Conviction of a Cruel Man (Design Wound)

Cie ... cie ....

In car.

'Damn it!'

'Fuck!'

'Beshit!'

The harsh words just kept coming out when there were people blocking the speed of his vehicle. Not to forget, he also pressed the horn many times until people stared strangely at their cars that drove above average. Forfeiture? Yes, maybe that's what other riders say considering how selfish Irwan is to take the streets.

"M-mas, slow down, danger." Design reminds. How to drive Irwan awkwardly made him hold his breath several times. Afraid of causing an accident.

"Mas Irwan!" exclaims Design that has paled. Grip tightly the hand grip that is above the head.

"Hm, why?" ask Irwan ketus. His eyes were focused on the front, but it was obvious that he was trying to contain anger. How not to get angry? Irwan who so upholds self-esteem, today broken, trampled in dirty mud. Old and ugly? Huh! The reason was strong enough for Irwan to go berserk.

"We pull over first, Mas." The designer ventured, touching Irwan's shoulder while developing a smile that clearly left a trace of awkwardness.

Without asking much, Irwan pulled over his car at a roadside park. Unbuckle your seat belt and get out of the car. Bamb! The door blow proved that the level of anger in Irwan had reached its peak. He took a few breaths and threw them away slowly. Muffling the unopposed resentment.

"Maas ...." The design called out in a soft voice. Approaching Irwan who was standing with his eyes closed.

"Mas, here." The designer held Irwan's hand and pulled him slowly. He sat on an iron chair and faced each other.

Irwan who still can not dampen his emotions turned his face, did not want Reka affected.

"Mas Irwan, please look at me," asked Reka in a loving voice. Grasping Irwan's right hand that had formed a fist.

Feeling unresponsive, Reka also cupped the sour face of Irwan with both hands. "Mas, calm down," said Reka again, staring intensely at Irwan's eyes that moved wildly, hatefully.

"How can I calm down? They're mocking me, Reka. They openly scorned me. Old and ugly? Huh, shit!" Irwan again growled, tightening his jaw and breathing began to be heard hunting.

"They were little, Mom. So don't take heart. Anyway, I think it's handsome, really."

Glegs! His saliva swallows. Surprised by his own words. Crazy, I must have lost my mind. How can I talk like that. Inner design, sorry. Thoughts are not in line with speech.

Irwan chuckled blandly. "Handsome? a liar!" Irwan clapped his hands from his face. "If I'm that handsome, why don't you want me to touch it?"

Reka. Don't know how to answer Irwan's question. She was bowed in, thinking of a way out so that her husband could calm down and they could continue on.

"Honestly, am I so disgusted that you insult me without blinking" Irwan said. The narrow mind dominates him. Just because he was called 'ugly' by a small child, he was immediately angry.

"No, it's not like that." The designer lifted his head, closed his eyes for a moment and let out a slow breath. Alright, I will follow Bik Sum's advice. Everyone deserves a second chance. Allah is Forgiving. The designer took a deep breath back, bismillah.

"Mas Irwan, look at me," call Reka again. But Irwan was unmoved, still turning his back. Plan a slow pull of Irwan's sturdy shoulder until their eyes are square.

"Why? Still want to menghija" Irwan blinked, can not continue the word because Reka had already played on his lips. The amateur game that made Irwan's fire rage die instantly.

Five seconds, a kiss that landed only five seconds, but was able to make Irwan feel adrift in the open ocean, he wanted to dock immediately. But baby, Reka had already left herself in the car.

Silent, the car went back. Both are in each other's minds. It had been half an hour since Reka landed her lips, but the effect of those five seconds was truly incredible. Irwan's chest, like that of an atomic bomb, was so strong that he could feel it clearly. Shit, why am I so groggy?

"Mas, we're looking for the nearest mosque, yeah. I want to pray magrib," said Reka mediate silence among them. His red face held the embarrassment of having acted aggressively.

Put them in the courtyard of the mosque. The mosque is not too big but crowded with worshipers who want to fulfill their obligations. "I pray first, Mas," said Reka after taking the mukena in the dashboard drawer. Then stepped leaving her husband leaning back in the car seat. Irwan looked out the window, noticing the calm faces of the people who entered the mosque. Suddenly it was clear that his conversation with Ardi had occurred. Small talk that can make Irwan hate his past. Where he used to be so busy with world affairs, but unfortunately never once felt happy. Hyus .... Irwan took a deep breath, rubbing his huffed face with one hand.

Soon the azan reverberated, the sound of muezzin echoed melodiously, calling on Muslims to carry out their obligations. A call that somehow could shake Irwan's heart. Leaving a twinkling of comfort as well as sadness in every tone heard. "I miss mami." Irwan sighed again, closing his eyes. Resisting longing does not come to the figure of a woman who always advises and teaches him about religion, talking about heaven and hell, about the goodness of God and so on. But, when the figure was gone, Irwan became forgotten, he loved and committed a lot of sins. Oh my God, forgive me. With light steps Irwan entered into the mosque.

****

At the dining table.

The designs incessantly stole glances, glancing in full search at Irwan who was enjoying dinner.

Why is he so weird. Slapped by a death angel or what? inner Design. Surprised by Irwan's unexpected appearance. He who used to use plain t-shirts, now uses a dark brown robe. Not to forget the head too.

"Why look at me like that? Never wiggled a man wearing a robe? Or, fascinated by my good looks?" said Irwan rising, but still with a flat tone.

Degh's!

The heart is pumped fast, making the new rice half way out, "Uhuk, uhuk, water."

The designer hit his chest. His face was flushed red, trying to stop the cough that made it difficult for him to take a breath.

"Ck, so eat it slowly." Irwan got up from the chair, poured water into the glass and gave it to the choking Design, "Drink."

The water-out plan. Pushing food that is still stuck in the throat. "That's because of you, Mom." The design nags with already reddened and watery eyes.

"Well, I was wrong. Who told you to eat in a hurry, who?" Irwan is no less fierce.

"That's because Mas's talk makes no sense," replied Reka did not want to lose. He got up from the chair and looked at Irwan boldly.

"How absurd?" Irwan repeated the words of Reka.

The designer did not answer, he just turned his face to the side.

"Let's clear, the part that 'never seen anyone wear a dress shirt' or the 'handsome' part'?" Irwan squinted, becoming interested upon seeing the change in Reka's expression. The face that had been about to challenge turned into a wave. So adorable, thought Irwan, engraved a smile on his stern face.

"Aren't you the one who said I'm a handsome guy?" seduce Irwan by lowering his voice. Approaching Reka's face by pulling next to her lips. "Did you forget? Or ... Do I need to remind you?" A perverted look was clearly visible on Irwan's eyeballs. He drew his face closer, planning to kiss the lips of the designer.

"What the hell, anyway!" Irwan's body thrust design. Putting on a fierce face but clearly visible when blushing. "I'm going back to the room. Mas continue to eat," said Reka flat, walking quickly left Irwan standing near the dining table.

"Go, I'll make sure tonight I can hug your body and your heart." Irwan muttered confidently.