[COMPLETED]❞𝑪𝒉𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒊𝒔𝒏'𝒕 𝒂𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒗𝒆. 𝑪𝒉𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒂𝒍𝒔𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒖𝒍.❞
Meeting someone as arrogant as Thea wasn't a possibility until she met Benny.
And there was no figuring out Benny Watts.
♛♔°⋆♚...
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A sitting Thea in her studio which she now owned, felt not misery but a sense of fullness.
She hadn't touched alcohol, drugs or another man or woman in years, but that didn't stop her from enjoying what little things she took for granted.
She felt a tear drop from her eye to the fur of King who now sat on her lap. It wasn't of sadness though, something far better.
She took off, ready to go meet Beth for lunch in her hometown of New York and opened the door to filter fresh air into the dark room. On the street she recognized the thrift store she had once walked into to buy leather with her so little amount of money, how that felt like forever ago when she was only caught up in herself and fighting with others.
How she not wished that she could go back in time and regret it all, because the pain caused growth, and she would always be grateful.
As a successful artist, she had the money to go buy whatever she liked in fancy department stores, but she stopped herself and walked into the little thrift shop.
All the smells she had once recoiled at she now appreciated. She took a gander around the store, creeping up on the back, which she had never gone as far before. At the back, she saw a wooden board, covered by jewelry and jeans. She moved everything off, and it was revealed to be a chess board. She smiled to herself.
Looking at the lady who had a few years put on her, she looked as radiant as she had last time. "I don't know if you remember me but I'd like to apologize for-"
The same old woman explained she has already been forgiven, and Thea settled on the chess board.
"Did you learn your lesson?" The old woman smiled.
"And what may that lesson be?"
"To rather than run away, to grow and enjoy."
Thea threw 20 dollars on the table and a smile.
"I think I actually have learned my lesson, if you can believe it."
They smiled at each other, and never saw each other again.
She walked outside, with almost all burdens lifted, when the last one proceeded to lift itself as its most unexpected moment.
A tall lanky, blonde haired man, with the arrogant aura she so loved, dressed in nothing but black and a cowboys hat.
And as he turned around after thanking the shop keeper at the opposite side of the street, all the weight that held him down seemed to lift off his shoulders.
The way he watched the figure was without addiction or need, but peace.
Only a sense of euphoria remained.
He dropped his bag.
She ran.
He stopped cars in the street.
Honks followed, but they were not heard.
And in the middle of all the strangeness, a familiarity.
