3 Want to Do That

This morning, the morning sunlight filtered through Leon's bedroom curtains, waking him from a restless sleep.

The previous night had felt like a sweet nightmare—Sonya's touch, her sighs, the scent of her skin still lingering in his memory.

But now, as Leon opened his eyes, worry crept in. "What if she tells Dad?" he muttered, sitting on the edge of the bed, rubbing his face with his hands.

His heart was pounding, imagining Gito's angry outburst: screams, accusations, perhaps even expulsion.

Leon was no longer a child, but his father had unshakeable authority in this house. With heavy steps, he went downstairs to the dining table, ready to face the storm.

The dining room was already alive with the aroma of coffee and toast. Gito sat at the head of the table, reading the morning paper while sipping his black coffee.

Sonya was in the kitchen, flipping omelettes with seemingly casual movements.

But when Leon entered, there was no explosion. Gito just glanced at him with a tired smile. "Good morning, son. Sit down, eat first before class. Dad has a long meeting today, might be home late." His voice was normal, as usual—no hint of suspicion or anger.

Leon breathed a sigh of relief, sitting down in his chair, his legs still trembling.

Sonya served breakfast: eggs, bread, and fresh fruit. But her attitude was different. Whereas before she had always smiled warmly, looking at Leon with attention, now her eyes avoided his.

When she handed him his plate, she didn't look him in the eye, just muttered softly, "This is for you, Leon." Her body seemed tense, like someone who was acting awkwardly—her cheeks were slightly flushed, and her movements were hurried, as if she wanted to get away quickly.

Leon noticed this, and a faint smile appeared on his lips. "She didn't tell me," he thought. "She's afraid that I'll accuse her of starting it. Good." That conviction made him more confident, even though there was a vague feeling of guilt in his chest.

Breakfast passed without incident. Gito left for the office, leaving a quick kiss on Sonya's cheek.

Leon rode his motorbike to campus, the morning breeze sweeping across his face, but his thoughts kept returning to the previous night.

On campus, the atmosphere was bustling as usual—students passed by in the corridors, the air filled with laughter and chatter.

Leon met Andra on a park bench between morning classes. Andra, with his messy hair and backpack full of rock band stickers, immediately greeted him. "Bro, how did it go yesterday? Did you try my idea? Insult your stepmother so she'll run away?"

Leon glanced around, making sure no one was listening, then nodded slowly. "I tried, Dra. In the middle of the night, I... teased her in my room. Kissed her, groped her a little. She threatened to tell Dad, but I said I'd accuse her of breaking into my room. She didn't say anything. But... she's still at home, bro. She hasn't run away yet."

Andra chuckled softly, patting Leon on the shoulder. "Haha, awesome! But be patient, bro. Girls like that don't run away right away. Maybe you need to 'attack' again. Apply pressure gradually. If she gets really angry, she'll definitely leave. Don't rush, but don't stop either."

Leon nodded, but his mind was already wandering. "Maybe so," he muttered. Class continued, but his concentration was gone—every note the lecturer made felt blurry, replaced by images of Sonya's body.

During lunch break in the campus canteen, the aroma of fried food and the chatter of students filled the room.

Leon sat with Andra and some friends, ordering chicken rice and iced tea. Suddenly, a girl approached—her name was Rina, a pretty student from the next class, with short hair and a flirtatious smile. She sat next to Leon, deliberately nudging his arm. "Hey, Leon. All alone? Want some company for lunch?" she said, winking, her hand gently touching Leon's arm, the sweet scent of her perfume wafting over him.

Usually, Leon might be interested—Rina was popular, had a slim figure, and seductive eyes.

But today, his mind was only on Sonya. The memory of the previous night's kiss, the warmth of her body, the small sigh that escaped her lips—all of that made him unable to move. "Don't bother, Rin. I'm busy," he replied coldly, his eyes staring out the window.

Rina frowned, but finally left in a huff.

Andra nudged him. "Bro, you rejected Rina? Crazy, she's been chasing you."

Leon just shook his head. "Not in the mood," he lied. In his heart, he knew: Sonya had possessed his thoughts, last night's intimacy like an unforgettable drug.

***

That afternoon, Leon returned home on his motorbike, the evening breeze sweeping across his face. The big house welcomed him with silence—Gito's car was not in the garage, which meant his father had not yet returned from his long meeting.

Inside, only Sonya and a permanent maid, Mbok Siti, remained in the house. The other two maids had gone home at dusk, as usual—they only worked from morning until evening.

Leon heard sounds coming from the kitchen: Sonya was cooking, the aroma of spicy food wafting through the air. Mbok Siti was cleaning the living room, but Leon knew she would soon retire to the back room.

Seeing Sonya alone in the kitchen, evil intentions arose again in Leon's heart. "Now is my chance," he thought, his body burning with memories of the previous night.

But he hesitated—what if his father suddenly came home? Gito could return at any time, and the sound of his car was easily heard from the road in front.

Leon paced around his room, trying to dismiss the idea. "Don't be reckless, Leon. This could ruin everything," he muttered, sitting on the edge of the bed and staring at the clock.

But his desire was too strong—the image of Sonya acting awkwardly earlier that morning only made him want her more.

The clock showed 9 p.m., and the house was getting quieter. Mbok Siti was already asleep, and Gito still hadn't come home. Finally, Leon took the plunge. "Just for a moment," he whispered, stepping out of his room towards the master bedroom downstairs.

Sonya's door was half open, the dim yellow light from the bedside lamp illuminating the room. Sonya was sitting on the edge of the bed, reading a book while wearing a thin cream-coloured nightgown that accentuated her curves.

Her hair was loose, and she looked tired but beautiful in the dim light.

Leon entered without knocking, closing the door quietly behind him.

Sonya gasped, her book falling to the floor. "Leon? What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice trembling, her eyes avoiding his again, just like this morning.

Leon approached with determined steps, his eyes full of lust. "I can't stop thinking about you, Sonya. Last night... it was incredible."

Without waiting for an answer, he pulled Sonya to her feet, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist. His lips immediately pressed against hers, a deep, passionate kiss, his tongue slipping inside, dancing with Sonya's still stiff tongue.

Sonya tried to resist—her hands pushed against Leon's chest, her body wriggling, trying to break free. "Leon, stop! This is wrong... your father could come home at any moment!" she said between kisses, her voice half pleading.

But her resistance wasn't very strong—like the night before, there was doubt in her eyes, a mixture of fear and desire she didn't want to admit. Her body didn't fully retreat, instead responding slightly as Leon drew closer.