SOUND FOR DILARA
CHAPTER 67. ONE ROOM

"Because I'm with my wife and she's a woman, let your husband be a standby father, Dilara."

Already he no longer cared about the surrounding gaze, the macho man still sauntered with an old gray handbag, owned by Dilara.

As she enters the cabin, Ezra rushes to send a few messages to Rolex, Leon and Mita before her phone flies into fashion. I don't know what it is, only he and God know. (mommy doesn't know, haha)

Dilara nervous, this is the second time he rode an iron bird across space, breaking the distance between cities by lightning, like Gatotkaca, he thought.

Two hours later, Surabaya.

Ezra walked slowly down the row of food and beverage stands along the path out to the arrival gate. He offered if his wife wanted to stop there for a moment, but Dilara refused.

Just as he met Leon, his wife stepped apart from the two men, looking for a toilet. Emery's son-in-law is nauseated and dizzy. He rushes into one of the rooms, ignoring the calls of Ezra and Leon.

"Master, you can't come in. Ladies." Hold Leon when Ezra will barge in.

"My wife is inside, afraid she's why-why," Ezra forced in, dismissing the astonished gaze even the ban from cleaning the service of the woman on duty.

"So soon take the car, Leon," he said as he pushed open the door.

"Dear, Dila." Handsome guy with an old ash bag on his left hand, knocking slowly on the door of the booth inside the ladies' room.

"Dizziness" said Dila weakly as she opened the door.

Ayu's face paled, some clear feathers appeared on the forehead slowly descending soaked her cheeks.

The strong-bodied man was quick to pay Dilara, his two hands were ready to lift the weak body but Dila forbade. Until finally he just embraces the shoulder, out the toilet to the exit.

Emery's Mercedes-Benz C-class brings together the two men who will be the main stars at the residence of the founder of the Qavi Clan, in the next few days.

"Still dizzy?... Leon, P3K please," he asked Papa's secretary.

Ezra received a medicine box from the hand of his father's aspri. Shifting the sitting position to be spaced with Dila.

"Let the rearview inside." His orders to the driver so that when he opens the zipper behind his wife's robe, they don't see. Dilara refused as the fingers brushed her hijab to the left side, lowering the hook to run the medicine on her back.

"Don't" said Dila.

"Not seen, dear. You're out in cold sweat like this. I used to warm up the oil for a while, yeah," he forced it.

Wanting Dilara's heart to refuse, Ezra's face looked so serious that he could speak further, letting the man do as he pleased.

Thirty minutes of travel they had taken.

A metallic black four-wheeled vehicle began to enter the courtyard of El Qavi's mansion. Seen from a distance, Mita and Ruhama have been standing on the front porch welcoming the arrival of their princess.

"Dila, it's here. There is Mother ahead" whispered Ezra in Dila's ear because she chose to watch her eyes earlier. Emery's eldest son went down first, circling the back to open the left side door where Dila was going down.

Slowly, the round eyes of Ruhama's daughter opened. He finally set foot back into this luxurious house, but with a different situation.

He saw that Mother was waiting for him. Slowly, his left foot stepped on the earth, his arm had been slowly pulled by the husband.

"Dila," exclaimed Mother scattering to hug her beloved daughter.

Ezra pulled over, releasing a weak body as Ruhama ran towards him.

Grep.

"Ibuuuu ... Dila kangen." Ayu woman hugs Mother, although her stomach is stuck.

"My grandchildren? is it big, Nduk?" Ruhama took off a hug, rubbed his daughter's womb slowly.

"Mom, go in yuk. Dila jetlag, nausea vomiting was also dizzy, he was still looking pale," said Ezra when he saw their intimacy.

"Eh, yes, God, the mother later yes," replied the Mother who was enthusiastically embraced by her daughter.

Ermita canceled hugging her sister-in-law, because she saw her condition was tired. The girl chose to prepare a room that she would use.

"Where's Nak Ezra's room? Dila in the hall there aja yes, do not let the mother's room not be difficult to move later," Pinta Ruhama when starting to enter the living room.

"My room? di .. di-sana," said Ezra clumsy, he was not sure. Several times he looked at Dilara's face, but his wife did not turn to him, until they arrived at the door of Ezra's room.

Mita who heard the words of her sister-in-law's mother, just smiled knot. Then whispered to her sister when she opened the door handle of her room.

"Congratulations, finally one room" whispered the youngest brother. Mita then breezed away to call the father who was still in his room.

Meanwhile, Ezra was silent, confused. Stand in front of the wide open door.

"Eh, yes," answered Ezra.

Lousy.

What Ezra felt when he was asked to open socks, even remove the hijab and lower the zipper Dilara shirt.

Glekks.

"Hold Za, hold .. O Allah, smooth .. hold on you, hayy, down there...."

"Come on, ko bengong? open it," Mother urged him. The upper game forced Ezra to lower. Fragrance of apples is still attached to the half-plain body of his wife, making his desire for maleness increasingly strong present.

"Dear, sorry, I had to. Don't see, really." Ezra whispered in Dila's ear as she propped up the limp.

"Mom, I can," said Dila helplessly. His head was so dizzy that he opened his eyes reluctantly.

"A little more done."

Ruhama was so deft to change all the clothes attached to his daughter's body. Until in the next minute, the old hand has been rubbing oil all over the back as well as the nape of the child.

"Son Ezra, later if Dila is like this again. The one in this groove yes, also this .. his chest if you want to sleep at night should be warm." Ruhama gives usmejangan.

"Yes Ma'am."

The greatest torment, not to pass for another hour.

...*...

At exactly two, Dilara opened her eyes. He rose slowly from his position, lowering his feet to touch the cold granite floor.

"Where are you? I help you," asked Ezra from the side.

"Sholat" said Dila.

"Yuk, slow walk or do I want to carry?"

"Road," Dila can only gesture. His fingers hang in the air asking for help.

"Alhamdulillah, slow dear," Ezra sumringah, Dila began to think it existed.

The man with the status of husband Dilara just silently observed every move of his wife. Trying to interpret every attitude so he doesn't get it wrong.

After the prayer, Dila returned to lie down, pulling the blanket up to the chest. Ezra approached, sat down on the side of the bed and placed his palm on Dila's forehead.

"No fever."

"Cold," muttered Dila, half of her face covered in dangling hair. The man pushed the mane behind the ear, then grabbed the remote to bring down the temperature.

His hand rubbed Dila's back to keep her warm.

"Cold," the tiny lips began to faintly tremble. Ezra was confused as to how, wanting to hug but afraid his wife was angry. Between fear and fear.

"I hugged ya," finally the sentence he held, slid too.

Tik Tok Tik Tok Tok Tok Tok Tok Tok. There's no reply.

He climbed into the bed, revealing the blanket.

Ezra then pulled Dilara's head to rest on his arm, making it easier for him to freely close his body.

Pause.

Silent.

Only the roar of breath was heard from the owner of the body he was holding.

"Eh, are you pules again? hopefully next time it's like this, baby, not just when it hurts."

.

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