The dragonflies tattoist - Freenbecky

Chapter 5

Becky moved so quietly that if Freen hadn't been watching the sidewalk, she wouldn't have noticed her approach. Becky sat down beside her, a lighter in hand and a lit cigarette dangling from her mouth.

Why hadn't Freen left when she had the chance? She didn't even know herself.

"Nice night, isn't it?" Becky remarked.

Freen was immediately puzzled.

"Excuse me?"

Becky ignored her question.

"I could paint this sky, I'm sure of it. Capturing the moon's glow might be tricky, but I can manage. The rest should be a piece of cake," Becky said, gazing up at the night sky.

"Are you serious?" Freen asked, baffled. How could Becky be more interested in painting the sky than in the fact that Freen's arms were still ink-free?

Becky was so peculiar!

"Of course, I am," Becky replied with a smile, her green eyes fixed on the stars. "Look at the moon! It seems bigger than ever... And the stars... I've never seen so many."

Freen loved how Becky's eyes appreciated the night sky, and how her words flowed with such admiration, but she was too preoccupied with herself to notice that Becky was genuinely enjoying the view.

"Can you stop beating around the bush and get to the point?"

"What are you talking about?" Becky turned to look at her, a hint of annoyance on her face. Her brow was furrowed, and her lips were pressed into a thin line, resembling a child who had been denied a treat.

"You know what I'm talking about, Becky! My arms!"

"They're pretty cute," Becky complimented with a grin. "But honestly, I prefer your butt." In another situation, Freen would have blushed.

"Can you stop being so annoying and...?"

"Want a cigarette?" Becky interrupted, pulling one from her chest. Freen wondered if she had a massive stash there, and then felt a bit annoyed that Becky had ignored her again.

"I don't smoke, Becky." The girl just shrugged and put the cigarette back, taking a drag from the one in her mouth before removing it with her fingers and exhaling the smoke.

If only she had not been so preoccupied with her own worries, Freen might have noticed the way Becky seemed to put her whole self into this simple action, the delicate way her fingers held the cigarette and her lips released the smoke.

"Please, don't tell anyone," Freen pleaded. She was scared, not just for herself but for her family too.

"Don't tell anyone what? That you don't smoke?"

"Becky! You know what I mean!"

"Actually, I don't," Becky replied, looking at her. "... And it's frustrating," she admitted.

"Don't tell anyone that I don't have tattoos."

The green-eyed girl just looked at her, completely puzzled, then smiled sweetly.

"Okay," Becky agreed with a shrug. And even though Freen could see the desire in her eyes to keep gazing at the sky, those emerald eyes stayed fixed on her face, slowly taking in every feature, as if trying to capture every pore on her skin.

"Okay? That's all you say? Aren't you going to ask for anything in return?"

"Do I have to?"

"I don't know... I mean, I don't have tattoos..."

"Is there something wrong with that?"

Freen blinked a few times.

"Of course there is! Trusting a tattoo artist without tattoos is like paying for a virgin prostitute! If my clients found out, I..."