The dragonflies tattoist - Freenbecky

Chapter 11

TW: SEXUAL ASSAULT 

If Becky hadn't been leaning against her car, smoking a cigarette, Freen probably wouldn't have recognized the vehicle. She had only been inside once, and it was nighttime, so she hadn't really gotten a good look at it.

Now, under the fading light of the setting sun, Freen could see the car was expensive, though it seemed like Becky didn't care much about appearances. There were scratches, dents, and dirt marring the paint.

"I thought you'd be quicker, Freen," Becky teased, stepping away from the car to open the passenger door for her. The cigarette hit the ground.

"Well, you thought wrong, Becky," Freen shot back as she awkwardly climbed in, nearly pressing a button she was sure looked dangerous.

The inside wasn't much better than the outside. Paint stains were splattered everywhere, burger wrappers littered the floor, and empty coffee cups were scattered across the seats.

"Hope you like my mess," Becky muttered with a grin as she closed Freen's door, walked around the car, and got in the driver's seat.

"It doesn't matter what I think. You're gonna keep it this way no matter what."

"You're right about that," Becky agreed, smiling.

"Where are we going?" Freen asked after a few seconds, watching as Becky fastened her seatbelt with surprising care, like she was thanking it for keeping her safe.

"My studio, obviously," Becky replied, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "It's been two days. Don't tell me you forgot."

Even though it stung knowing Becky just wanted her to pose for another nude painting session, Freen couldn't bring herself to be mad. After all, Becky was just doing her job.

"No, of course not," Freen lied.

She laughed when she saw Becky stroke the steering wheel like it was a baby.

"What's so funny?" Becky asked.

"I just feel like laughing," Freen shrugged.

"Well, I want to kiss you, but I'm holding back," Becky countered, raising one eyebrow.

Anyone could've noticed that Freen had forgotten how to breathe.

"You're insane, Becky," she tried to say it as a joke, as if she didn't want that kiss more than anything, but the tremble in her voice gave her away.

"I know," Becky replied, starting the car. "And coming from you, that's a compliment."

"Are you serious?" Freen asked, laughing.

"Anything you say sounds beautiful to me, Freen."

"That doesn't make any sense, Becky."

"For God's sake, Freen. I bet you haven't even touched the Howe book I gave you. You don't seem to get it, life doesn't make sense."

Freen felt embarrassed because, in truth, everything that had happened with Jan, work, and her complicated thoughts about Becky being with someone else had left her with no time to read it.

"I'm sorry, Becky. I promise I'll read it as soon as I can."

"I only gave it to you so you'd read one specific passage I highlighted... it's kind of sad you didn't even notice."

Freen felt genuinely bad and lowered her gaze. Becky had handed her one of the strangest books by her favorite author, and she'd just set it aside without a second thought. She hadn't opened it, looked at it, or even thought about it. She felt so foolish.