They drove home in her father’s car, Risa occasionally checking the stack of cake boxes in the back. Kala drove for her, a faint, amused smile tugging at his lips until Kala actually found himself blushing under her persistent gaze. After all, it had been over three months since they’d seen each other; it felt surreal to see him sitting right there beside her.
“So, is this a layover or actual leave? And why don't you look jetlagged? If anything, you look refreshed.”
Kala grinned. “I specifically requested leave for mid-December. Did you really think I’d spend Christmas staring at clouds in the cockpit while everyone else is celebrating?” he grumbled lightly as he drove. “I wanted to see you at least once before 2022 ended.”
Good lord, this man was unbelievable. Countless people would give anything to see what Kala saw from the cockpit, yet this senior first officer (SFO) acted like he was bored of seeing the same view every day. Risa hadn't understood the aviation hierarchy at first, but Kala had simplified it for her. When they met years ago, he was a second officer about to be promoted to first officer, eventually climbing the ranks to SFO.
The bars on a pilot's shoulders represent a long, grueling journey. It starts with one bar for cadets, then two for relief second officers. Now, Kala wore three bars, marking him as the captain’s right hand with full control over a massive Boeing jet. Kala’s goal was clear: he wanted the left seat as a captain. That would give him total authority over his own schedule. It was a matter of control—and Kala was born for it.
“So you’ve been in Jakarta for a while then, Mas? But you lied to me, claiming you were flying to Japan.” Risa narrowed her eyes as the realization hit her.
Kala smirked, clearly pleased with himself. “Just for a day, Liefje. Just to stretch my legs and back.”
Risa swatted his shoulder several times in a mix of annoyance and affection. “You’re unbelievable! I can't believe I fell for it.”
“You think you’re the only one who can play pranks? I have a few tricks, too,” Kala said, laughing to himself.
When they arrived home, Risa was even more surprised to find her mother had already prepared the guest room. Kala’s suitcases were already there; he was staying for three days. Risa couldn't stop laughing—it turned out the "guest" her mother had mentioned was Kala all along. As for the cakes, her mother intended to distribute them to relatives in the city. It was such a ridiculous, soap-opera-level scheme designed to lure Risa to the bakery just to bump into him.
The good news was that the guest room was right across from hers. Had her mother done that on purpose so Kala wouldn't want to go back to Amsterdam? The thought made her stomach twist in a mix of irritation and delight, but she wasn't about to complain—she loved it! For over three months, she’d only seen his face through laptop and phone screens. She considered herself strong for not begging him to hijack a plane and just fly to Indonesia.
***
Her mother and Lingga were busy in the kitchen while Risa was in her room with Kala. Levin and their father were discussing something serious in the front room—likely a deliberate move to give the couple a moment alone before dinner. After all, through October, November, and December, Kala had been nothing more than a moving image on a screen to her.
He pulled her into his arms the moment the door clicked shut. Risa knew nothing inappropriate would happen even if they were alone. One thing was certain: Kala always knew when to stop whenever things got too close to the edge. Usually, it was just a few kisses, whispered longings, and promises for the future. Risa missed him with every fiber of her being; she would have followed him anywhere, if only she could. Unfortunately, she couldn't afford to be too needy; it would only distract him from his work.
“Liefje, I’m sorry about the last three months,” he murmured, leaning down so Risa’s face was tucked into the crook of his neck.
She could feel him breathing against her hair. “It’s okay, Kala. I’ve been busy with my new books anyway,” she said, deliberately trying not to make him feel guilty.
“It’s not that I didn’t want to fly to Indonesia, but I couldn't.”
Kala tightened his hug, and Risa rested her chin on his shoulder. The 19-centimeter height difference between them felt like a vast expanse. She used to feel perfectly fine standing next to Ardo, even though his 180-centimeter frame was well above average for an Indonesian man. She never realized that those few extra centimeters could make that much difference.
With Ardo, she didn't have to tilt her head back until her neck ached. Standing with Ardo gave off that "perfect match" vibe in catalog photos—though thinking about it now felt strange. But while Ardo was tall, Kala was towering. Once a man hits 183 centimeters, or 6 feet, he crosses that threshold where he starts to have a "towering" presence.
“Your hair is long again,” Risa said, stroking his thick, soft hair. “Last time I felt it, it was a bit prickly. Won't you get in trouble for that?”
Kala chuckled, pulling her closer. “A little pomade will fix it. I’ve already groomed the sides; I was just too lazy to go to the barber.”
“How long is your leave?” Risa asked as they finally pulled apart.
Kala’s hair no longer had the sharp undercut from months ago. Without his usual pomade, his black bangs fell naturally, parting slightly in the middle of his forehead and nearly touching his eyebrows. It looked healthy and voluminous, making him look younger and far softer than when he was in his stiff uniform.
Kala reflexively ran his long fingers through his bangs, sweeping them back and revealing his broad forehead. A moment later, a few strands fell back into place, framing his striking eyes. Kala Dirk had asked her to "read me" when he confessed his love, hadn't he? Well, here Risa was, more than happy to "read" or love every single detail of him.
“Seven days, so I can take it easy with the travel. I’ll be in Jakarta for three,” he answered.
Risa smiled, fully aware of how meticulous Kala was. “Two days of travel, three days of vacation, and one day of total rest before duty? But you still have eleven days of leave left. Will they go to waste?”
Kala shook his head, a small smirk playing on his lips. “No, like I told you. I’m taking the rest of my 2022 leave at the start of next year for our Dublin trip so they don't go to waste. We'll have two weeks of vacation, but only three days will come from my 2023 quota. I don't mind missing home during the holidays, as long as I get to go to Ireland with you.”
“Are we really going to Dublin?” she asked, feigning innocence. She wrapped her arms around him and looked up at his face.
Kala leaned down, peppering her lips with kisses. "Starting to get cold feet about Ireland, hmm?" he teased.
"Of course I do," Risa said, cupping his jaw. "Don't flatter yourself."
 “Liefje… Liefje… you’re so tiny, yet you make me miss you so much.” Kala rubbed his nose against hers.
“You’re just too tall,” she grumbled playfully.