it into my chest. "Don't leave me, again!"

"I'm here, for you." assuringly, a kiss on the forehead he gushed with great emotion.

"Mas, I'm full of flaws. Regret you've fought for me so far?" my question is getting more continuous.

"I have loved your shortcomings. Your worries are useless, dear," he replied, increasingly realizing that there was no reason for me to replace them with others who are still chasing me.

"Including my heart?" my search.

"I have made peace with your heart that has always been nowhere for me for more than ten years," again, Dion silenced my ever-doubting heart.

"Can I ask you to love me forever? Like this, just as endlessly," I asked with teary eyes.

"Without you asking, I have done and will continue to do so" he said gently, bringing his face closer to mine.

His breathing was getting warmer. Awakening a turmoil that gives birth to a desire to be possessed by a tenderness. The lips were getting closer and made me powerless to bite my own lower lip.

"Come, we're making a story here!"

"Aren't we talking here?" ask me to bend the direction of the purpose of the conversation.

"The third season's story, dear," she replied in a seductive voice.

"Don't, drought, darling. Pity our author, said to be naughty with Brother Jo Whylant author "The world of Abhimanyu" because of season two we yesterday," my reason is avenged by a sly smile from Dion.

"Sister Jo is envious, dear. Ignore it!" timpal Dion did not accept my refusal.

"Look, just! Surely he can't guess what's going on" Dion's idea is to hide under the covers. Both fumbled in warmth.

"Don't move much outside the rules, honey," Dion recalled locking my movements in the dark.

"Quiet, honey, my bed is firm. Not Rianti's creaking bed in "Married Contract".

******

Curious about characters outside "About the Heart"?

Check out these two novels below!