Why Different?

Is This The End?

Still on the same day, as if not wanting to spend time with Zahira just by fixing their cafe and residence later, Juan also brought Zahira to the showroom to buy a car. Although already accustomed to using online taxi and taxi services, Juan still felt he needed to save money so that his money could be used for other purposes.

If this is the old Juananda Saputra, whose job is only to come to the campus for an absence deposit then after that go hanging out with friends Pain Killer in Mega, he will not think to save money—which is not he who is looking for it. But since this is the new version of Juananda Saputra preparing to become the future head of the household, she has started to take things into account slowly.

“This one is okay, anyway, but later you can not use, height.” Said when a staff lead him and Zahira towards a unit of the latest Pajero Sport car output. His sturdy body is clearly Juan type once. But since he needed to make sure Zahira could also be comfortable using it, he would look for other alternatives.

“Why be me, huh? This is your car, you buy it, you also want to use.” Sahut Zahira, while Juan responded with a headband.

“There is a smaller body with specifications that are not too much different, Mas? My wife can wear it safely. If using Pajero afraid he did not nyampe to tread on the gas pedal.” Juan said later, making the male staff who accompanied them around since a few minutes ago stare a smile.

“There, sir, this way.” The staff led them to another car.

Zahira just tailed him in the back. His lips pouted a little because they still imagined the previous sentence Juan had indirectly said short. However, when she recalled that Juan also referred to her as a wife, Zahira's annoyance gradually subsided.

As long as the staff explained what features were in the car that he recommended, Zahira instead misfocused on Juan who looked serious about paying attention. In fact, he believes his girlfriend already knows more about the game. It is not an expert, but if for basic things such as the specifications of the car to be purchased, Zahira believes Juan has already done research. The man would not waste his money carelessly, especially if it was money he had earned with his own sweat.

It may seem ordinary in the eyes of others, but in Zahira's view, how Juan looked carefully at the staff's explanation was the form of appreciation the man gave. He appreciates the work of the staff who is in charge of explaining in detail, without intending to interrupt even though he actually already knows.

The length of the detailed explanation was filled with distinctive persuasive sentences brought Juan finally managed to make a choice. One unit Mitsubishi Xpander white he edited to be their prospective vehicle.

While Juan took care of the administration, Zahira chose to pull over. He sat alone in a chair that had been provided, chugging cold mineral water that was given free of charge by the showroom to customers who came to wet his dry throat. Strange too, when he only talked a little and almost all transactions handled by Juan, but instead he was thirsty.

As the minutes passed, Juan came over carrying a folder containing the purchase contract files. Without asking for permission, the man grabbed a bottle of mineral water Zahira used to drink and downed it to the toilet.

“If you drink while sitting.” Zahira reprimands, though it is too late because Juan has already finished his drink.

“Hehe, sorry, too thirsty.” The man's grin. Zahira only shook her head while passing a slow breath. This time, he will try to understand.

“You're done?” ask the woman later, getting up from the chair.

Juan nodded, then his bright smile rose as he thrust the map he held onto Zahira. “Nih, you save.” His word.

Zahira who did not know anything clearly looked confused. “Why did I save it?” tanyanya, but did not stop accepting the map.

“Soalnya the car in your name, I ask you to take it also to your home later.” Juan explained lightly, inversely proportional to Zahira's reaction which immediately glared in disbelief.

A thump then landed on Juan's shoulder, making the man stir. “Why was I hit?” tanyanya, do not accept already given physical violence.

“You ngawur.” Omel Zahira's. “Why on my behalf? That's your car, you bought.”

“Can't I make it on your behalf?”

“Clearly can't!” Zahira is getting fierce. Well, even in Juan's eyes it didn't look bad at all, anyway. It even looks funny and adorable. Ehe!

“Why can't you? Try here, tell me what's the reason?” challenge Juan. It looks like a hotshot with both hands on the waist. His face was also songong abis, like the son of an official who was challenging law enforcement officials by carrying around the position of a parent. “What, hmm?”

“First of all, that's your money, you have no obligation to spend them buying things that are not for you. Second, I'm not a matre girl, I can buy my own car if I want to. And last but not least, it’s just simply ‘what if we don’t end up together?’. I don't want any drama-drama asking behind this it's or whatever, a waste of time.”

If you think Juan would agree, it would be wrong. But, he also did not immediately ignite emotions until he had to respond to Zahira's explanation with excitement. Just relax. Chill, Baby.

“OK, now listen to me.” His word. Both of his hands were no longer at the waist, his song looks were also gone. “First of all, because this is my money, then I have the right to buy anything as long as it is not the things that harm myself. Second, sure, I know you’re not materialistic, but I bought this of my own volition, so you should not refuse. And last but not least, I can guarantee there will be no drama kayak that you are worried about, because I am not a typical who will ask back whatever I already love. If we are not friends, yes. The car is still for you because from the beginning of my intention to buy emang to make it easier for you to make it everywhere. Let’s make it easy, Baby. Do not think too much that is out of the context of our struggle to unite.”

“I don't want to hear you protest, so let's go home.” Without allowing Zahira to deny it again, Juan pulls his lover's arm. Clasping his hands tightly, leading him away from the showroom without knowing that behind them, the male staff who had accompanied him wholeheartedly could only shake their heads at the strange debate of the lovers.

Normally, people would argue about what cars to buy, on whose behalf the letters of the car would be made, and what the fate would be if they separated. But what he witnessed today was exactly the opposite. The female does not want to be given something for free, while the male is convinced that it is one small form of proof of love.

...🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁...

Zahira realizes that Juan has often surprised her with a variety of things. The move from home, the existence of a contemporary cafe that has escaped the radar, until the purchase of a unit of the car on his behalf. However, as if not enough with it all, even until they arrived home, Zahira was still shocked when Juan casually walked up to the second floor. Releasing his hand reached the middle room and did not reply when he asked where the man was going.

For then, Juan back in a dress that is no less surprising Zahira. White Koko clothes paired with bright brown pants. His hair was thin, there were water droplets left there and seemed to glitter in the light. Even more surprising, Abi tailed not too far behind. The outfit is ordinary, the outfit template that is usually worn to the mosque. Koko's clothes, sarongs, peci, and prayer mats are draped on the right shoulder.

What is unusual is, when Abi said, “Come, Ju.” Then walked ahead of Juan and the one who was invited just a short nod while smiling brightly.

“Where are you going?” ask Zahira.

“Masjid.” Juan replied with eyes that disappeared as his smile grew wider.

“Mosque? Why?”

“Nyuci rub.” The sarcasm, then he chuckled softly. “Emang if the person to the mosque is you why?”

“Salat.”

“Well, yes it is.” Juan said, flicking his finger.

However, Zahira still ngebug. Suddenly his brain performance was at its worst level.

“Hah?” muttered.

“Hah what, anyway? Udah, ah, I want to walk, azan hunt.” Not wanting to wait for the loading in Zahira's brain to finish, Juan rushed to escape after Abi Hamzah who had already walked up to the living room.

Until the minutes after Juan left, Zahira still has not managed to digest what really happened. Mosques are places to pray, but they are reserved for Muslims. Although Juan....

“Oh, geez!” know-how, he screamed furiously, making Umi Maryam who just emerged from the stairs suddenly stopped her steps while rubbing her stubborn chest because of her daughter's behavior.

“Why, Za? Ngagetin aja.” Umi Maryam continued her steps until she arrived next to her daughter.

Zahira turned her head, treating her mother a gaze that only she herself knew what it meant.

“Umi,” call it down.

“Iya, why?” Umi Maryam was so patient.

“Juan wants to go to the mosque, he said.” His sister, like a child who complained to his mother that his favorite toy had just been snatched by a friend.

“Iya, continue?”

“Mau salad, he said.”

Until there, Umi Maryam began to understand the confusion of her daughter. With a soft smile as silk, the woman touched her daughter's shoulders. “Iya. Today, Juan wants to start his first prayer as a Muslim.”

As if entering into a dreamland, Zahira did not know how to react. The feelings are mixed, and again that can represent the overflow of feelings is a melt of tears that come out slowly.

One barrier wall has been torn down, is it then a good signal for their relationship in the future?

Seriate