
“Abang,” call Sanja when now Shakir is right in front of him. He saw Shakir breathing through hunting, as if Shakir had just run from a considerable distance.
Sanja does not know, if Shakir's breath hunting not because he ran out. But because his heart was beating erratically.
For a moment, the gazes of the two locked onto each other. There was no word, only the gaze of that gaze spoke.
Mendamba gaze.
The gaze that Sanja had never felt so far from the man from the neighboring country.
“Sanja,” call Shakir wirily, but still heard clearly by the young midwife.
Sanja just fell silent, suddenly his tongue was a bit faint when he got a deep look like this.
All Sanja could do was one, waiting for what Shakir would say next.
“Sanja, will you marry me?”
Shakir asked directly, to make both Sanja's netra pattern, even his legs to reflect back one step.
Sanja, I'm really surprised. Not expecting those kramat words to come out of Shakir's mouth.
Swallowing her saliva with difficulty, Sanja finally opened her voice. Don't want to just be quiet like a stupid woman.
“Is Brother's heart healed?” reply Sanja, although it sounds clear the sound of his voice that hesitates when saying the question.
Small, Shakir smiled, then took one step forward to get back closer to Sanja.
Eroding distance, not wanting to be far.
“Do you still see my heart being hurt?” ask Shakir anyway.
With his shady smile, he looked more and more deeply into Sanja's two neutrals. Saying words of love through the eyes is Shakir's choice.
Let Sanja see for herself the contents of her heart through this gaze.
And as hypnotized, the love that Shakir tried to say it was as if it reached Sanja's heart.
Suddenly embarrassed, Sanja looked down a little. Then move his right hand to tuck some hair behind the ear.
Sanja, blush.
As she looked down, Sanja saw Shakir holding out a ring box to her.
Secretly loving Shakir all this time, and suddenly the miracle came. Not only an expression of love that he heard, but directly a marriage invitation.
Again, Sanja looked up and looked back.
“Sanja, will you marry me?” shakir asked once more, holding out the red velvet box. Complete with a beautiful ring inside.
They are both adults, do not need to say a lot of love as proof.
And direct action is the real proof that love exists.
“Bang, aren't you kidding?” sanja asked, she even squeezed her hands together which felt cold.
Again, Shakir did not answer the question directly. Shakir wants Sanja to trust his sincere feelings, without him saying that.
Slowly, Shakir moved his body, went down and gathered in front of Sanja.
Like a proposal that Sanja had seen on television.
Sanja's mouth was gaping, but he quickly closed using both hands.
“Bang, don't be like this,” said Sanja anyway, he even shook his head. Not to be treated like a princess or a special girl.
She was just a country girl who knew nothing, other than about medicine and serving many people.
“Sanja, I never joke. I want to marry you sincerely. We want to spend our old days together. I just want to do that with you, not with anyone else, I beg Sanja, Please accept my proposal,” pinta Shakir earnestly, please, until he managed to make a drop of clear water out of these two beautiful girls.
“Don't cry,” pinta Shakir anyway, he even instantly got back up and wiped the tears on Sanja's face.
“How much do you not want to accept my proposal, to the point of crying like this?” shakir asked again, he continued to wipe the tears, by stroking the darling of Sanja's face that looked reddish.
“Don't cry, but I force you to marry me.” Shakir finally broke up, without waiting for Sanja's answer, Shakir immediately put the ring he carried on the ring finger of Sanja's right hand.
The ring is so fitting, as if the soul mate is already in line between the two.
Even without permission, Shakir pulled both of the girl's shoulders, hugged her tightly and hid Sanja's crying face inside her deck.
A hug is slowly reciprocated by Sanja.
Shakir smiled, then kissed Sanja's head in love.
“I love you, Sanja.”