Wound Bidder

Air

After Dilla calmed down, Indra asked permission to go to the kitchen to get a glass of water. Now they are still in the house of Mak Era, after a long debate between the child and the mother. Indra chose to give up and decided to stay at the mother's house, because also the woman he loved so much would live alone in the house if he chose to live in his apartment.

When Indra returned to the room, he found the girl in black hooded bergo was daydreaming. Even Indra's presence was not realized.

The tall man reprimanded him while handing him the glass of water he was carrying. Dilla accepted, took one gulp and put the glass on the nightstand.

"Do you often have nightmares like this?" While sitting on the side of the bed, Indra asked.

The woman who looked not okay looked at him. "Almost every night like that." When Indra returned his gaze, he turned his gaze toward another object, the wall of the room.

"Trauma what you've been through so far to be a nightmare in your sleep, you?"

Dilla did not reply, a few seconds of silence struck, until a sigh was heard from Indra.

"What's wrong, if you don't want to tell a story! What you experienced in the past, a minute what it was! Don't make yourself stay there! Don't let that fear lock yourself up! You have to get out of that fear!"

A sweet smile and a gentle look, Indra tried to convince the girl. Highlight his eyes now turned on the clock working on the nightstand, already showing at three in the morning.

Beautiful-faced man took the initiative to invite the wife to pray tahajud congregation. Dilla agreed, after Indra passed to the bathroom. A thin smile was drawn on her tiny lips while staring at the wide back of Indra, who looked solid.

The dawn azan sounded beautiful echoing towards the morning. The fragrance of dew mingled with the cold air. A figure dressed in white cocoa, plaid motif sarongs, peci and a dark blue prayer mat draped on the shoulder walked firmly towards the Mosque near his residence.

On the other side of the road he met Mr. Rudi. He greeted the kindly old figure, walking hand in hand. When he returned to Indra's house directly to the kitchen after his cocoa shirt and holster he replaced with a gray T-shirt and long training pants in matching color. His lustrous black hair was still slightly wet the rest of the ablution water. The effect is always amazing in the morning.

The sweet man opened the refrigerator, thinking for a moment what food would be made with the existing ingredients. One chicken that has been cut, carrots, tomatoes, tofu, onions, several types of vegetables, celery leaves, leeks, potatoes, and so forth.

With no amount of cooking skills, Indra decided to make chicken soup like a handsome man who smiled brightly in the morning. Indra checks magicom first before starting her cooking show. Turns out it was just a few grains of rice left over last night. Finally he cooked the rice and after that the apron was attached to the body and the knife in the hand.

Cuisine is already on the dining table, Indra rubbed the temple as he exhaled. He went to the room to wake Dilla, who had since returned from the mosque, fallen asleep on the prayer mat. When accidentally the mucena cloth used by the woman was revealed. Indra noticed a scar on his arm and asked about it.

"It's nothing, brother!" reply the girl slowly.

The onion stinking man just sighed hearing that. He told Dilla to have breakfast downstairs.

Knowing Indra who cooks and he even sleeps, of course, the woman feels bad. While looking at Indra he muttered sorry, the onion smelling man just raised an eyebrow not understanding.

"Quick breakfast!" before moving. Carrying curiosity about the scar on the girl's arm.