Chapter 21

Morning arrived, and Freen woke up to tiny, wet licks trailing across her face.

"Oh god, you scared me," she groaned, half-sitting up and gently pushing the little culprit aside.

Startled by the sudden movement, Becky squinted one eye open to witness the scene unfold. There it is, their stubborn little pup—just as feisty as Becky herself—was energetically wagging his tail, nipping at Freen's hair and licking her cheek with relentless affection. Becky chuckled softly to herself and decided to play dead, not wanting to interrupt the adorable moment between Freen and her "baby."

"No, no, no—you go down now, or I swear I'll put you on a leash," Freen scolded, trying to sound stern, though her voice carried the exhaustion of someone who had said the same line at least a zillion times. Puppy barked in protest, his tiny voice echoing his disapproval.

Freen paused, realizing what that bark probably meant.

"Hey, Bac, take your kid out," she called out, the sleepy figure on the opposite bed.

Becky didn't respond.

"Beccccaaaaaa!" Freen raised her voice, scowling before grabbing a soft pillow and flinging it at her. Puppy, as if sensing the rising tension, darted back and forth between their beds like a little referee.

"Whatttt?" Becky finally replied, her voice muffled and still coated with sleep.

"Take out your baby. Now."

"No, you do it... Aren't you going for your run?" Becky mumbled, snuggling deeper under the blanket.

"So?" Freen asked knowingly.

"So take him with you na khaaaa, please?" Becky pleaded, her voice dragging into a sleepy, syrupy charm.

"No way," Freen shot back, grabbing another pillow. "You promised me my personal space wouldn't be interrupted."

"First and last time, promiseee," Becky whined, switching to her cutest voice, the one she knew Freen had no defense against. "Please, P'Fieeen... let me sleep just a little more na kha?"

Freen groaned dramatically and stood up. Puppy, sensing victory, bounced in excitement.

"Alright then," Freen sighed, grabbing the leash. "This is the perfect opportunity to drop him away somewhere forever."

She clipped it onto his collar and walked out with the little guy happily prancing beside her.

Another victory for Becky.

She grinned wide, stretching her arms above her head in satisfaction, before sinking back into the bed with a happy blush. As she turned her gaze across the room, her eyes landed on the cozy little pet corner Freen had set up—neatly arranged supplies, toys, food bowls, even a tiny bed. Everything thoughtfully placed with quiet care.

Her heart melted to the very core.

"How can I not love you, P'Freeeeeen..." she whispered aloud. And this time, she didn't protest the thought at all.

The day went smoothly. Becky had dropped her baby off at Miss Ornarta's condo, making sure everything was in order and he'd be well cared for.

With her studio recording schedule about to kick off, her upcoming days were going to be packed—assignments piling up, exams fast approaching, recordings, and bits of collaboration work scattered in between. But she was determined. She believed she'd find a way to juggle it all.

Later that morning, as she stepped into her very first class of the day, Irin called out to her with uncontainable excitement.

"Becky! I saw the cutest little creature with P'Freen this morning—is it hers? I've never seen it before!"

She said it all in one breath, practically bouncing in place.

"It's ours," Becky answered, grinning from ear to ear.

"Whaaaaatttt?" Irin shrieked a little louder than necessary, drawing a few glances. She leaned in, dramatically placing the back of her hand on Becky's forehead. "Wait... when did things go from 'enemies' to 'ours'? Are you serious or are you sick?"

Becky laughed. "I found him near a coffee café, and trust me—I did everything I could to make my ice queen melt and let me adopt him. And now... it's ours."

Irin gasped, clearly amazed. "Wow. Just—wow. Becky, you must've put a spell on her. You do know she's acting nothing like the Freen we used to know, right?"

Becky shrugged with a knowing smile. "She was never really what everyone perceived her to be."

"Oooeeee," Irin teased. "Someone's so down bad for her ice queen!"

"Shut up," Becky whispered, cheeks warming just as the professor walked in and the room settled down.

Still not done, Irin leaned toward her again, this time lowering her voice to a secretive hush. "Okay but—what's his name? And when are you gonna let me meet him?"

Becky smirked, replying even softer, "We haven't decided yet. We'll talk about it tonight... and we can go visit him during our break.

As night unfolded, the apartment lit up with playful chaos. Freen entered the room only to be greeted by the sight of Becky and the puppy tumbling around—running, jumping, scattering toys across the floor like a storm had passed through. Neither of them even spared her a glance.

Freen stood at the doorway, arms crossed, expression unimpressed.

She was used to Becky's attention—especially in the evenings when she returned home. It had become a quiet, unspoken ritual. But tonight? Nothing.

Clearing her throat loud enough to echo, Freen declared her arrival.

"Uh-humm!"

Both heads turned. Becky flashed her a radiant smile, while the puppy darted toward her, tail wagging in a frenzy, curling around her feet in playful snuggles.

"No, no—go back to your mumma," Freen said quickly, nudging him away with her foot. But the moment the words left her mouth, her own face scrunched up in secondhand embarrassment. Did I just say that? The phrase hung awkwardly in the air, sounding far too domestic for her liking.

She made a dramatic face and groaned, "Eww," under her breath.

Becky giggled. "P'Fieeen, he missed you so much! Pick him up, naa."

"No, no—he's not my business," Freen replied, even as she reached down, scooped him up, gave him a little squish against her chest, then promptly walked over and dropped him into Becky's lap. "You. Play with your toy," she told him flatly before disappearing into the restroom to freshen up.

Later, the room settled into a rhythm of quiet activity. Freen sat on the couch, laptop balanced on her knees, typing away. Becky was curled on her bed, scribbling through her assignment. The puppy, now on his new cushioned bed, was gleefully shredding a soft toy like it was his life's mission.

"P'Fieeen," Becky called, eyes still on her notes, "what should we name him? We have to get his name inserted in the collar too."

Without looking up, Freen answered coolly, "A shoe. A stone. A shop. Suit yourself."

Becky narrowed her eyes. That tone. That was payback for not giving freen her everyday ritual attention.

"P'Fieeen," she said again, more firmly this time. "I'm serious."

"And why do I care exactly?" Freen replied, not even glancing up.

With a quiet sigh and a look of playful resolve, Becky stood from the bed and walked over to her. The puppy, sensing movement, jumped to follow but Becky gently intercepted him.

"No, no, not now baby. I have an important discussion to handle," she cooed, guiding him back to his bed and handing him a new distraction toy.

Once satisfied that her furry little distraction was occupied, Becky turned, gracefully nestled herself beside Freen on the couch, and leaned in—ready to throw her full charm into this negotiation.

"So, are you saying he's all mine now," Becky asked, raising a brow as she tilted her head, eyes narrowing in playful suspicion, "even though you're the one who brought him home?"

Freen didn't miss a beat. With a smirk, she leaned in and gently pushed Becky's head back with one finger. "Think of me as a delivery service," she said coolly. "One that you owe a huge favor to, by the way."

Becky let out an exaggerated huff, crossing her arms in full dramatic fashion. "Well, I don't remember ordering the whole world for him." She gestured to the corner of the room—now completely transformed with a plush little bed, a basket overflowing with toys, food and water bowls, even a tiny mat—an entire setup.

Freen raised her brows, unimpressed. "And if I hadn't done that, he'd have taken over the entire room by now. You should actually be thanking me that I didn't make him sleep on the balcony."

"It's just a name," Becky said with a groan, slumping beside her. "Why are you making this so difficult? Can't we do this one thing together?"

"That's exactly my point," Freen said, still glued to her laptop. "It's just a name. So go ahead—do it yourself."

Becky sighed and started to think aloud, her fingers tapping against her chin. "What about... ummmmm..."

Before she could finish, Freen chimed in—clearly not helping. "A bread. A blade. Blood. A bone?" she said, smirking as she tossed each word out like she was flipping through a dictionary of ridiculousness.

Becky blinked, confused. "You're not going to be serious about it, right?"

And with that challenging tone she straightened up, determination written all over her face. "Bone it is then."

Freen looked up, clearly horrified. "What?! No way. Absolutely not."

"Nope. It's done." Becky was already on her feet, heading toward the pup, who—of course—was bouncing in place like a living spring. "And if he ever asks, 'Who gave me this weird name?' I'm going to tell him it was you."

"Becky, no—"

"Bone, come here!" Becky called sweetly, crouching down. "Bone, your name is Bone now. Come here, let me put your name on your collar, baby," she said as she gently patted him, ruffling his soft fur. He responded by jumping—well he was always jumping.

"You've got to be kidding me," Freen muttered, marching toward them.

"I'm not!" Becky held up a small tag sticker with the word "Bone" scribbled across it like it was a medal. "See? Official now. Bone Bone," she teased, grinning at Freen.

Freen narrowed her eyes and grabbed a clean sticker. With the calm precision of someone barely tolerating nonsense, she neatly wrote out: Bon Bon.

"At least you can be serious about it," she muttered with rolling her eyes, fastening it onto the collar.

Becky blinked at her for a second—then broke into a slow, victorious smile. "Awww... I finally made you named our child," she think to herself in teasing tone, her heart visibly warming at the sight.

Time slowed a little after that.

The three of them ended up gathered in the cozy corner of the room—Becky sitting cross-legged on the floor, gently repeating "Bon Bon" as she stroked the pup, helping him get used to the sound of his name. He rolled onto his back in pure joy, tail wagging wildly.

Freen moved around quietly, organizing scattered toys, setting things right, and getting his final meal of the day ready like it had become part of her nightly routine.

In that soft, ordinary chaos—a little dog with a silly name, a couch with crumpled blankets, two girls not quite saying what they felt—something unspoken filled the room.

Something warm. Something that felt like a beginning.

Days slipped by, almost dreamlike for Freen. From the outside, everything looked picture-perfect—sunlight pouring through their window, laughter echoing in shared spaces, a puppy trailing behind wherever they went. But inside, Freen felt like she was unraveling. No matter how hard she tried to maintain distance—from Becky, from BonBon—her demons wouldn't let her sleep at night.

The more beautiful things appeared on the outside, the more terrified Freen became within. Distance became her only mantra. She repeated it like a prayer—morning and night, again and again. But the more she pulled away, the clearer the vulnerability became in her eyes... and Becky saw every bit of it.

In this new rhythm of life, Freen had quietly taken charge of BonBon's vet visits, his food, his early morning and late-night walks. Becky, on the other hand, handled his afternoons—spoiling him with playtime, cuddles, and far too many treats. They didn't talk about it, but it worked. It felt like a partnership.

And under the already too-sweet weather, something else began to stir.

Becky had started going to the studio after college to record her new album. Without being asked, Freen took it upon herself to drop her off and pick her up every single day. At first, she masked it with casual excuses like—

"I'm heading that way anyway, might as well give you a lift." "I have a meeting near your studio, come along." "Need to run an errand, I'll drop you first."

But eventually, it became their unspoken ritual. No questions, no explanations—just clear understanding.

Freen would drop her, Freen would pick her up, and most nights they'd grab dinner together on the way home.

Still, Freen did everything she could to be colder, ruder, more distant. But it only had the opposite effect on Becky as she went even more down bad for freen.

So much so, that even being seen as a little sister didn't bother her anymore. Just having a place in Freen's life was everything to her. That was enough. Or at least... that's what she told herself.

But even the "sister" tag couldn't tame Becky's imagination. Her thoughts kept drifting to places they probably shouldn't—still a dangerous territory, yet she couldn't stop herself. With Freen, everything felt different. And as her feelings grew, so did her curiosity.

Becky started thinking more and more about Freen's fate—about the darkness that seemed to haunt her every step. And being Becky, she didn't just wonder. She searched.

She was Becky for the world—but when no one was looking, she turned into Dora the Explorer. Late-night Google searches, deep dives into obscure forums, library books stacked in a corner of their room. She wasn't even someone who believed in superstitions or destiny, but suddenly, it was like she was preparing to write a whole PhD thesis on it.

Not for herself. And not just because she was falling for Freen, though she knew she was. But because she simply couldn't bear the thought of how much silent pain Freen must be carrying every single day. The thought of it—it just didn't sit right in her heart.

Both Freen and Becky were fighting silent battles of their own.

Freen was at war with her inner demons—because deep down, she knew. She knew that Becky and BonBon had carved out a space in her heart that she never meant to offer. It scared her more than anything. Love wasn't something she allowed herself to feel, let alone imagine.

Meanwhile, Becky was fighting just as hard—not against her feelings, but against the boundaries. She was trying her best not to cross that invisible line, the one that, if overstepped, could make Freen shut her out completely.

The truth was, both of them were down bad. The only difference was Becky let herself feel it.

And Freen—Freen was terrified to even name it. She couldn't dare step into the thought of that one terrifying word:

L-O-V-E.

But with bonbon, everything was in the shade of pink. No matter what inner battle they both go through, bonbon makes them much easier.

One evening, as she was scrolling through her gallery, she landed on a selfie of the three of them—Freen, Becky, and BonBon. A small moment frozen in time.

Becky grinned.

Irin, peeking over her shoulder, raised an eyebrow. "Oeeee, look at this family pic. It's so cute. But why does Freen look so grumpy? Still... she's kinda handsome."

"Yeah, I know," Becky replied, smiling so wide it almost hurt. "Because she's daddy, right? Da-dd-daddy," she echoed, dragging the word out like a secret joke only her heart understood.

Irin just rolled her eyes, used to it by now. She knew Becky was too far gone when it came to Freen.

Everything seemed so beautiful, didn't it?

But that's the thing about calm—it only makes the storm that follows even more heartbreaking.

So suit yourself for the chapters to come.