After all the laughter and splashing in the sand and sea, they finally retreated to a shady spot to change out of their damp clothes and eat the provisions Dewi had packed.
"What food did you bring?" Fitri asked bluntly.
"I brought water spinach, papeda, the same meat from the soup earlier but I didn't bring the broth because it would have spilled on the way.... some steamed rice, drinking water, and… I think that's everything," Dewi answered.
"I want the papeda," Fitri requested.
"Okaaay."
Once they had rested, eaten, and changed, it was time to head home. The clock showed 2:05 p.m. They couldn't take the same road back. they risked running into that bus again. So Dewi decided they would take a smaller route by Gojek, one of the biggest online motorcycle taxi services in Indonesia.
They had to order two drivers, one motorcycle simply couldn't carry three people at once.
On the road, Dewi rode facing backward, a habit she'd often practiced with her grandmother in the past.
"Are you sure you're okay, miss? I'm afraid you might fall!" the driver called out.
"It's fine, sir, no worries. Just take it easy," Dewi replied calmly.
Seeing that, Fitri wanted to try the same, but her driver immediately vetoed the idea.
"You better not, miss. You can tell you're not from the countryside....you'll fall," he explained.
Tch. But I really wanted to.
They made their way home. Along the journey, Dewi let out a wild "Arrrggggghhhhhh!" at every bend. She always did this whenever she came back from the Cilacap coast. Fitri merely smiled happily, and every now and then echoed Dewi's shouts with her own. The drivers didn't seem fazed; they'd seen countless passengers do the same thing, so it felt entirely normal to them now.
After an hour and a half, they finally arrived at the house.
"See you, sir… thank you for taking us all the way here…" Dewi said warmly.
"Yep, take care," the rider answered, turning his bike around and riding off.
—
Inside the bedroom, Fitri sidled up to Dewi and asked for the "ration" Dewi had promised on the bus.
"Soo, babe… where's my ration of kisses? My ration to lick your breasts, my ration to lick....."
Before she could finish, Dewi rushed over and covered her mouth, mortified.
"Ahhh, not that ration. That one's for when we're back, okay? Because this house has no soundproofing. Any sound from inside can be heard outside, the neighbors will know. You know how many homophobic people live in the village, right?" she explained.
Fitri's face fell. She asked again, "But just kissing is okay, right? Pleeease? And btw, what did you actually mean by 'ration,' babe?"
Not wanting her girlfriend to stay sad, Dewi answered, "Okay, okay. Just a kiss, alright? Fine. And the 'ration' I meant was your turn to cook for me. I want to taste your cooking. All this time we've been together, I've never once had a special meal made by my girlfriend."
Fitri froze for a moment, delighted about the kiss but suddenly flustered about the cooking. "I'm sorry, I can't cook at all. If I cook, it'll taste terrible."
"I don't mind at all. If it's your cooking, I'll eat every last bite, no matter how bad it is," Dewi declared with unwavering confidence.
"Really?" Fitri just wanted to be sure those words were true.
"Really," Dewi answered firmly.
—
Twenty minutes later, Fitri had managed to produce a fried egg and some fried rice. Dewi was thrilled to try them. The moment she took a bite, however, she was hit by a scorched, deeply unpleasant taste. She nearly gagged and had to bolt to the bathroom to throw up. It was a profoundly embarrassing moment for Dewi.
Fitri was crushed by her own cooking. She began to cry, sobbing like a baby refusing to sleep. Dewi, just emerging from the bathroom, immediately wrapped her arms around Fitri to soothe her. But instead of quieting down, the crying grew louder and more heart-wrenching. Without thinking, Dewi did the only thing her mind could conjure so she kissed her, sealing their lips together. She worked her mouth against Fitri's, swallowing the sobs, her tongue slipping inside, twirling slowly to still every tremor of Fitri's lips.
Fitri, tasting the sudden intimacy, responded with an even more ferocious kiss. Her hands began to wander, tracing the shape of Dewi's breasts through the thin fabric of her tank top, fingertips teasing the hardened peaks beneath. The air shifted, thickening into something deeply erotic and tenderly romantic. Desire ignited between them, bodies growing restless and hungry. Just as they pulled apart, breathless and on the verge of retreating to the bedroom, a sudden knock echoed at the door.
Sigh. Who on earth knocks at this hour?
Fitri muttered, deeply upset at the interruption.
Dewi quickly straightened her disheveled clothes and hair that mussed by Fitri's eager hands and went to the front door.
"Oh, hi Auntie, what brings you here so late?" Dewi asked the neighbor, who lived not far away, though not exactly next door.
"Nothing much. I heard crying from your place earlier. Thought you might be hungry, so I brought some food. It's only meatball soup, though…"
Before she could finish, Dewi interjected, "Auntie, you really didn't have to go to all this trouble." She felt genuinely awkward.
"It's no trouble at all. My kid doesn't like it anyway. Better than letting it go to waste. Besides, I just bought it this afternoon. just need to heat it up for a bit and it's ready to eat."
"Thank you, Auntie. Please, come in and have a snack," Dewi offered.
The neighbor shook her head. "No need. I have things to do. I only came because I heard the noise and thought maybe you'd come back from Jakarta. Turned out it was true, so I thought I'd check on you at the same time."
"Yes, Auntie. Anyway, thank you."
"You're welcome." The neighbor turned and walked away into the night.
Dewi stepped back inside and found Fitri already asleep on the bed. She heated up the meatball soup first. Once it was warm, she gently shook Fitri's shoulder. "Babe, wake up. Eat something before you sleep. I don't want your stomach to be empty tonight."
She rocked Fitri's body, but her girlfriend still wouldn't stir. "What are you made of? Why is it so hard to wake you up?and what the hell you sleep so fast like it's not even 5 minutes i'm talking to her" Dewi muttered, a little irritated.
Since Fitri remained stubbornly unconscious, Dewi ate the meatball soup herself, carefully setting aside half of it for Fitri the next day. She couldn't bear to finish it all. her love for Fitri was too deep, and the gesture left her heart feeling warm.
After finishing the soup, Dewi settled onto the front sofa to sleep, wanting Fitri to rest comfortably. The bed was small and short anyway; she worried Fitri wouldn't sleep well if they were cramped together. Before lying down on the sofa, Dewi quietly scraped the burnt fried rice and egg into the trash can.