Part 1 - The Magic of Love

Do you believe in the magic of love?

Believe it or not, come here. I'll tell you one secret.

Not really about me, but she. Girls in navy clothes who come and go in the rain. Maybe you don't know or, maybe you know, but don't believe it. When the sky drops clear and cold grains, she is among you.

She couldn't help but raise his hand in the rain. Smiling happily while occasionally closing his eyes. Maybe because of the cold rain, the shine of the grains, plus the wind that blows, making your eyes not see it.

On one side of the wet road, she stood shouldering his navy backpack. She's the book-crazy girl who doesn't believe in miracles. She always carries an umbrella. It's not that he doesn't like rain. Quite the opposite. She often waits for him. That's Elsa.

The rain tapped the girl on the prayer room terrace. On his side, next to the highway. She watched the gray sky while biting her lip. His fingers tapped his feet. On both cheeks, the rain left a trail. Tiny grains that are barely visible. His right hand was holding his aching left arm—as if not together.

"Elsa..." one of the children with an umbrella with a cartoon cat motif called her.

Elsa smiled. While still holding his left arm. In a moment, she was released. To freely wave to the child with a cartoon cat umbrella calling her.

 "Elsa isn't home yet?" one of the other children approached her on the terrace of the mosque.

 "Not yet, honey. Why aren't you home yet?"

 "Want to pray first."

She smiled. Occasionally check the streets. Like lovers in the rain, then waiting for someone to pick up with an umbrella. However, wait a minute. Is she waiting for a lover? Or another?

She even checked the book in his navy backpack. His eyes were fixed on making sure the page was safe. Not wet from the rain. Not damaged due to distance folded.

She didn't have time. In an hour, she had something to say. There is no season waiting for the city to be ready. The city must always be ready. No one can curse the rain, just because of time. Especially if it's just a grumble.

If only she hadn't had that book and something in his backpack, maybe she'd make his way through the rain. She waited there for more than an hour, the rain never let up. The petrichor scent she had been waiting for, had yet to appear perfect.

The girl opened her backpack again. Looking for a pen and writing down secrets in his book. Sparks of fireworks shot out of it.

With the light raindrops falling from the sky, his forehead frowned. She checked the phone again.

 "Where have you been?" A message was sent again.

However, up to five minutes, there was no reply. The woman who took out fireworks from her pen still made a patient smile line. Again, she sent a message.

"Are you still on your way? Is it raining hard over there? You brought a raincoat, right?" The message started to change. Yes. Worry began to fill his eyes.

The little boy who had greeted her came out of the prayer room. "Elsa isn't home yet?" "Not yet, honey. Still waiting for an invite."

"Oh, I see. I'll go first, Miss. I'm worried about waiting for Mrs. Nana. Assalamualaikum, Elsa..." He wore purple sandals. Immediately ran through the rain in his cheerfulness.

Is worry just a futile attempt to guess an unforeseen destiny? However, take a look. The book-mad woman who put out fireworks sparks in her pen kept smiling. His hand reached out slowly to receive the clear grains from the night sky. Closing eyes. Lull was anxious and worried in his eyes.

A message box came in on his cell phone.

"Sorry, I seem to be late. You're still there right?"

Without making the sender of the message wait, the woman immediately replied.

"It's okay. Yes, I'm still here. Be careful, okay. Don't speed." A smile returned to his lips which were getting colder.

The woman returned to continue what she wrote on the book page. Sparks of fireworks came out of his pen. She always liked those little cute pops. Strange, indeed. Why did this woman like small things that even others would consider a waste? Oh, wait a minute. What is the meaning of vain?

There is nothing in vain in his life dictionary. The ticking time on the book-patterned wristwatch pointed to ten minutes past nine. She had been waiting for an hour and a half. However, there was no sad, annoyed, or even angry expression on his face.

People say women's faces don't look like they're angry when they're angry. So, she has learned not to show anger from a young age on his face. She moved it in the pen. Into the pages of a book full of eyes and ears.

 "Are you still caught in the rain? Or are you already walking?" The woman again sent a message to someone who was waiting for.

 "I'll be there in a minute. Be patient, okay?"

 "Be patient?" Erm, let's say that the woman has not met the criteria for patience. As the rain began to return to the ground completely, the smell of petrichor permeated her beautifully. The woman's eyes closed. She let his nose smell the distinctive aroma.

"Beautiful... cool. I love the smell."

A blue motorcycle passed not far from the prayer room where the woman was waiting.

 "He? How come? Why aren't you here? Who is the woman he's riding with?"

 "Ah, I just saw it wrong the most." She closed the page of the book that contained something. Put it in a bag, and prepare to be picked up by someone.

 The woman is holding a piece of paper. Turns out, he had already taken it. Put it in a cute envelope. An envelope with a book and rain pattern. Rain and books.

 "Hope you like it." She whispered to the cute envelope.

 However, the person she had been waiting for did not appear before his eyes.

 "Are you okay? There's an obstacle on the road? Your motorcycle is stuck? Or... your clothes got wet in the rain?"

Surprisingly, there was no suspicious eye whatsoever on what he was waiting for. The woman continues to grow her love. Just hoping that the person she's going to give the paper in the cute envelope to is okay. No reply. However, time goes on. The numbers on his watch made it clearer to the darkness of the night. Ten past ten.

 "Oh my God, where exactly is he? He's all right, isn't he?" His eyes began to water, but she held back tears immediately.

 "Elsa isn't home? Just stop by the orphanage, let's go. Are you okay, Mom?" a little boy in purple sandals whined. Asked Mrs. Nana to give the roof of the orphanage to Elsa.

"Yes. Instead of going to the prayer room. It's getting late, worry. Come on, just stop by the orphanage. The kids will like it."

 "Thank you, ma'am. But I'm waiting for someone." The answer is friendly.

A person with that blue motorcycle suddenly came before his eyes.

"Well, he's here. Thank you in advance, ma'am. Sorry, if you have worried."

"Oh. It's okay. Thank God, if the one who picked you up has come. If anything goes wrong, just stop by the orphanage again, son. It's okay to stay here." The answer is friendly.