Sense of Sense

Couple Baswara

Safira did not know whether Ashqar's invitation to chat in the television room was just a joke in order to be alone or indeed there was really something that her husband wanted to convey. Because since they left the bedroom, Ashqar immediately asked her to sit on the sofa while her husband was busy in the kitchen somehow making what.

Safira only hoped that his territory would not be destroyed or that he would spend the night cleaning up the mess that Ashqar did, of course, in addition to staying up late nursing Harsha.

“Mas want to chat what, anyway? It looks so serious,” Safira said, watching Ashqar's bronze from the television room sofa while putting the fourth piece of apple into the mouth.

“The app is still?”

Safira. “Changing talks. If Mas only wanted me to eat apples just mending me back to the room.”

“By Harsha was born, but your mood is still like a rollercoaster.” Ashqar carries a glass in each hand. As soon as Ashqar was in front of Sapphira, he extended a hand. “We look for ART, yes?”

Sapphira who had just raised her hand to greet the glass Ashqar thrust out was unable to hide her shock. His hands were still hanging in the air even as Ashqar was already sitting beside him.

“A .. RT?” said Safira stammered when he managed to escape from the shock.

“Iya. Tomorrow I ask Mbak Rama to find the man.” Ashqar held both glasses down on the table and returned to Safira's face still displaying the same expression.

“But why is this sudden?” Safira turned his head with a dramatic gesture, as if Ashqar had just given an arrest warrant against him. “Not that we have agreed not to use ART services until the age of Harsha two years?”

Since the seven months of Sapphira's pregnancy, they agreed not to use the services of a housekeeper. The reason was because Sapphira did not want her children to be held by others. If we keep expensive items and take care of them ourselves, why should more valuable children be handed over to others?

Sapphira's utterances did not give Ashqar a chance to argue, although in fact he himself felt that Sapphira's thinking was quite conservative. However, Ashqar did not want to be selfish by not giving Safira a chance.

“But now different, Fi.” Ashqar looked at Safira right in the bead of his eyes. “Right now I think I even bother taking care of the kids. Harsha is newborn while Alvin and Zain still have to get enough attention, besides you also seem overwhelmed with children and homework. If anyone helps at least home tasks already have someone to take care of and you can focus with children.”

“But ...”

“Not there but, Fi. I also heard the incident earlier this afternoon from Alvin.”

Safira's body bristles. “It ... Zain is just jealous of Harsha, Mas. Tomorrow I try to explain to Zain, he will definitely understand. So—”

“Honey,” cut Ashqar fast. He grabbed Safira's face and stared right at her bead. “Listen, I don't want to burden you with a lot of responsibility. This house is our home, everything is our duty. Please don't be stubborn, huh? I do not reject your desire to take care of your own children, but homework let others do.”

Although it was a bit heavy, Safira nodded. “But I alone are uncertain he can or does not work here.”

“Iya. Yes.” Ashqar carries Sapphira in his arms. His wife is a bit sensitive when it comes to homework. Let alone not clean, if the plate is not arranged according to the usual arrangement then Safira can be upset himself.

“By the way, I got a message from Mbak Nita.” Sapphira established herself. “He apologized for not being able to come next week at the aqiqah Harsha.”

“Oke.”

“That's doang?”

Ashqar. “So you want me how?” ashqar asked, bringing his face closer. “If you think I'm gonna ask you why, sorry. I can't make small talk to a woman who's not who I am anymore.”

The firmness in Ashqar's voice, the deep, cold voice, and the seriousness of his eyes made Sapphira's tongue faint. “Bu-not what it means, Mas.”

“I know,” the answer then further eliminates the distance.

Ashqar grabbed Sapphira's lips in his power. Although he knew that he had not touched Sapphira, but the temptation his wife gave made Ashqar's defense fall.

“Not a problem for no more than this,” thought.

When Ashqar made her drift in the cradle, Sapphira had her hands around her husband's neck. He let Ashqar play the role while himself would become a submissive cat by receiving all the gentle touches that began to plunder each of his upper body curves.

Then when Ashqar's fondling moved, Harsha's cry became a loud alarm that made both parents in a fog. Sapphira immediately pushed Ashqar's body and half ran towards the room, while the husband could only look down at the half-closed door.

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