The dragonflies tattoist - Freenbecky ☆𝆬

Chapter 25

Becky stood at the podium, dressed in a black beanie, a buttoned-up jacket, fitted pants, and tall boots. Freen couldn't help but think it was the same outfit Becky had worn the first time they'd met at the tattoo shop, though it was hard to be certain.

Hard because it no longer fit her the same way.

At a glance, Freen noticed the sickly pallor of her skin, her hollowed cheeks, and the drastic weight loss that left her frame almost unrecognizable. The jacket no longer hugged her body but hung loosely, shifting awkwardly with every slight movement. Her pants, once snug, had no thighs to cling to anymore, and Freen was sure Becky had to rely on a belt to keep them from slipping. The tall boots, once an effortless part of her look, now seemed to weigh down her unsteady steps. The beanie sat crookedly on her head, and the sunglasses she wore felt like a clumsy attempt to hide something.

Her posture wasn't upright, her gaze was glued to the floor, and every ounce of confidence Becky once radiated was absent as she approached the microphone.

"Good evening," Becky greeted.

Her voice, once commanding and vibrant, was now faint, broken, and so fragile that Freen felt like even the softest breeze could carry it away.

Freen's stomach twisted, and a lump rose in her throat. She wanted to cry.

"Thank you for coming to my exhibit, 'Hidden Strangers.' It's a concept I developed when..."

But Freen couldn't hear the rest of her words. She was too focused on Becky's trembling hands, her cracked and dry lips, the colorless flush of her face, her dull and disheveled hair, and the pack of cigarettes poking out from the front pocket of her jacket.

When Freen had decided to come to the exhibit, she'd expected to find the same Becky she had always known. She thought Becky would be sneaking off to kiss some girl in the bathroom and would likely tease her with an outrageous proposition for a threesome that she'd flatly refuse.

What Freen hadn't expected -what she couldn't have prepared for- was this version of Becky. And somehow, the thought of seeing her kissing someone else felt like it would've hurt far less than this.

"Maybe you're all wondering what's behind these covers," Becky began, her voice shaking as she gestured toward the shrouded painting behind her. The painting everyone had been waiting to see. That was when Freen's focus snapped back to her words.

"I... One day, I lost my grandmother and decided to get a tattoo in her memory. That's when I met the tattoo artist without tattoos, the one I painted, and whose portrait is hidden here. At first, I just thought she was cute, but I never imagined anything would happen between us. Of course, I was wrong. Life has a way of reminding you just how wrong you can be. She hugged me that day, and it was the first real hug I'd had since my grandmother's death. Actually, it was the first real hug I'd had in years."

Becky paused, her trembling hand lowering to her side. For a moment, her silence seemed heavier than her words, and Freen noticed the delicate tears tracing pale paths down the artist's once-vivid cheeks.

"It took me two months to see her again. I was so afraid of being disappointed that I avoided her until my brother died. Then, I decided to get another tattoo. I asked her out for dinner and realized just how amazing she was. That terrified me, though. I'd never thought anyone was too amazing for me before. And suddenly, I was scared... scared of changing. It's hard to explain, but back then, one of the things I loved most was myself. The idea of losing who I was... it was unbearable."

Becky stopped again, and Freen could see how her body tensed, her head bowed slightly. More tears fell, and her voice broke when she finally continued.

"I gave in to love, though. And I swear, it was the best choice I ever made." A faint, bittersweet smile appeared on her lips, a fleeting echo of the confidence she used to wear so effortlessly. "She embraced all my craziness and tried to understand it. She loved my lack of romance, my weird ideas. She ignored my messes and forgave the person I'd been before. And in return, I loved her in ways I never thought I was capable of. I loved her the way only a unicorn can love a dragon. I loved her the way only a depressed painter could love a tattoo artist who specializes in dragonflies."