Baharuddin and Lasmini at last received Felzein with genuine warmth.
"Do have a seat, dear boy," Baharuddin offered courteously.
"Don't feel obliged to stand on ceremony. And thank you ever so much for helping Ocha," Lasmini added, her smile both kind and sincere.
Baharuddin turned to his daughter, "Ocha, be a dear and put the kettle on for our guest, will you?"
"Yes, Dad," Rosa replied, casting a brief glance at Felzein. "Won't be a moment, sir," she said softly, before making her way to the kitchen.
Felzein, still touched by a trace of unease, merely inclined his head in quiet acknowledgement.
With a warm smile, Lasmini excused herself, "I'll just pop into the back for a moment, dear. Give Ocha a hand."
Felzein responded with a polite nod as she moved gracefully towards the kitchen.
It seemed she was intent on preparing a small tray of refreshments, as a proper hostess might.
The living room now held only Baharuddin and Felzein, the air between them gently weighed down by an awkward stillness.
Neither man spoke at first, words seemed to linger just out of reach, suspended in the quiet.
Baharuddin gave a soft, deliberate cough, a subtle attempt to break the silence, and cast a fleeting glance at the young man before him.
Felzein sat composed, hands resting lightly on his knees, though within, a quiet unease stirred, the kind that comes not from discomfort, but from unfamiliarity.
From the kitchen drifted the muted clatter of crockery, the gentle chime of plates and glasses brushing against one another, signalling that Rosa and her mother were engaged in some quiet domestic flurry.
At length, Baharuddin spoke, his voice low and measured, "So then… whereabouts do you live, my boy?"
The question, though simple, caught Felzein slightly off guard.
"In the Koba district, sir," he answered, his tone polite but restrained, the awkwardness still faintly clinging to his words.
Baharuddin gave a thoughtful nod, "Ah, not far from the Koba Baru Pharmacy, then?"
"Yes, sir. Not too far at all," Felzein replied. "I often stop by there for medicine, the very pharmacy where Ocha works, in fact."
Baharuddin let out a quiet chuckle, his smile deepening with amusement, "You strike me as the shy sort, young man," he said gently, his tone light.
Felzein lowered his head a fraction, a faint flush rising to his cheeks, "Y-Yes, sir… I've never really visited anyone before," he admitted, his voice laced with quiet honesty.
Baharuddin's brows lifted, a flicker of surprise crossing his features, "Never? So you don't go out much then? Always cooped up at home, is that it?" he asked, half in jest, half in wonder.
Felzein shifted slightly, his hand reaching back to scratch the nape of his neck, a small gesture betraying his growing discomfort.
"Um… I mean… I've never been to a girl's house before, sir," he confessed, his voice dropping to a near-whisper.
At that, Baharuddin laughed, a fuller, heartier sound that filled the room, "Well now, that explains the nerves! Hahaha! Come now, no need to be so tense. Just take it easy, young man."
Felzein gave a modest nod, his gaze still lowered, "Y-Yes, sir," he murmured, his reply barely more than breath.
Meanwhile, in the kitchen, the low murmur of conversation from the sitting room drifted easily through the open doorway, each word between Baharuddin and Felzein reaching Rosa's ears with quiet clarity.
She allowed herself a small smile, delicate, unreadable. The kind that flickered only for a moment, as if it held a secret meant for no one else.
Lasmini, her mother, busied herself with arranging the tea tray, but her sharp eyes did not miss the subtle shift in her daughter's expression.
Ever attuned, she seized the moment with playful mischief.
"Ahem…" she cleared her throat deliberately, though softly.
Rosa started slightly and turned to her, "Yes, Mum?" she asked, attempting nonchalance.
Lasmini arched an eyebrow, a knowing glint in her eye, "He reminds me of you, Ocha," she said, lips curving into a teasing smile.
Rosa narrowed her gaze, uncertain, "What do you mean by that?"
Her mother chuckled, clearly enjoying herself, "First time visiting a girl's home, he said. And you... well, you've never exactly been close to a boy, have you?"
Rosa's lips parted, ready to defend herself, but before the words could take shape, Lasmini cut in again, voice low and suggestive.
"Which means… it might just be…"
She left the rest unsaid, letting the implication hang in the air like the scent of something sweet and just out of reach.
Rosa let out an exasperated breath, a faint flush rising to her cheeks, "Mum, please. That's quite enough," she said quickly, turning her attention to the teapot, though her hands moved with a touch too much purpose.
Lasmini laughed softly, delighting in her daughter's flustered state, "Oh, my darling girl…" she murmured, the teasing lilt still in her voice.
Rosa, cheeks now tinged with pink, remained resolutely focused on the tea, doing her best to ignore the warmth of her mother's mischief lingering in the room.
Quite suddenly, Lasmini spoke up, her tone laced with casual curiosity, "By the way... What's his name, that young man?"
Rosa froze mid-step, her eyes widening, "Oh, heavens… I completely forgot to ask," she murmured, bringing a hand to her forehead in dismay.
Lasmini stared at her, mouth slightly agape, "You what? But didn't you say he's a regular at the pharmacy, buys medicine there often? And you don't even know his name?"
Rosa let out a faint, exasperated sigh, "I don't even know what he looks like, Mum."
Lasmini blinked, "Come again?"
Rosa nodded solemnly, "It's true. I've known him for three years now, but I've never once seen his face. He's always wearing a mask."
Her mother gawked at her, then burst into quiet laughter, shaking her head in disbelief.
"Well, I'll be… I thought things like that only happened in novels or those strange romantic dramas you like."
She straightened up, brushing invisible crumbs from her apron, "Right then, let's not keep them waiting. The tea's ready, isn't it?"
"All set," Rosa replied with a small nod. "Let's bring it out, Mum."
The two women emerged from the kitchen. Rosa with steady hands carrying two steaming glasses of tea, one for her father, the other for their quietly awkward guest.
Lasmini followed behind, balancing a modest tray adorned with delicate cakes and little biscuits, the sort that hinted at both hospitality and affection.
"Here is your warm tea, young sir," Rosa said softly, extending the steaming glass towards Felzein with a gentle, reassuring smile.
"Thank you, Ocha," he replied, accepting it with careful hands, his voice steady but tinged with quiet gratitude.
Lasmini followed, offering the tray with a courteous nod, "And do help yourself to one of these small cakes, dear."
"Thank you kindly, ma'am," Felzein responded, a polite smile touching his lips.
Lasmini and Rosa took their seats beside Baharuddin, who, together with them, fixed their attentive gaze upon Felzein.
A flicker of discomfort passed over him, his thoughts quietly churning, "Good heavens… why are they all watching me so? What ought I do in this moment?"
Baharuddin, recognising the subtle unease of a younger man, sought to break the quiet tension.
"Come now, my boy, have a sip of your tea first. And do try one of those cakes," he urged gently, raising his own cup to his lips before selecting a small confectionery with practiced ease.
Baharuddin turned to Rosa with a gentle enquiry, "Rosa, this young man… what is his name? He's from the Koba district as well, isn't he?"
Rosa nodded, though a flicker of uncertainty passed through her, "Yes, Dad. From Koba," she replied, despite the quiet confusion within, for she did not truly know his name.
Summoning her courage, she asked directly, "Pardon me, sir… may I know your name?"
Baharuddin's brows lifted in surprise as he exchanged a brief, questioning glance with Lasmini, silently seeking some clarity.
Lasmini simply shook her head, indicating that she, too, was none the wiser.
Felzein started, caught off guard by the sudden inquiry. He realised he had neglected to introduce himself properly.
"Oh dear, I'm sorry, Ocha. Apologies, sir, ma'am," he said with a nervous smile. "My name is… Felzein."
"Ohh… Felzein," came the reply in unison from Baharuddin and Lasmini, their voices warm with recognition.
Meanwhile, Rosa's lips curved into a subtle, knowing smile, "So his name is Felzein… three years and only now I learn it. It's a rather distinguished name," she mused quietly.
Felzein gave a modest nod, "Yes, sir, ma'am. Hehe," he chuckled softly beneath the shadow of his black mask.
"Well then, come now, have some tea, young Felzein," Baharuddin urged kindly.
"Do take off your mask, dear," Lasmini added with a light, easy tone.
Felzein started, caught off guard, "Well... um... it's just that…" he faltered, searching for some semblance of an excuse.
"Why ever not, dear? You don't mean to sip your tea with your mask still on, do you?" Lasmini chided gently, a teasing sparkle dancing in her eyes.
Felzein's bewilderment grew heavier. If he were to remove the mask, then...
Rosa held her breath, her eyes fixed unwaveringly on his face.
"Let me see... Is he truly as I had imagined? Or does he bear some likeness to Melati's playful jibe?" Her heart fluttered with quiet anticipation.
With a measured sigh, Felzein slowly began to draw the mask down.
Piece by piece, his visage unveiled itself.
The firm, sculpted line of his jaw, the elegant slope of his nose, the delicate arch of his brows, curved like the bow of an archer, and the porcelain clarity of his skin, all emerged, quietly commanding the room's silent admiration.
Felzein finally lowered the mask entirely, and Rosa's eyes shot wide with astonishment.
"Masha Allah…" she murmured, her voice barely a whisper.
The face that had been concealed for so long now lay before them, clear and revealed.
A jawline strong and defined, a nose straight and flawless, and a pair of eyes sharp with an inherent serenity that seemed almost otherworldly.
His skin, fair and almost luminous, caught the light of the sitting room, revealing an almost ethereal perfection.
This was no mere handsomeness. There was a magnetic quality to his features, something far beyond the ordinary.
He was neither wholly like an Indonesian man nor entirely European.
His face carried a rare and intriguing uniqueness, an almost poetic blend of European, Arab, and Persian ancestry, fused together with an uncanny grace.
It was, without question, extraordinary.
Baharuddin and Lasmini sat utterly transfixed, their eyes widening in stunned disbelief.
For a brief moment, neither spoke, both rendered speechless by the sheer, spellbinding beauty of the young man before them.
They turned to one another, as though needing silent confirmation that this vision was real, a shiver of awe passing between them.
And Rosa?
She was rooted to the spot, as if time itself had paused around her.
Her limbs had forgotten how to move, her breath caught somewhere between her lungs and her lips.
Her heart pounded wildly within her chest, and her thoughts dissolved into an empty hush.
Her gaze clung helplessly to his face, so impossibly handsome, so quietly radiant, that to look away felt like sacrilege.
She nearly forgot to breathe.
Three years behind the counter of the pharmacy, attending to an endless stream of customers and never once had she encountered a presence as arresting as this.
"I knew it," she murmured in her heart. "I knew there was something about him..."
But never, not even in her wildest imaginings, had she pictured beauty quite so exquisite.