Bebegigs
Chapter 28's

Dewangga and Magenta sat side by side at the martabak kiosk when Jingga came at eight passing by a little.

Orange waved at them across the crowded little stall and urged past the rows of children waiting for an empty table.

"I've been pesen martabak telor," said Dewa, while grinning at Orange opposite him.

Soon enough, their ordered egg martabak came, hot steaming on a round metal plate.

The orange, Magenta, and God instantly took out a few slices and put them on each plate.

That's when Magenta's brown eyes widened.

Orange realized the guy was staring at the front of the stall. He looked and followed Magenta's view.

While trying to find a way among the crowd at the entrance, Yasa waved at Jingga.

"Hei—it Yasa!" yelled Orange, then he gestured for the guy to join them.

"You know him?" the gods were surprised.

The orange turned to the god. "Yes" he answered. "He who nemenin I nyariin y'all yesterday malem," he said as he glanced at Magenta.

The man's gaze had not turned away from Yasa. His mouth was full of martabak. It was indeed Yasa, he thought in surprise. Kantata didn't lie about the change.

Yasa walked to their table and stood between the tables, his eyes looking at Orange, while everyone was staring at him.

Simultaneously, Kantata appeared behind Yasa, burst past him and left the boy out of his way, then joined the twins table and sat down beside Orange.

Orange groaned as he twirled his eyeballs, urging Kantata to get to the wall, then he quickly shifted while gesturing for Yasa to sit next to him.

The man's eyes twinkled with delight at the invitation of the Orange, and his warm smile expanded as he slipped himself sitting next to the girl.

"These are the ones I was looking for" Orange nodded towards the twins.

The two men were silent.

While Yasa only smiled faintly.

Kantata glanced at the two twin boys then glanced at Yasa and Orange through the corners of his eyes.

"Cicipin his martab," Orange offered him, pushing the tray towards Yasa.

"No. Thank you," said Yasa, while smiling warmly at Orange. "I ate it." His long curly hair was tightly tied back to form a bun.

He was really cute, thought Orange, unaware of everyone's view. Her smile was sweet, she praised in her heart. He took another piece of martabak and put it on his plate. "Wa, please take the pickle," he asked the Lord as he pointed to the pickle container near the man's plate.

"Yes," said the God rather angrily, clearly he was irritated to see the Orange looking at Yasa in awe.

Orange took the pickled container from the hand of God and would put it on the edge of his plate– - suddenly he was surprised, because Yasa caught his wrist.

"Sori," said the guy, then suddenly loosened his grip. "Superficial, orange, but I don't like vinegar. I think I'm allergic or something." Release of the hands of the orange. He looks embarrassed.

"Nothing" said Orange. He reached out past the God to place the pickled container at the end of the table. He looked at Yasa questioningly. "I've never heard of anyone allergic to vinegar."

The guy shrugged his shoulders. "I just don't know what it's called."

"I'm also allergic to vinegar" the god interjected, clutching her orange wrist for attention.

Everyone laughed except for Kantata. "It's hot here, yes" he said, fanning his hands.

he looked at the Gods and Magentas. "The two are spindled? I want to get out for the wind. Anyone want to come?"

The god nodded and quickly swallowed the last bite of his hammer. "Gue's coming!"

"Huh?" Magenta pretended not to know what he was talking about.

Yasa smiled faintly. Then turn to the orange. He held the girl's hand, squeezed it. "It's us to Curug, yuk!" his whisper as he lowered his mouth to the ear of the orange.

"May," said Orange excitedly, then looked at his friends to ask for approval.

"Two," Yasa added.

Orange immediately fell silent.

Magenta got up from his seat and glanced at their hands. A hint of annoyance flashed across his face.he stood up, combing his hair back with his fingers.

Yasa rubbed his orange arm and got closer.

Just knew one night, and he had already captured the attention of Orange, Magenta thought bitterly.

While Jingga and Yasa were still chatting about the waterfall, about the night market, about Dewa and Magenta, the two twin boys had already come out with Kantata.

"Lu's not feeling it, anyway? There was something strange about the Yasa," said Dewa, sneaking in the middle between Magenta and Kantata on their way to the night market.

"Yes, I feel something is burning but not cassava!" kantata without expression.

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Tonight is warm and sunny. The moon is low surrounded by stars that flicker to make the river look sparkling.

The surface of the land on the river shore is light brown, striped by moving blue shadows.

"Malem is a great race. Not like semalem," said Jingga.

While enjoying a warm night, people swarm the waterfalls in pairs, groups, pedestrians, motorcyclists, some children who have not slept, and many others, collecting stones under the bright moonlight.

The orange removed its sandals and pulled Yasa sitting on a flat rock by the river near the waterfall pool, then dipped his feet into the water.

Silvery-white ripples rolled over the purplish-green pond, then swept to the edge gently, rolling between the rocks, inundating the feet of the Orange.

"At the top there the atmosphere is calm" whispered Yasa as he pointed to the top of the waterfall, "It's just the two of us."

The orange followed his gaze and squinted his eyes. "How do we get up there?"

Yasa bowed towards Orange, "Fly," he whispered with a thin chuckle. His face was so close that his warm breath swept across the neck of the Orange.

The wind blew the girl's hair up and fluttered behind her.

Orange smelled his smile and bowed. Goosebumps due to the warmth of Yasa's breath tickling her neck. Reminds the girl of their first kiss. Passionate hot kiss. Unknowingly craving it again.

Yasa could feel the vibration of passion through the girl's slightly wheezing breath. He smiled silently, satisfied to see how things were going. His desire was suddenly unbearable. "Let's get out of here," he asked as he held his breath and squeezed his orange waist. "It's too rame here."

The orange agreed without hesitation.

Hugging the waist of the orange, he stepped on the path along with the girl.

Rhythmless and irregular night wind blows followed their steps.

Soon they were alone between two cold, dark mounds of rock, walking barefoot across the tall grass. Both held their breath and were impatient.