Tear Flower
Chapter 24's
The smell of carnation flowers is so stinging that it resuscitates itself if things are not okay. Ayana took her eyes off Zidan's smile.
The smile was the same as when we first met. Ayana falls in love at first sight and falls too deep into the abyss of pain.
Shadows a few years back sprung up draining cold sweat. Betrayal, Nestapa's lie, and the death of the child become a crushing blow.
Ayana avoided Zidan's gaze trying to make nothing happen. He swept a view examining every corner of the room.
"So, can we start? What should I draw?" ayanna asked to shift the subject.
"I'm sorry, Ayana."
Those words again were spewed from the charming cleft of Zidan's lips. Ayana looked up to see regret stored neatly in the look of her eyes.
He snorted violently and then put the luggage down below. He folded his hands in front of his chest smiling meaningfully at Zidan.
"What were you really talking about? Why are you apologizing while looking at me?" tanya Ayana.
Zidan was flabbergasted, his hazelnuts widened perfectly and then scratched the base of his clumsy neck. "You're Ayana, right? Ayana, why do you have to pretend to be someone else?" He continued to cling to the position that this woman before him was Ayana, the wasted wife.
"What is Mister talking about? I do not understand ... I am Ghazella Arsyad, Ayana? Who is Ayana?" ayana is acting formally.
Realizing the awkwardness occurred in the interlocutor, Zidan rubbed his huffed face. "I'm sorry .. I'm just thinking about my late wife. She ... really looks like you. He also has a hobby of painting."
Ayana nodded her head while grinning widely. "Em, okay. Then I'll start painting." Without heeding what Zidan was thinking, he sat on a wooden chair not far from the existence of the piano.
Ayana placed the canvas on the wooden backrest and opened all her painting equipment. Zidan was flabbergasted when he accidentally saw the incision scar on Ayana's left wrist.
Noticing the silence greeting, Ayana looked up to see if the man before her was watching her closely. He followed Zidan's point of view and hurriedly confirmed the slightly exposed shirt part of the sleeve.
"W-what really happened?"
Zidan started again, Ayana panted and sighed harshly. "Master, am I here just to hear your babble or paint? If my existence as a interlocutor .. then I will go. Because there are still many paintings that I will finish."
Highlighting his stern eyes and looking at him, Zidan was flabbergasted and realized that his attitude had offended Ayana. He is not a professional in his work who has called the painter to immortalize himself.
"Ah, I'm sorry. Then can we start?" pinta Zidan's.
"Already from now on," Ayana replied seeing the man who had broken her heart acting clumsy.
...***...
Raksi carnations back melted together accompany every second mebersamai hours both people there. Exquisite line by line on canvas.
Ayana was so serious about her job drawing the pianist. In silence Zidan continued to pay attention to him, hoping and continuing to hope all that was not a dream.
In the mind whispered softly if he believes the woman who is now close to him is Ayana. The wife he had hurt and betrayed repeatedly.
The regret is increasingly open to cause details after clear details on the cheeks, he said. Zidan cried while chanting soft tones decorate togetherness.
Ayana was flabbergasted, her movements halted with a brush floating in the air. He stared at the painting legged unconsciously already drawing the figure of Zidan is very beautiful.
"I certainly don't think clearly, how can ... I put love on top of his head? I have to remove it immediately, "Ayanas mind is monologuing.
Without Zidan noticing, Ayana found out that the man had been watching her since then. The corner of his rancid lips lifted perfectly watching the clear granules glide across the cheeks.
"What does that song mean to you, sir?" ayana asked as she took the colored paint under her feet.
Zidan was flabbergasted and hurriedly wiped his rough tears. "Ah, em .. Yes this song means a lot."
Ayana nodded briefly then busied herself with her activities again. The welcome silence made the indoor atmosphere so cold.
There is no spoken word just scratch after brush stroke on the canvas. A tingle in the chest looms forming memories that have already been passed.
Zidan focused more and more on Ayana by sitting right facing the painter. No matter how strange, or uncomfortable he just wanted to keep looking at the woman.
As minutes passed, Ayana finally finished the painting. He moved from sitting while wiping both hands on the aprons he wore to avoid splashing color paint.
His smile made him wake up from sitting down. His Netra looked towards Zidan who was still looking at him fixedly.
"Do you need anything? Is there something on my face? Why did you notice me?" ask Ayana streak.
Zidan is still strong in his stance. His round head looked up at the deep dark bead of Ayana. Without realizing it, the perfectly curved crescent moon made the woman link both eyebrows, astonished.
"Master?" call again.
"Wanna? You're really Ayana, aren't you?"
Zidan had lost his mind, he got up from sitting and walked quickly to Ayana. Without warning he gripped the painter's hands to make the owner pushed back.
The narrow back slammed against the wall producing a thumping sound. His head looked up at the pianist. Ayana looked at Nyalang Zidan who gave a warm look.
Out of nowhere, the burly right hand was raised rubbing the reddish cheeks of Ayana. The woman was flabbergasted and stiffened when something inside the interlocutor got up.
Zidan considered her to be a wife who had once been wasted. Secretly Ayana grinned to see how devastated the man who had once called husband was.
"Aiana." Call Zidan lirih.
Ayana clucked her throat and slapped Zidan's cheek strongly until the handsome face turned its head quickly. He folded his hands in front of his chest while looking for a brown iris in front of him.
"I warned you repeatedly. I am not Ayana .. I am Ghazella Arsyad. Youunderstand? This is the last warning, if you still think of me as Ayana .. This will be our first and last meeting."
"Good bye."
Ayana left without waiting for Zidan's answer. He immediately grabbed all his painting equipment until he accidentally nudged a vase containing several stalks of carnations.
The loud sound of the shattered ceramics also resuscitated Zidan. Without heeding the mess she made, Ayana continued to step foot until the sound of her heels was no longer heard.
Zidan turned his head to the left side where the closed door removed Ayana's figure. He watched the fallen ceramics make carnations lay helpless.
The water in it has gone everywhere. A few flower stalks show his life at this time.
"That's what my heart is like now, Ayana. Even though you've changed, but .. you're still the wife I've hurt over and over again," Zidan said in a poignant smile.