The sound of the bathroom door opening, the woman covered herself with a white, highly absorbent towel. Her hair fell beautifully, looking like it had been tidied up earlier. Her skin is smooth, her eyebrows are neat, her lips are red without any lipstick and her eyes are very beautiful which she got from her late mother and also she has a tall and ideal body.
Freen Sarocha, 25 years.
She took a white shirt and baggy black jeans from the wardrobe. Old fashion. She doesn't even think about fashion, but whatever she wears looks like people's inspiration.
Freen's body reflection can be seen in the mirror she just bought after not looking in the mirror for a long time after surgery. Now, she is fine. The fear of looking directly at the rather long scar has been muffled by a pair of white butterfly carvings. She called it an angel's wing. No, not She. But, Saint.
After putting on the jeans, her hands slipped into the sleeves of over-sized shirt, then started to close the buttons from the bottom. Her eyes only stayed on the two white ink tattoos, then slowly the last button was fastened, the white butterfly closed, not to be seen again.
White butterfly : Pieris
After the surgery, Freen lives in hers dream house.
A one-roof dwelling type place, with no stairs and no partitions, everything inside shares the warmth of the yellow light hanging in the middle.
The eye can see anything in this room: a natural patterned wooden dining table with a mirror above it, a long standing mirror, a pink sofa with a few cat scratches, a small cupboard and one large cupboard, a white bed, a work desk with a study lamp still on and laptops with blank white pages, and yeah, toilet doors.
As for the exterior of this house, there are two windows and one door, with walls painted in plain white, the roof outside is blue, there is a yard large enough to play with pets, and another red postbox that has never been used.
Almost forgot, there are about three boards arranged to put books that are very valuable but never read. Freen wrote the book, without reading it again. At the end of the top row were lavender flowers, real and still fresh.
Before, she had never wanted to own a home, because she felt she was only a moment in the world. But, now she didn't think like that anymore.
....
Freen heard a voice from outside the door, someone speaking faintly. Freen walked to the doorknob and opened it. Nam is her sister and manager at the same time, she is talking to the blue eyed cat, "Oh Minee, you are so beautiful." Nam just took a persian cat out of a pink pet bag.
Minee's fur was splashed with mud on the side of the road when Freen took her to the park this morning.
Minee has been hugged by her owner. Its long, silky fur was occasionally caressed by Freen. Minee's eyes seemed unable to hold back the comfort, her clean body and gentle caresses made this white cat now sleep in Freen's lap.
Nam headed to the car then took some white plastic bags and returned to the house again. "Next month your book will be published again, Freen." Nam opened the contents of the bag and put the various foods on the table. Nam stood up to pick up two pairs of spoons and forks in the kitchen, "Here," She passed the spoons and forks to Freen, "Maybe around the end of the month." she continued. Nam started to separate the food for herself and for Freen.
Freen didn't really care about that information, she was just stunned by the food that was in front of her. However, it wasn't for her.
"Are you kidding me, Nam?" Freen said when she saw only salad and mineral water for her. Whereas Nam has burgers, pasta and fries full of cheese. Nam obviously put the food some distance apart, the salad and the bottle of drink looked isolated.
YOU ARE READING
White Butterfly || Eng Ver. Freenbecky GxG
FanfictionSaint is someone who loves Rebecca in silence, knowing that he has no chance, he gives Freen a chance to live by donating his heart, but with a few conditions. One of them helped Rebecca Armstrong find true love. And followed by other silly terms. O...