The Volanthis River flows gently beneath the silvery moonlight, its surface shimmering like a sea of stars reflected in liquid glass. Nearby, the campfire has dwindled to a faint, flickering glow, casting an ethereal light that dances around them, while the tranquil silence of the night wraps snugly around Fitran and Rinoa like a comforting blanket. They sit side by side, encapsulated in a sacred moment, far removed from the chaos of the outside world, as time seems to stand still.
Rinoa gazes at Fitran, her heart heavy with unspoken words. She feels an intimacy with him that tugs at her very soul, yet a vast chasm yawned between them—one that words or tender embraces cannot bridge. The love she nurtures for him runs deep, like the currents of the river, but it always seems to fall short of uniting them completely. Like a river born to flow onward, she yearns to pause, to lose herself in this moment and anchor her heart beside his.
Deep within her, she recognizes the truth: her feelings may never be fully reciprocated, yet the burning desire to remain by Fitran's side is irresistible, even if it relegates her to the role of his shadow.
"What do we really want, Fitran?" Rinoa finally spoke, her voice soft yet brimming with significance. Her words hung in the cool night air like delicate wisps of fog, gradually settling around them, thickening with unspoken longing.
Fitran turned to her, confusion etched upon his features, yet a warmth flickered in his eyes that offered a glimmer of connection. "We just want to feel alive, Rinoa," he replied, his voice infused with an undercurrent of unexpressed doubt.
Rinoa managed a faint smile, even as her heart felt as if it were crumbling inside her. "But you never truly want to let yourself live, do you?" she inquired, her penetrating gaze striving to delve into the hidden recesses of Fitran's heart.
Fitran fell silent, as if Rinoa's words had unearthed the shadows of his deepest fears that he had long worked to conceal. "I... I'm afraid," he admitted slowly, each syllable heavy with vulnerability. "Afraid of loss, afraid that if I truly live, I will destroy everything I love."
As Rinoa took a deep breath, a tumultuous storm of hope and despair surged within her. "You have already destroyed so much, Fitran," she said, her voice trembling yet resolute. "In fact, perhaps you've unknowingly destroyed yourself. But I'm here. I want to stay here," she declared, the conviction in her tone cutting through the thick air that surrounded them.
With that, Rinoa closed the distance between them, stepping closer into the whirlpool of their unspoken emotions. Her hand rose with a delicate grace, her gaze holding Fitran captive—a gaze brimming with hope, laden with the emotions that words often failed to convey. With gentle resolve, she drew Fitran's face towards her, and without a moment's hesitation, her lips brushed against his.
The kiss transcended mere physical connection; it was a profound expression of the emotions that had long lain dormant, a silent echo of the sacrifices she quietly bore in her heart. Sincerity enveloped the kiss, imbued with an unspoken pain, like a soft whisper in the deafening silence of their realities. It felt as if she were searching for something lost—something forever out of reach, yet fiercely yearned for with every fiber of her being.
Fitran was momentarily taken aback, his body stiffening as if awakening from a long-held slumber. But slowly, he began to respond, returning the kiss with a gentleness that mirrored the tempest of his thoughts. Yet within him, an immense weight settled heavily, an insistent truth gnawing at the edges of his soul. He yearned to voice the thoughts swirling in his mind, yet the words remained lodged in his throat, trapped by the reality that Rinoa, despite the depth of her love for him, would never attain the fulfillment she sought.
When they finally pulled away, Rinoa gazed at Fitran, her eyes reflecting a bittersweet blend of happiness and sorrow, as if the night sky itself mirrored her tumultuous emotions. "You will never be able to love me as I love you, will you?" she murmured, her voice barely rising above the soft rustle of the leaves, each word a fragile whisper laden with unspoken hope.
Fitran lowered his head, his brow furrowing in thought, eyes fluttering closed as if he could shut out the weight of their reality. "I wish I could, Rinoa," he replied, his voice a heavy murmur steeped in regret, "But I... I cannot give you what you need. I am not the person you deserve." His admission hung in the air like a spectral presence, palpable yet elusive.
Rinoa managed a faint smile, though it trembled on her lips, carrying the weight of a thousand unshed tears beneath its veneer. "I know," she replied softly, her voice steadying with newfound resolve, "I understand that our love will never be perfect. It will never be balanced. But that doesn't change the fact that I love you." The sincerity in her words wrapped around them like a comforting shroud, even as her heart ached for something more.
Within the sanctuary of her heart, a silent monologue flowed, despite her lips falling quiet. The night enveloped them in its hushed tranquility, illuminated only by the fading glow of the moonlight, casting a silver sheen over her features. In that stillness, she grasped a profound truth—this love would never bloom in the way she yearned for. Yet, even as acceptance washed over her, she could not extinguish the fierce flame of her feelings. She longed to remain by Fitran's side, even within the confines of their bittersweet reality. For sometimes, loving means embracing the truth that not all dreams can unfurl as we envisioned.
In a silent embrace, Rinoa understood something profound—although her feelings would never be wholly returned, she resolved to keep that love ignited, willing to endure any sacrifices that came her way. For her, loving Fitran transcended the mere exchange of affections; it was about selflessly giving, even as her heart fractured slowly under the weight of unreciprocated love.
With a tremor in her voice, Rinoa broke the quiet, "How many women... have I been to you, Fitran?" Her eyes glimmered with a mix of curiosity and underlying anxiety, each word laced with vulnerability.
Fitran furrowed his brow, confusion knitting his features as he questioned, "What do you mean?"
"The women you've kissed..." Rinoa whispered, her voice shaking like a fragile leaf caught in a turbulent wind, revealing the deep ache twining through her heart.
In response, Fitran's tone turned candid as he replied, "Rinoa, you are the 201st person I've kissed." He reached out, attempting to stroke her hair soothingly, as if to dissolve the tension encasing them like a thick fog.
But Rinoa's emotions surged forth uncontrollably, and she angrily tugged at Fitran's hair, her own tears nearly spilling over the brink of despair. "Are you being honest or lying to me?" she challenged, her voice thick with defiance, a storm brewing in her eyes.
"Is this how you play with the seriousness of my love for you?" she demanded, her anger flaring, her cheeks ablaze as if a fire ignited within, casting shadows of her tumultuous feelings.
"It's true!" Fitran exclaimed, desperation creeping into his voice as he fought to maintain his composure while his heart raced with mounting anxiety.
But then he added, his voice softening, "But you are already engaged to someone." The weight of that truth hung heavy in the air, hinting at an unspoken pain nestled within his heart.
"That frustrates me too," Fitran added, his tone heavy with regret, as if the weight of his unspoken thoughts was visibly resting upon his shoulders.
Rinoa finally loosened her grip, her anger momentarily dissipating like mist in the morning sun as she absorbed Fitran's heartfelt confession.
"Regarding the engagement, I have sent a cancellation letter," Rinoa declared with unwavering conviction, her eyes locking onto his, their intensity igniting an unflinching connection between them.
"Maybe she's reading it now," she added, her voice a bittersweet melody, imbued with a mixture of hope and sadness that lingered in the air like a fading echo.
"That's good. Now we're even," Fitran replied, a wave of relief washing over him as if an immense weight had been lifted, reshaping the contours of his expression.
"Even in what way?" Rinoa inquired, a furrow forming on her brow as confusion clouded her thoughts, the tension between them thickening like storm clouds before a downpour.
"This isn't over yet," Rinoa pressed on, her voice gaining power, revealing a deep dissatisfaction simmering just beneath the surface, ready to erupt.
"You haven't explained anything about that," Rinoa pressed on, her tone rising with urgency, creating palpable tension between them, as if an invisible force was tightening around their conversation.
"Eh!" a sudden interruption broke in, piercing the charged atmosphere.
"Can you name her one by one?" he inquired, his face morphing with curiosity and a hint of challenge, as if daring her to reveal more.
"Maybe I can forgive you," she confessed, a glimmer of hope flickering in her eyes like the faint light of dawn breaking through a cloudy sky.
"Really?" Fitran responded, his voice tinged with surprise and a spark of anticipation igniting within him.
"Promise?" he asked, seeking the reassurance of Rinoa's sincerity, his heart racing at the prospect of redemption.
"I promise!" Rinoa declared confidently, her eyes shimmering with resolve, as if they held a treasure trove of hope waiting to be unleashed.
"Alright," Fitran said, a small smile slowly spreading across his lips, the tension easing slightly like a warming sun dispelling the chill of a long night.
"But please don't be mad, okay?" he added, a note of anxiety creeping into his words, his voice barely above a whisper, as if afraid to shatter the fragile moment.
"I'm not mad!" Rinoa stated firmly, her voice resolute despite the turmoil simmering within her.
"Hurry up!" Rinoa urged, her tone laced with frustration, the weight of the moment pressing heavily upon her.
"The names flowed from Fitran's lips, one by one, like an unending stream of glistening water cascading over smooth stones. Among the lengthy list were Ani, Ambar, Ainun, Siska, Icha, and Mila, each name rich with its own tapestry of history and vibrant tales. Then came Asti, Nanda, Fitri, Siti, Putri, and Melinda, followed by Surti, Amanda, Mia, Gita, Risa, and Rina, each name stirring echoes of laughter and warmth within their hearts.
Next were Elida, Elis, Marina, Mega, Sari, Rosa, Farida, Isti, Ida, Dewanti, and Ema; each name seemed to evoke certain cherished memories—splashes of joy and whispers of the past in their minds. Fitran continued, mentioning Fira, Dewi, Marisa, Beti, Riska, Santi, Yeyeh, Yani, Niwayan, Yati, and Yuliane, weaving a rich fabric of characters that had colored their lives.
He did not pause, seamlessly listing Sinta, Mutia, Firda, Fahira, Tuti, Mei, Lia, Lani, Lina, Heni, and Heti, progressing to Husnul, Rani, Ratih, Fikha, Erna, Eki, Ana, Widya, Jannah, Angelina, Angie, Tia, Tita, Titian, Tina, Titian, Tari, Tasya, Thalita, Tamara, Vina, Vindya, Viola, Vira, Yasmin, Yuli, Yulianti, and looping back again to Mutia. Among his names were Bulan, Bintang, Mentari, Muti, Masayu, Mirah, Molek, Mirana, Mulia, Murai, and Mutiara, each a sparkling star in the vast canvas of night, painting an exquisite night sky.
While Amanda reappeared, followed by Nilam, Mawar, Melawati, Nilamcahya, Muliawati, Anggun, Nurmala, Anggrek, Permata, Berlian, Ayu, Nirmala, Ranti, Rayu, Ratu, Raya, Rena, Kasih, Katsuri, Intan, Jelita, Jingga, Gadis, Kejora, Kemala, Kemuning, Komalasari, Kenari, Pipit, Kenanga, Lea, Lela, Lala, Lulu, Nani, Neneng, Lintang, Madah, Mayang, Bening, Belia, Seruni, Serunai, Nayla, Rindu, Ria, Waiduri, Zaskia, Zee, Yunita, Winda, Winny, Uut, Tika, Tirka, Septriasa, Saraswati, Sherina, Soraya, Santika, Saphira, Ririn, Rianti, Revalina, Rizma, Regina, Ramadhani, Nikita, Novi, Kirana, Kirani, Juwita, Kusumanintyas, Hafizah, Giska, Felisha, Fera, Hayuningdyah, Eva, Febiola, Dinda, Diana, Bella, Yana, Chikita, Claudya, Denita, Dea, Debbi, Dhini, Dara, Dharwanthy, Damai, Dahlia, Bunga, Caca, Desvyani, Nurdiana, Hastari, Herlina, Ikke, Jessica, Kiki, Magdalena, Maharani, Lupita, Lucy, and Naomi."
Rinoa was stunned, her eyes wide open as if the very words spoken had woven an unbreakable silence around her. In that moment, the thought of speaking eluded her completely, leaving her speechless.
"How?" asked Fitran, his voice trembling with a blend of hope and concern, as if he were afraid of shattering the delicate atmosphere.
"Are you angry with me?" Fitran pressed on, doubt clouding his tone like a dark storm threatening to unleash its fury.
"I thought we each had our past, but hearing this fills me with a confusing mixture of fury and breathless disbelief," Rinoa replied, her emotions tangled like vines in a thick forest.
"Fitran! Are you still in contact with them?" Rinoa pressed on, her gaze sharp and piercing, challenging him to reveal the answers buried deep within.
Fitran fell silent, his lips pressed tightly together, as if the very words he struggled to express were entrapped within him, held back by an invisible force.
"Unfortunately, no longer," Fitran said slowly, his voice heavy with sorrow, each word weighed down like a stone sinking to the bottom of a still lake.
"Why?" Rinoa asked, her face a canvas painted with deep confusion, shadows of frustration flickering across her features.
"You abandoned them," Rinoa declared, her tone sharp and unyielding, cutting through the tension like a knife through soft butter.
"You're not a real man," Rinoa added, her heart trembling as emotion pulsed through her, raw and unrestrained.
"That's not true!" Fitran retorted, his voice tinged with dissatisfaction and a pressure that seemed to push against the walls of his chest.
"It's just...," Fitran continued, his voice slipping into the silence like a gentle breeze, carrying the weight of unspoken feelings.
"Just by remembering them, they would surely be happy," he mused, his gaze drifting upward toward the expansive blue sky. It was as if the fragments of memories sparkled above him, each one a bright star in the vast emptiness, illuminating the path he longed to revisit.
Rinoa glanced upward, trying to imagine the tumult of thoughts racing through Fitran's mind. Above her, the sky was like an expansive canvas, where she envisioned the faces of the 200 souls, their expressions vividly etched against the azure backdrop, as if those lost spirits were peering down at her with eyes full of hope. Fitran's gaze toward the heavens was a mirror of his longing to escape, and with every heartbeat, he seemed to resurrect the cherished memories that weighed heavily on his heart.
"So...?" Rinoa's voice rang out, piercing through the silence, filled with anticipation for his next words.
Fitran nodded slowly, his eyes clouded and distant, drifting like leaves caught in a gentle breeze.
"They are no longer here," he uttered, his voice hoarse and strained, as if the admission had lifted a great burden from his chest.
"Fitran!" Rinoa exclaimed, her tone a mix of deep love and concern, laced with a hint of desperation.
"Did you see them when they were gone?" she inquired, uncertainty flickering across her features like shadows in the fading light.
"Yes," Fitran replied succinctly, his eyes now a well of sorrow, reflecting a profound ache.
"This is your reason for keeping your distance from me," Rinoa posited, gazing at him with tear-filled eyes, her heart eager to absorb every syllable he spoke.
"It's a mix of yes and no," Fitran confessed, his voice trembling under the weight of his hesitation.
"I say yes, because perhaps this is a curse placed upon me for always being entangled in the dark side," he explained bitterly, each word dripping with regret.
"No! Because I can't endure even a single day without seeing you. You've never noticed me when I watched you," she interjected, her gaze steady, revealing a deep and wrenching honesty.
"Fitran!" Rinoa shouted, her voice rising, brimming with emotion, resonating like a symphony of her unspoken feelings.
Buagh ...!
A powerful blow struck Fitran's abdomen, leaving him momentarily stunned, gasping for breath as pain radiated through his core.
"That's what you get for never greeting me," Rinoa said, her voice cutting through the tension like a knife, sharp and emphatic.
"I know how you've been following me," she continued, her expression a mix of fear and burning curiosity, eyes wide and searching.
"It makes me a little scared," Rinoa added, lowering her head as if to shield herself from the weight of Fitran's intense gaze.
"I'm sorry," Fitran said softly, his tone gentle as he attempted to ease the palpable tension that filled the air around them.
"I'm happy now; I can feel it with the man I love," Rinoa declared, her smile blossoming like the warm morning sun breaking through the dawn.
"Rinoa!" Fitran called, his voice rich and warm, reaching deep into the hidden corners of her heart.
Fitran reached for Rinoa's waist, his hand gliding slowly along the supple contours of her slender figure. His eyes locked onto hers, radiating sincerity that made Rinoa's cheeks flush with a delightful awkwardness. Her heart raced, and she found herself stealing glances away, only to lift her gaze back to his, a dance of shyness accompanying each enchanting move he made.
Fitran's gentle fingers caressed Rinoa's cheek, sending shivers down her spine. Overcome by the tenderness of the moment, Rinoa leaned in, pressing her soft cheek against Fitran's sturdy arm, relishing each delicate touch. As his fingers wove through her hair, parting it gracefully to reveal her ear, he leaned closer, whispering sweet nothings into it. Each word sent ripples of warmth and emotion cascading through her, enveloping her heart in a cocoon of intimacy.
"I love you," Fitran whispered, his voice resonating deep within her soul, wrapping around her like a gentle embrace.
As they locked eyes, a silent conversation unfolded, their gazes weaving a tapestry of emotions understood by no one else. Rinoa's smile sparkled with the promise of the long-awaited moment, radiating warmth and assurance. Slowly, Fitran leaned in, his lips brushing softly against Rinoa's, a tender connection that felt both exhilarating and sweet. He applied a delicate pressure, savoring each moment, ensuring Rinoa was enveloped in the thrill of discovery without being overwhelmed.
Fitran continued, running his tongue over his lips, a teasing fulfillment of lingering moisture, each movement infused with passion. The seconds stretched like an electric current between them, igniting anticipation within Rinoa, who felt herself vibrate with delight. As the sweet thrill coursed through her, she found herself lost in a whirlwind of sensation, her mind entranced by Fitran's every caress. With remarkable finesse, Fitran balanced just the right amount of roughness and tenderness with each kiss, adjusting the pressure and rhythm as if orchestrating a symphony honed by experience.
The curves of Rinoa's body responded to him, writhing playfully, a clear signal to Fitran that she was ready to embark on a deeper adventure together. In harmonious unison, they tilted their heads, seeking a position that promised even greater intimacy.
Mmmhh ...!
A warm kiss enveloped them both, like a fire igniting amid the cold of midnight. As their lips met, Fitran exhaled deeply, releasing the oxygen from his body while inhaling the sweet, intoxicating breath that Rinoa exhaled, creating a bond that grew ever stronger between them.
Mmmhh ...!
"Fitran!"
Smooch ...!
Mmmhh ...!
"Fitran!"
Rinoa's voice trembled, penetrating deep into the marrow of Fitran, as if breaking the silence and filling his soul with vibrant energy. He embraced her tighter, unwilling to let this fleeting moment slip away into obscurity. Fitran was not one to share easily; the beauty before him was far too precious, and he held a fierce determination to protect their intimacy. Cursed be anyone who dared to take Rinoa from him.
Mmmhh ...!
As their kiss deepened, Rinoa's warmth pooled in her mouth, and her saliva flowed increasingly, amplifying the shared intimacy between them. Her mouth opened wide, signaling that the moment they had both longed for had finally arrived. With a burning passion ignited within him, Fitran seized the opportunity. In her enticing naivety, Rinoa granted him full access; their tongues met, sending delightful shivers coursing along the length of Rinoa's tongue.
Rinoa responded eagerly, deftly trapping Fitran's tongue beneath hers, a playful challenge that ignited their connection further. Not to be outdone, Fitran began to sweep across the entirety of Rinoa's tongue, creating a symphony of warmth and flavor that mingled between them. Their exchange resembled a dance, breaking the silence with profound intimacy in a rhythm that seemed to resonate with their hearts.
"Rinoa!"
As Fitran transitioned to the middle of Rinoa's tongue, a rush of electric sensation surged through her body, intensifying the heat that enveloped them. Overwhelmed and unable to withstand the tidal wave of emotion any longer, he skillfully pulled away from the kiss, granting them a tender pause amid the fervor of their connection.
Rinoa, breathless and flushed, appeared utterly spent, yet her lips remained slightly parted, thirsting for the return of that intimate embrace. Fitran leaned in once more, kissing her deeply, his lips exploring every facet of Rinoa's tongue as if trying to discover the depths of her beauty hidden within. Minutes slipped away like grains of sand, each second amplifying the intensity of their shared moment before Fitran finally withdrew, marking a poignant breath in their passionate exchange.
"Fitran! I love you," Rinoa breathed, her voice laced with yearning, filled with an aching longing.
"I love you too," Fitran responded, sincerity spilling from his words, each one a testament to the depth of his feelings.
"Fitran!," Rinoa whispered softly, tears shimmering in her eyes, cascading down her cheeks, a reflection of joy entwined with unspoken desires.
In the purity of her emotions, Rinoa radiated a breathtaking beauty that transformed the moment into something timeless, an indelible memory etched in their hearts.
With a surge of emotion, Fitran passionately reclaimed Rinoa's delicate lips, pouring out all the anguish that had shackled his soul for far too long. He was releasing the torment that had gnawed relentlessly at his heart. As he hesitated, the seal that had connected their kisses for what felt like an eternity slowly lifted, allowing a breath of fresh air between them. Yet, a flicker of fear coursed through him, making him reluctant to meet Rinoa's hopeful gaze. Did he truly love her? If that was the case, what was he supposed to do? Would he hurt her or make her happy? Could he destroy her or protect her? Was he even willing to sacrifice everything for the woman standing before him? Rinoa was unlike any of the two hundred women he had kissed; her innocence and sincerity captured his heart and bound him in a way he never thought possible. Leaving her side felt unbearable, especially knowing how many had exploited that very innocence. The thought of anyone causing her pain ignited a ferocious protectiveness in him; just the mere notion drove him into a rage, compelling him to consider harming those who might threaten her.
Fitran pressed his lips against Rinoa's with an urgent fervor, a tidal wave of emotion surging with every heartbeat. The intensity of their kiss escalated with each second, so much so that Rinoa struggled to catch her breath. In the fervency of that passionate embrace, he inadvertently caused Rinoa's delicate lips to bleed. Upon realizing what had happened, an icy shock coursed through Fitran, and he pulled back abruptly, concern etched across his features.
"Fitran!" Rinoa exclaimed, her voice a trembling whisper that resonated with worry.
"Are you going to end this?" she asked, searching Fitran's gaze with a flicker of hope, her eyes glistening in the dim light.
Responding to her unspoken longing, Fitran pressed his lips to hers once more, this time with a newfound tenderness. He adjusted his movements, carefully attuning to the contours of her lips, mindful not to aggravate the bleeding, their breaths gradually synchronizing. His soft lips, reminiscent of ripe fruits, moved in harmony with her own, evoking an intimate rhythm that reverberated in the spaces between them.
"You will always be my first, Rinoa ..."