Sensational Husband
Eight
Azlan. There was nothing he could say. As for the face of Mecca, Azlan never knew. But she believed that Mekka was a good girl as her mother always said. Hijab, polite, said softly and came from a good family. Regarding the face, Mother never told what the physical appearance of his future wife. Whether beautiful, mediocre or like a saw that here stands out.
“Yes already, you must be driving the motor again, the sound of the wind is very tight, astonishment until here. We'll talk about this problem again. Assalamu’alaikum.”
“Wa’alaikumsalam.”
Azlan's forehead suddenly wrinkled staring at a row of cars in front that crawled slowly until finally stopped completely. This is a routine that becomes a daily sight, stuck. If on the left right there is a horn sound many times, but not on the Azlan motor. He did not press the horn even though now he had to rush. He was still able to calm down, and indeed only Azlan's face looked calm among the other riders.
Patience is one of the keys to success. Patience in all things. And Azlan was sure of that.
Jakarta, became the foundation of life for an Azlan, who brought him able to send money to his family as a reward field, to fund the lives of Mother and three younger sisters who are each still in school. One of them is Sasha, the youngest who requires a large cost for the recovery process from cancer. Every month his family in the village will be happy to receive the rupiah sent. Because for Azlan, his life is only for charity, to be able to see his family happy, especially to see the smile of the mother.
Forty minutes of time it takes to travel a distance of only fifteen kilo meters.
Azlan now arrives at an elite cafe, where he will meet with a company leader he does not yet know. He half ran into the glass door, the blue map he was holding.
“Iya, sorry, sir. I'll be in a minute.” Azlan tilted his head to be able to clamp the phone with his shoulder.
Azlan gasped in shock as he collided with a girl who had appeared from the side. The collision process was strong enough to make his phone slammed and fell to the floor. The map also goes to the floor. Looks like the girl is going to walk towards the cashier table.
“Yes Allah!” lirih Azlan looked at her chest shirt that had been spilled with chocolate ice cream. Cold crept on his chest skin, and he tried to resist the coldness that spread. The shirt is really dirty. Somehow the fate of his meeting later.
“Sori!” the girl with back hair stared at Azlan's shirt and the ice cream in her hand alternately.
Azlan quickly turned his eyes away when he saw the unusual sight before him. That girl, really sexy. Her beautiful body like a fashion model is only wrapped in minimal fabric to show the parts of the body that should not be shown. Just two straps on the shoulders to expose the skin that could make the men suddenly fever. Skirts above the knees add a sexy impression. Not only this time Azlan saw the same appearance. He knows, this is in Jakarta, a metropolitan city whose daily life is filled with terndi girls and contemporary looks. Maybe for them it was natural, but as much as possible Azlan avoided the scenery in order to maintain the view.
“Let me clean up!” The girl took out a tissue from her handbag and cleaned up the remaining ice cream stuck to Azlan's shirt.
The position of the girl who was slightly approaching made Azlan again see the delicate skin in front of his eyes.
Astarghfirullah's.
TB