The dragonflies tattoist - Freenbecky ☆𝆬

Chapter 21

In the sixth month, Jan and Chanon's daughter was born.

Becky had just returned the day before from her trip to the mountains, but Freen hadn't had the chance to see her yet. That day, however, they'd planned for Freen to join Becky and her mom for a routine check-up. It was Sunday, her day off.

She dressed in her usual fitted jeans, a red turtleneck sweater, and tied her hair with a ribbon. She hadn't worn ribbons much since becoming a tattoo artist, but today felt like a good day to bring a little of her old self back.

"Where are you off to?" Milika asked, dusting the living room as Freen passed by.

"I'm heading out with Becky. Her mom has a doctor's appointment, and I'm going with them."

"So her mother knows you, but I still haven't met Becky..."

"Milika, I promise you'll meet her soon." Freen had been making this promise to her for a while now.

Silence.

"Is what Jan said true? About the... injuries?"

"It is." She couldn't lie to Milika. "But those injuries don't define her. She's the most incredible person I know. She's just a bit broken."

Milika sighed.

"How 'broken' is 'a bit'?"

"Milika, I really don't have time for this." Freen could already feel her stomach twisting at the turn the conversation was taking.

She headed to the door, only pausing when she heard her mom's voice behind her.

"Just... try not to break, too. Alright?"

"Alright."

_____

Becky was waiting outside her house, leaning against her car with a cigarette in her mouth. She wore a blue dress with matching shoes, her wrists wrapped in two bandages, and her makeup was soft and understated, a far cry from her usual dark, dramatic look.

"Did I ever mention I have the most gorgeous girlfriend in the world?" was the first thing the artist said when she saw Freen for the first time in weeks.

"Maybe," Freen replied with a shy smile as she moved closer to her girlfriend, letting their lips find each other again for a few moments.

The taste wasn't what she remembered; it was tinged with smoke and something else she couldn't quite place.

"You're beautiful, baby," Becky murmured, brushing a strand of hair from Freen's face and giving her a soft kiss on the nose. The smell of the cigarette burning between Becky's fingers started to bother her, but she said nothing. She'd get used to it. "I missed you so much." The sigh that slipped from Becky's lips made Freen wonder if it had really been weeks or maybe years since they last saw each other.

"I missed you, too," Freen admitted as she wrapped her arms around Becky's waist and nestled her face against her neck, seeking the familiar scent of the artist.

In the past, she would have found the warm smell of paint mixed with vanilla perfume. That day, it was still there, but now tinged with the sharp smell of cigarettes.

"I love you," Becky said suddenly, tilting Freen's chin to meet her gaze.

And even though her scent was different and her clothes unfamiliar, when brown eyes met green, Freen could still see the unicorn she loved so much.

"I love you too." And they kissed again.

They could've kept kissing for a thousand lifetimes if it weren't for Christine, who had rolled down the car window with a warm smile.