Residual Flavour
Let go of sadness

In the midst of the panic Deswita who thought Deva had run away from her house, the God with a mind that is certainly calmer walked closer to the bathroom of the mama who was tightly closed. He put his ear on the door. The gurgling sound of tap water sounded faintly in the ears of the Gods.

Slightly hesitating, the man pressed the doorknob down. Because it is not locked, the white rectangular board opens easily. How surprised God was to see Deva sitting face down hugging her knees on the cool ceramic bathroom under the rustling shower that was not fully turned on.

"Dev ...," cried God.

The woman who was called by his name did not wince. He seemed to be drowning in the daydreams too deep. Deswita was caught up with the gods in the bathroom. Seeing Deva's condition, the woman seemed to be reflecting on her condition a few years ago when she found out her husband was impregnating his own domestic assistant.

"Lift Deva, Nyil. He can get sick if left that way," Deswita ordered in a quite deafening voice. However, Deva remained unmoved.

Without a second thought, the god immediately raised Deva's body. It was only when her body seemed to float, that the woman returned to her consciousness.

"What do you want, Lord? Lower me. Father don't fuck around. Why you can go into the bathroom. Put me down." Deva beat the chest of the Deity field with all her might.

Being quite upset, the God lowered Deva near Deswita's dressing table with a slight bang. "Bas weird, look, my clothes are wet because of you. Look, mama! She's worried about you, Dev. If it wasn't for my mom, I'd be lazy to see you in the bathroom. If you want to take a bath, the clothes are opened, and please lock the door from the inside" the Lord snorted.

Realizing her stupidity, Deva's attitude softened a little. Especially there was Deswita, of course she felt great shame. That smooth white cheek instantly blushed an incredible red.

"It's okay, Dev. Now dry your body. Change your clothes immediately. After that we rest. Tomorrow we start another new day with more happiness and optimism." Deswita held out a kimono towel to Deva.

As fast as lightning Deva re-entered the bathroom. He continues to curse his stupid self, terror and does not control emotions to the maximum when in people's homes. He was ashamed to meet a god. Tomorrow, his superior will definitely be mocking him all-out.

Though it was just Deva's unreasonable fear. Gods couldn't possibly carry around the matter today all the way to the office. Although impressed by himself and good at reproaching, God still knows the limits.

"Well, are you still here, Nyil? that's where you changed your clothes. That shirt you're wearing is wet too. Later in the wind even bothers," reprimanded Deswita to the only son.

"Ma ... Deva how? If he is sad, it is better to meet the gods. Because if the same God, Deva will not be sad. Joking or laughing anyway no, at least he can vent emotions by cursing and venting resentment to God." The man said in a very slow voice.

"Already! Don't follow. While in this house, Deva's superior is a mother. Mama knew what to do. Go back to your room, or don't blame your mom for thinking you're having a big crush on Deva."

Not long after, Deva came out hesitantly from behind the bathroom door. When I knew the gods were no longer there. It really made him very relieved and increasingly rushed to take a change of clothes and then go back into the bathroom.

Deswita waited patiently for Deva. He tried to arrange the words, so that what was said could be soothing and give a little consolation to Deva. Deswita did not expect at all, her nephew would act so humiliating as before.

"Here, Dev." Deswita patted the side of the empty bed ledge as soon as she saw Deva coming out of the bathroom with a change of sleeping clothes.

"I'm sorry, Mades. I was too emotional. Supposedly, I didn't behave like this" Deva said, after she sat down next to Deswita exactly.

"It's okay, Dev. You should be sad and throw it away. Not arrested. The sorrow that is saved, will bind your soul into true pain. Don't let that happen. Sick souls, it is difficult to heal. It takes a lot of time, and a great determination to come out of a fainter heart. No one should forbid us to celebrate sadness, including ourselves. Pretending to be tough hurts a lot, Dev."

Deva and Deswita look at each other with Sendu. The long story of Mama Dewa, managed to make Deva want to cry again.

"Crying, Dev. If necessary, scream all you want. There's a mades' lap that will hold your tears. Don't force yourself to be strong. There are times when everything seems to happen beyond the limits of our abilities. Certainly not. The test of our lives has been rooted properly according to the portion of our ability. Sometimes we just have to stop for a moment. Enjoying the pain with a heart-wrenching hum of sorrow."

Slowly, Deva lays her head on Deswita's lap. Her tears suddenly slowly decayed without warning. She was crying without a sound. Deswita's outstretched hand stroked Deva's brownish straight hair.

"Scream, Dev. Don't be shy about getting your tightness done"

Deva shook his head weakly. He no longer needed one or many screams. The softness of Deswita that he now felt, filled an empty niche of his soul that longed for the caress of the mother.

Not only Deva whose heart is crumbling dim, Dave also feels the same way. After being tormented by a marriage preparation drama that requires him to go to some close relatives of the Dira family, now he must face a new chapter of a series of plans owned by the future wife.

"Dave, we're both in this room. Don't you want to touch me? Or just kiss my cheek? We're getting married, aren't we? I don't mind if you want to do it." Dira tries to seduce Dave by pulling the blanket that had covered his hips down.

Dave, who had been standing on his back to Dira's bed, certainly didn't see that. The man turned around, then smiled sinisterly at the sight before his eyes. "Before you want to be loved, try to love and accept yourself, Dir. If you think you can snare me this way, you're wrong. If only by looking at smooth thighs and female organs I can be tempted, I don't know how many women I will gauli. In a day, I can touch at least two women on my operating table. So don't be this cheap."