Perfectly Arranged

-55- " Shall we have it? "

[shall we have it?]

Third person's pov

After 2 years..

The morning sun streamed through the windows of Freen's penthouse apartment, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air. Freen, still in her pajamas, was already mentally mapping out the day's errands with someone. It wasn't just a list of tasks; it was a carefully orchestrated ballet of shared moments, a testament to their relationship.

First stop: the bustling Chatuchak Weekend Market. Freen, usually surrounded by the polished formality of boardrooms, navigated the crowded aisles with her, laughing as they haggled over vibrant silks and quirky souvenirs. Her, ever the pragmatist, kept a watchful eye on their budget, while Freen, fueled by a rare day off, indulged in the sensory overload, picking up a hand-painted ceramic bowl and a ridiculously oversized plush panda for her.

Lunch was a casual affair at a street food stall, the spicy aroma of Pad Thai filling the air. They shared a plate, their fingers occasionally brushing as they reached for the same spring roll. The casual intimacy was a stark contrast to the formal dinners Freen usually attended.

Next, a trip to a small, independent bookstore. Her, a voracious reader, disappeared into the stacks, emerging moments later with a first edition of a classic novel she'd been searching for. Freen, meanwhile, found a small, leather-bound journal, a perfect place to record the quiet moments of their life together.

Their afternoon took a more practical turn: a visit to a home goods store. They debated the merits of different throw pillows, their playful banter punctuated by shared laughter and the occasional playful shove. As someone with her keen eye for design, guided Freen's choices, resulting in a carefully curated selection that reflected both their styles.

The final stop was a local flower market. As a lover of all things floral, carefully selected a bouquet of lilies, their delicate fragrance filling the car on their drive home. Freen, touched by the gesture, smells the scent of lilies and the warmth of their love filling the air.

With a formal dinner or a lavish celebration, but with a simple meal they cooked together in Freen's house, the aroma of garlic and ginger filling the air. They ate on the balcony, watching the city lights twinkle below, a quiet contentment settling between them. The day wasn't about ticking off a list of errands; it was about sharing moments, creating memories, and reaffirming their love in the most ordinary of ways. Freen walked to her office inside the house alongside this girl.

The mahogany desk, usually a symbol of Freen's power as CEO of her father's sprawling empire, felt oppressive tonight. The city lights blurred through the panoramic window, mirroring the turmoil in her chest. A half-empty glass of scotch sat beside a stack of unread reports - stark reminders of the responsibilities she juggled daily. Tonight, however, the weight of the company felt insignificant compared to the anticipation thrumming through her veins.

"You look... stunning," Freen managed, the words feeling clumsy and inadequate. Looking at the girl beside her.

The girl's smile was hesitant, a delicate bloom against the backdrop of her apprehension. "You too. That suit... it's... powerful." She trailed off, her gaze lingering on Freen's tailored jacket, the subtle power it conveyed.

The air crackled with unspoken words, the unspoken understanding between them a silent language spoken only through glances and touches. They moved with a practiced ease, a comfortable familiarity born from years of shared laughter and whispered secrets. They shared a bottle of wine, its rich aroma filling the otherwise sterile office. Their conversation flowed effortlessly, weaving through the day's events, their shared dreams, and the anxieties that clung to them like shadows.