Losing Us
Mist Necklace

Getting married shouldn't be this complicated if the person is Flora Calantha Orlin, the woman she loves and has her longed to be a chaperone until they get old. Marriage should be fun, fun to pass along with hands that hold each other. But since this was Anara, Arsenio never found anything other than a head that every day felt like it was about to break. There was trouble coming, and he often ended up at the end of the road with two opposite branches.

Olin or Anara. It used to be not hard to decide that Olin was first, and it always has to be. But now, Arsenio did not understand, why he found so many difficulties— which in the end even made Olin left out.

Many times over the past month, Arsenio realized she had put Olin aside for Anara. The reason is always because of Mother, but she herself is not sure whether the reason is valid or she is actually just making it up.

It may be true what Olin said. He had changed, little by little, without even knowing the cause.

“I want to go directly to the room, yes.”

“Serah.” Tired, that was all Arsenio finally gave in response.

The void hugged her so tightly when she set foot at home, and realized that Olin had kept her word to lift her foot if she was reckless to catch up with Anara.

“Why take me home if only to accept your indifference again?”

Arsenio looked quickly. Her reddened eyes looked at Anara with a blaze of anger that came out of nowhere. He knew the woman was innocent, he himself was reckless to follow despite knowing the risk was that he would face a great war with Olin. But then again, he felt he needed an outlet. He needed a container to spill out the anger that he himself did not know why it could flare so fiercely in his chest, making him nearly burn out in just a matter of seconds.

“Because of Mother.” Arsenio said in a low voice. Both of his hands were clenched beside the body, his jaws hardened without being held back. “No need to ask a question that you yourself already know the answer. That makes me sick.”

Anara who did not understand why Arsenio's attitude could change so quickly, plus his own mood that was also up and down not muddled for the past few days could only bite his lower lip to refrain from words that could cause a commotion. Again, he must be self-aware. He must understand that his position cannot move to a better place. That everything would go on like this; his marriage, his relationship with Arsenio, everything.

Without saying anything, Anara chose to leave. His tote bag he clutched tightly. It was a diversion attempt. He needs something to squeeze in order to dampen the tightness that comes back to torture. Coinciding with his steps touching the first rung of the stairs, his tears were knowingly sliding without excuse. He cried again, for reasons he did not understand.

While in the middle room, Arsenio stood stiff like a lifeless statue. His mind split into two. Between going to see Olin right now, or a little stalling to think about what reason he should use so that Olin does not get angry.

“Sialang. Why did this wedding even have to be there from the beginning?” so he should have asked himself. If he is not confident enough to keep his heart firm until the end, why should he accept this matchmaking just because he does not want to make Mother cry?

...🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀...

The stomach that was rumbling still could not make Anara wake up from the lying position. The sun was still shining outside even though the time had shown at 3pm. For hours after leaving Arsenio in the living room, he did not do much. Just be tolerant on the mattress while scrolling social media. Occasionally laughing at the funny memes he met in someone's upload, occasionally sniffling when he found a sad upload about the animals of the homeless, sometimes he will just daydream, sometimes he will just daydream, glued to the last upload he saw before his fingers again scrolled the screen.

“People can get married and be happy to meet their partners where, huh? It seems that many are married because they are betrothed, but they look happy and the marriage can be long lasting.” Chirps, random only when a post contains news about one of the famous celebrities who just held a luxury wedding.

Not long after, just a few seconds after his lips clenched back, he shook his head softly. “For what regret what has happened? Better buy some ice cream, anyway? Let adem?” his monologue.

Ice cream sounds good. The taste of vanilla, or chocolate, or the taste of watermelon can also. Any taste, origin could bring a cold sensation to his almost exploding head.

“OK,” finally, he got up too after a long time. Wallet stranded on the mattress he sambar, then he once spirit ran out of the room.

The innocent steps he had stepped on with a jolting step, now he was treading slowly. With regular steps, rhythmic heartbeat.

“Where to?”

Well. His sigh was deep in heart as the question rang out from behind his body. He turned his head, where Arsenio was standing at the end of the stairs with a flat face that had nothing good at all.

“Should I answer?” tanyakanya.

“Minimarket, want ice cream snacks.”

“At home aja.”

Suddenly, Anara shook her head violently. “I want to snack on ice cream, use my own money, you do not forbid.”

“At home aja.” Arsenio repeated it more emphatically, just as she reached in front of Anara. There was only a thin distance between the two so Anara had to look up extra in order to look up to Arsenio.

“Miss.” Anara nodded again. “Weather is hot, I want to eat ice cream.”

Arsenio did not reply, but from the look in her eyes, Anara knew the man's decision was still unchanged; she could not leave.

“I can do what? Dead?” ask Anara. Impressed to look for disease, but he just did not think of another question. Arsenio's attitude was too gray, too difficult for him to guess in order for him to anticipate. Temporarily well, intermittently cosplay leopard, intermittently incarnate dajjal drip. I don't know, I don't know anymore how Anara should respond.

“If you have the Courage, please aja.” Arsenio responded casually. As if death was nothing big to him. Moreover, if Anara were to die, someone she never expected to come into her life.

“Ka—“ Anara did not have time to continue what she wanted to say, because her stomach suddenly felt nauseous again. This time, for example, it feels more powerful, like being hacked by a death boy who likes to look for a commotion.

In the fog, Anara ran towards the bathroom near the kitchen. The phone and wallet he held tightly were thrown away until it landed hard enough on the dining table which was fortunately empty.

Clueless Arsenio could only be speechless watching everything. Then the sound of vomit coming from the bathroom made him shudder and intend to run away instead of having to find out what was going on with his wife.

“Ah, jerk.” He escaped because his angel side appeared suddenly, making a swing of his steps that were about to be brought back suddenly. He finally caught up with Anara, half in a panic when he found the woman already sitting limp on the bathroom floor with her head rolled weakly over the closed closet.

“Lo why?” asked Arsenio as she walked closer.

Anara did not answer. His eyes were still closed and he was trying to normalize his breathing.

Arsenio remained silent. He crouched down, then stretched out the back of his hand to check Anara's body temperature by sticking it on the woman's forehead. Not feverish. In fact, Anara's body felt cold.

“An, body lo cold bang.” His speech. Anara still does not answer. In his vision, the woman looked as if she were asleep.

To sleep? Waitaminute! Don't tell....

“An?” Arsenio shook Anara's body a bit loudly, but the woman only replied with a soft groaning sound that escaped from the side of her pale lips.

“An, lo why? Ah well, don't panic!” the stronger Arsenio shook Anara's body, then she was made to panic as the weak body collapsed into her embrace.

There is no such thing as thinking clearly anymore. Arsenio, just by relying on instinct, lifted up Anara's body, carrying her running around out of the bathroom.

“Don't die really, damn it! I'm just kidding!” the cry in front of Anara's face was increasingly paled. Then just like that, he had forgotten the vexation he still kept in his chest. Like a doormat he ran out of the house, haphazardly staving off a taxi without checking whether he had carried with him a purse in his pants pocket or not.

Panic does make someone stupid, but for now, the fool has reached a level where Arsenio is not even aware that her house has been left in a state of wide open doors.

Seriate