" FALLING INLOVE WITH MY MAFIA BESTFRIEND"/COMPLETED

FRIENDZONE

FREEN'S POV

I couldn't help but smile as I watched her cooking in the kitchen, even though she complained a lot. But still, she cooked delicious food for me. I slowly walked towards her and hugged her from behind.

"Freen?" Becky questioned, surprised by my sudden affection.

"Just wanted to thank you for doing this," I replied, expressing my gratitude.

Becky responded with a hint of suspicion, "Wow! What's up? Why are you being like this to me now? What did you do wrong?"

Her words caught me off guard. Why did showing gratitude have to be associated with wrongdoing? I didn't want to engage in a potentially tense conversation, so I hesitated for a moment.

"Uhmmm, 83112 Becca..." I mumbled, unsure of how to respond.

She didn't answer, and I felt a tinge of annoyance at myself for saying something that seemed strange. I let go of her and bit my lip, trying to calm myself down.

"Beccaaaa?" I called out, hoping to continue the conversation.

"What?" Becky replied, sounding a bit exasperated.

"PSSSH... Never mind!" I exclaimed, deciding to drop the subject.

With that, I left her in the kitchen and retreated to my room. I flopped down on the bed and covered my face with the blanket.

"What are you doing, Freen? Stop acting weird in front of her. She's your best friend, right? But why do you overreact to everything? You promised, didn't you? To get rid of your feelings for her! What's up... What's up..." I grumbled to myself, feeling conflicted.

BECKY'S POV

"Aissssh! What's with that... 83112? What does she mean? She's really weird sometimes," I muttered to myself, feeling confused by Freen's cryptic remark. She had a tendency to act unpredictably, and it was challenging to understand her mood swings.

Putting the food I cooked for Freen on the table, I paused for a moment, contemplating the meaning behind her words. I couldn't help but feel perplexed by her behavior. One moment, she would be angry with me, and the next, she would sulk. It was difficult to keep up with her ever-changing emotions.

Thinking that Freen might be in the living room, I made my way there. However, she wasn't there when I arrived. I decided to check her room, as she often retreated there when she needed some space. Knocking on her door, I called out to her.

"P'Freen?"

But there was no response. I knocked again, growing increasingly concerned.

"Where is she?" I wondered aloud, growing more anxious by the second.

I knocked once more, hoping for a reply.

"Pfreen?! Are you inside?"

Finally, Freen's weak response reached my ears.

"Uhmmmmm..."

Relieved that she was at least acknowledging my presence, I suggested, "Come on! Let's eat?"

"Okay," Freen replied.

Still waiting outside her door, I hoped she would eventually come out. I didn't want to risk making her angry again, as she was still difficult to persuade.