The Light of Love for Seroja
CCUS 21: Fakhour

After Randy's departure, Seroja chose to soak in the bath-up. The fragrant aroma of soap scented therapy, making the atmosphere of rileks instantly enveloped his body. He played soap foam inside there while occasionally rubbing his body gently.

Randy's words about an undisclosed wife, successfully made Seroja's mind look far again, precisely in the first moments he was met with Randy. The first time she dated Randy, she did feel that he was a lot different than most guys out there. There was no initial impression that came to Seroja's mind, other than the man was full of gentleness.

One month on a date with Randy, Seroja feels more comfortable with the man. How uncomfortable if every meeting with Randy, he always felt a warmth and affection from a man he had never found. The man seemed to know that Seroja previously had a trauma. There's nothing Randy can do but slow down, trying to re-establish the woman's trauma. And Randy also managed to prove that he was a different man.

Two months passed. For the first time, Randy invites Seroja to spend the night in his apartment. And, for the first time they do what is called body connection. Despite working under the auspices of Laura's mother, Randy is the only man who manages to touch her body, after the savage man snatches the sanctity he has. Until the sixth month of their relationship, Randy really tied her up with a bond that most people say is marriage under the hand.

Seroja inhales air deeply and he exhales violently. In his eyes, whether tied by a wedding rope or not, he is still a pela*cur who works by giving satisfaction to the man who touched his body. And from the point of view of most people, it's all dirty ways. But here, for Seroja a little different because he only relates to one man.

Seroja comes out from inside the bath-up and stands under the shower. He rinsed his body filled with soap foam to clean again. Whether her position is to be an undisclosed wife or a mistress, she is still a woman who has ruined the happiness of other women. There was no title he deserved, other than the title of man-captor.

He grabbed a white bathrobe that hung on the bathroom door. He put on the bathrobe to wrap his body and he swung his footsteps to get out of the bathroom.

He put his body on the edge of the bed. He grabbed the phone lying on the nightstand. His fingers rolled over the phone screen and again, the profile photo belonging to Rosmala was the one who again disturbed his inner peace.

"What should I do now? I'm aware of my position. But why does it feel so hard to let go of Randy's mas?"

Seroja is busy monologuing. He put his body on the bed still staring fixed profile photo belonging to Rosmala. However, the longer his eyes felt heavier as a result of being wracked by overwhelming drowsiness. The phone fell down accompanied by a dream cradle that began to greet him.

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Jakarta....

The chants of love were heard singing in the room of a twenty-seven-year-old young man. After the eleven rakaats were completed, he chose to make out with his Rabb. Struggling on the prayer mat, bowing his head in reverence, caressing every grain of prayerful prayer with a praise to the perfect Maha, then he covered it with a mattress that he had chanted in the last third of the night.

The window of the room deliberately opened wide to make the breaths of love from the gripper of life through the early morning breeze today into the room and no trace left but the traces coolness in the room.

Sadaqallahul....

Allah is the Truth with His Word. The young man who was none other than the son of Rama Gilang Pradana and Ellana Alessia Safaraz Ismail closed the Qur'an in his hand after a juz he managed to chant. He kissed the love of the owner of the life while making the ink, may he remain faithful in clinging to this book, until the end of his breath.

Chief Fakhru looked up. He looks fixed expanse of the night sky of the city of Jogja filled with natural pearls that appear to be flashing there. That sweet smile was back on her lips

"Son, don't daydream. Later can be teased by something invisible."

Fakhru's body was a little surprised when the baritone sound from behind his body suddenly seeped into his sense of hearing. He linked his eyes towards the figure of the middle-aged man walking over to him.

"Papa?!"

The middle-aged man stood by the son's side while carving a smile on his lips. He also stared at the vast expanse of the sky presented overhead while glorifying the beauty of the universe created by God, the God who rules over the entire universe.

"What does a bride and groom do in the evening like this? Does your son feel nervous, because tomorrow he will say the word qabul in the presence of guardians and witnesses?"

Fakhru chuckled softly at the words of the father. Because basically, what this middle-aged man said was indeed true. He was attacked by nervousness because tomorrow, he was going to have a wedding.

"If I'm to be honest, it's not the nervousness that currently dominates Fakhru's heart, Pa. But Fakhru was afraid. Afraid if..... "

"Stttt... Son, stop. Do not remember anything that has passed. Rest assured, this is the best time that God has chosen to unite you with your companion."

Fakhru nodded faintly. The events that had happened in the past seemed to make him feel an endless speck of fear. But he always believed that every ink of fate that had been scratched for him was the best thing God had chosen for him.

"Fakhru can only continue to ask God, hopefully tomorrow the event that has been arranged neatly can run smoothly Pa."

Rama nodded. "Aamiin, aamiin yes rabbal alamiin."

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