Chapter 15: Nothing But You

Freen had never been one for grand, sweeping declarations. She wasn't the type to spill her heart in long paragraphs or write pages filled with romantic metaphors. Words often fell short for her—too fragile, too small to carry the depth of what she felt.

But she loved. God, she loved in ways that didn't need to be spoken.

In the way she always offered the first bite of her favorite dessert to Becky, without a second thought.In the way her hand instinctively reached for Becky's in a crowd, fingers curling protectively, like the safest anchor in a sea of strangers.In the way her fingertips traced soft, invisible shapes on Becky's back when she slept, or how her lips found their way to Becky's hairline in the quiet hours of the night—just the lightest kiss, like a whispered vow.In the way she never let Becky sleep without first serenading her with a lullaby, planting kisses across her face until she drifted off with a smile.In the way she always made sure she was the first to wake, just to spend a few secret moments watching Becky's morning face, memorizing it like a prayer.In the way she gently roused her with warm arms and sleepy hums, pulling her in for soft cuddles before the world intruded.In the way she reminded her to drink water throughout the day, keeping a mental checklist like Becky was a living, breathing piece of art she had vowed to protect. In the way she scanned the weather forecast before letting Becky step out, making sure her outfit was warm enough, or light enough, or just right.

Freen's love was layered.Like a mother's tender care.Like a lover's indulgent spoiling.Like a father's quiet protection.Like a best friend who knew every secret but never judged.Like home.

Because that's what she was to Becky. And what Becky would always be to her.

Home.

And now, when she couldn't be there in the way she wanted—physically, tangibly, arms wrapped tight around the girl she loved—Freen showed it the only way she could.

By making sure Becky felt her.Felt her love. Even if it had to arrive in the form of beautifully wrapped packages every two hours, like little whispers of "I miss you," and "I'm sorry," and "Please don't feel alone."

Becky had turned 21 just a day ago. And Freen had missed it. Not by choice—but by schedule. By duty. By everything that came with being someone beloved by the world and yet aching for just one person.

So, she did what she could. Since the clock struck midnight on Becky's birthday, Freen had made sure a new present reached her every two hours—each one wrapped with care, with handwritten notes attached, some sweet, some cheeky, all echoing the same desperate devotion.

But in return?

All Freen got were sulky emojis.

She rubbed her temple, letting herself sink deeper into the chair in her quiet hotel room. Her eyes fluttered shut, heart heavy beneath the polished veneer of being "fine."

And then her phone buzzed. Again.

Without even checking, she knew.

Another sulky emoji.A teary-eyed face. A dramatic frown. A full-on pout.Becky had sent at least fifteen of them in the last thirty-six hours—one after each gift. One after every note Freen had written with trembling hands and aching guilt. One for every effort she made to say, "I'm with you, even from here."

Freen exhaled softly, phone resting on her palm as her thumb hovered over Becky's message.

Because she understood. God, she understood.

This wasn't about the gifts. Or the messages. Or the effort.

It was about her. Her absence. Her promise to be there, broken by the weight of the world pulling her away.

Becky didn't want wrapped boxes or poetic cards.

She just wanted Freen.

And Freen wanted nothing more than to give her that.

But right now, all she could do was send another box. Another note. Another "I love you."

And pray Becky could feel it in the spaces between their silence.

—-----Next day after Becky's birthdayThe first package arrived early in the morning, just as Becky was rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

It was a delicate velvet box, small and elegant. Inside, a silver bracelet with a tiny star charm dangled softly, catching the morning light.

There was a note tucked inside.

"Happy Birthday, my bb. You're my brightest star. Even from here, I see you shining. Please don't be mad at me."

Becky stared at the note for a long time.

Then, with a huff, she picked up her phone and sent a single emoji.

🥺

Freen, who had been anxiously waiting for a reply, sighed dramatically when she saw it.

"Ack, she's sulking already," she muttered, running a hand through her hair.

Two hours later, the next delivery arrived.

A small music box. When wound up, it played their song—the one Freen always hummed absentmindedly when she held Becky close. The one that Becky had once whispered was her favorite sound in the world.

Another note was placed carefully inside.

"A song to remind you I'm always with you. Even when I'm stupidly far away."

A minute later, her phone buzzed again.

😒

Freen groaned, throwing herself face-first onto the hotel bed. "She's killing me," she mumbled into the pillow.

Two more hours passed.

The third package arrived.

This time, it was a small box of Becky's favorite chocolates, the ones Freen used to sneak into her bag whenever they had long days at work.

The note inside read:

"Do I need to bribe you with sweets now? Fine. I'll do it. Anything to make you smile. Anything, babe."

And yet—

😑

Another sulky emoji.

By the time the fourth gift arrived—an oversized hoodie that smelled like Freen's perfume—Freen was pacing her hotel room, phone clutched in her hand, waiting for something more than just another grumpy emoji.

And yet—

😕

"Ai' Becky!" Freen whined, running a frustrated hand through her hair. "Come on, baby, at least say something!"

But no words came. Just silence. Just sulky faces. Just the ache of missing someone who meant everything.

And deep down, Freen knew exactly what was happening.

Becky didn't care about the gifts. Not really.

She didn't need bracelets or chocolates or music boxes or hoodies.

She needed Freen. Her presence. Her arms. Her quiet understanding. Her sleepy voice at midnight. Her laugh echoing in the same room.

She needed the one thing Freen couldn't give her right now.

And that truth—more than anything—was the weight Freen felt pressing hard against her chest.

Heavier than distance. Heavier than duty.

It was the weight of love, aching to be near.

_____________That Night—Freen's Hotel Room

By the time the day was over, Freen had sent a total of 15 gifts.

And all she had received in return were 15 sulky emojis.

At this point, she wasn't even sure if Becky was sulking or just having fun torturing her.

She lay back on her bed, exhausted. Every part of her ached—not just from the day's work but from the constant ache of missing.

God, she hated this.

Hated the distance. Hated how she was missing out on moments with Becky. Hated how she could only love her from across the world.

And most of all, she hated how, despite all her efforts, she still hadn't been able to make Becky smile.

She reached for her phone.

No new messages.

Just that last, stubborn little emoji staring back at her.

😑

Freen let out a groan, rolling onto her stomach, gripping her pillow tightly.

"Ugh. I should just run away."

She wasn't kidding.

For a moment, she actually entertained the thought of booking the next available flight home. Just showing up at Becky's door, holding her tight, apologizing in person instead of through dumb little notes.

She almost did it.

Almost.

But the rational part of her knew she couldn't.

She had given this project three months of pain, and now, in its final stretch, she was stuck.

Sometimes, Freen couldn't help but wonder—how beautiful would it have been if she had never signed this project? If their relationship had never been tested by distance and time? She longed to be her old self again, the one who came to England just for Becky, with no obligations, no deadlines—just to be there for her, as she always promised.Present Day

Freen couldn't remember the last time she had felt this exhausted. The kind of exhaustion that sat heavy in her bones, that wrapped around her heart like a vice. It wasn't just the endless interviews, the flashing lights, the scripted answers she had to repeat over and over again. It was something deeper—something missing.

Someone is missing.

Becky.

Then the knock on her hotel door was unexpected.

Freen glanced up, groggy from exhaustion. When she opened the door, she found the receptionist standing there.

With boxes.

Dozens of them.

Familiar boxes.

Freen's heart clenched as she stared. "What...?"

"They were all delivered to you," the receptionist explained with a small, amused smile. "Miss Becky sent them back. With notes."

Freen swallowed hard, fingers trembling as she reached for the first one.

Becky's handwriting stared back at her.

"I don't need gifts, p'fieeeen. I need you."

Her breath hitched. She reached for another.

"You're so annoying, do you know that? Stop sending things and send yourself instead."

Her lips wobbled as she opened the next.

"I'm still mad. But also, I miss you. But also, I'm mad. But also..."

Freen let out a broken laugh, shaking her head, wiping at her eyes as she read note after note.

Some were dramatic.

"Do you think a charm bracelet can replace your presence? Pfft. Try harder, sarocha Freen."

Some were softer.

"I know you're working hard. I know you're exhausted. I just... wish I was there to take care of you too."

Some nearly shattered her.

"Every night, I check my phone, hoping you'll call first. And every night I fell asleep waiting for it. I hate that we're missing each other like this."

Freen bit her lip, blinking rapidly as she clutched Becky's words against her chest.

She had never wanted to run away from anything as badly as she did right now.

Just buy a flight. Show up at Becky's door. Hold her. Kiss her. Apologize.

But she couldn't.

So she did the only thing she could.

She called.The phone barely rang twice before Becky picked up.

Silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken longing.

Then—

"Oh. Look who finally remembered I exist," Becky drawled, her voice carrying that unmistakable pout.

Freen sighed dramatically. "Wow. You wound me. I send you all those heartfelt messages, and this is how you treat me?"

Becky scoffed. "Oh, you mean those ridiculously expensive guilt gifts?"

"They were not guilt gifts!"

"Hmmm. Sure, Sarocha Freen. Whatever helps you sleep at night."

Freen groaned. "BecBec—"

Becky clicked her tongue. "You're lucky I even picked up this call. I was this close to ignoring you."

Freen grinned. "No, you weren't."

"Excuse me?"

"You missed me too much," Freen teased. "Admit it."

Becky huffed. "No."

"Baby, please."

"No."

"Just say you love me, and I'll send another gift."

"If I loved you—which I don't right now—I would not need a gift to say it," Becky shot back.

Freen laughed. "Okay, okay."

A pause.

Then, softer—

"I really did miss you," Becky murmured.

Freen's teasing smile melted. "I missed you too."

"You better make it up to me when you're back."

"Baby, I will spoil you."

Becky hummed. "How?"

"Dinner dates. Movie nights. Unlimited snuggles & kisses."

"And?"

"Back hugs. Holding hands. Carrying your bags when we go shopping."

"And?"

Freen grinned. "Secretly annoying you in public."

Becky groaned. "Ugh. Never mind. Stay in there."

Freen laughed. "Okay, fine. I'll shut up now."

"Good."

A beat.

"You still there?" Becky asked, her voice quieter now.

Freen exhaled. "I'm here, baby."

"Hmm."

Another pause.

"You better hold me all night when you get back." becky said in a breaking hush tone.

"I'll never let go," Freen promised, voice thick with something unspoken, something heavy.

Becky exhaled, a slow breath that Freen wished she could feel against her skin instead of just hearing through the phone.

"Good."

A pause.

A pause long enough for the ache to settle deeper into their bones.

"Baby?" Freen's voice was quieter now, almost hesitant.

"Yeah?"

"Did you just cry?"

Becky scoffed, wiping her tears away. "Excuse me?"

Freen smiled, sensing the pout even through the distance. "I'm asking because I know you did."

Becky huffed. "Bold of you to assume."

"Not an assumption, baby. I know you."

Another pause. This time, Becky didn't respond immediately.

Then, softer—

"Maybe."

Freen closed her eyes. That single word was enough to send a fresh wave of guilt crashing over her.

"I hate this," she murmured. "I hate being away from you."

"Then why did you leave?"

Freen sighed, running a hand through her hair. "You know why."

"I do." Becky's voice was still soft, but there was an edge to it now. "But that doesn't mean I have to like it."

Freen swallowed. "I'd come back right now if I could."

"Would you?"

"Baby—"

"Would you really?" Becky challenged. "Because if I told you to get on a flight right now, would you do it?"

Freen's breath caught.

Because the truth? She would. She'd drop everything, walk out of the damn interviews, leave the flashing cameras and red carpets behind just to be with Becky.

But she couldn't.

Becky knew that.

So when Freen didn't answer immediately, Becky let out a bitter laugh.

"That's what I thought."

Freen's heart clenched. "Baby, don't do this."

"Do what?"

"Make me feel worse than I already do."

Becky was silent for a moment, and then, just when Freen thought she had pushed too far—

"Good."

Freen blinked. "Huh?"

Becky sniffed dramatically. "You should suffer a little."

Freen let out a laugh, a breathy, relieved sound. "You're evil."

"You love me."

"I do."

Becky sighed again, but this time, it was softer. "I love you too, my moodeng."

Freen smiled, even though her chest still ached. "Did you at least like the gifts?"

Becky hummed. "They were okay."

"Okay?" Freen gasped. "Excuse me, ma'am, I handpicked every single one!"

"Yeah, yeah."

"Did you even open them properly?"

Becky smirked. "Oh, I did. Then I sent them all back."

Freen groaned. "Bec—"

"You know what I wanted."

Freen softened. "I know."

Silence stretched between them again, but this time, it wasn't heavy. It was filled.

"What are you doing now?" Becky tried to change the topic, never wanted freen to feel bad about it all.

"Lying in bed, thinking about you."

"Oh?"

Freen smirked. "Yeah. Imagining how you'd be curled up against me right now."

Becky hummed. "Sounds nice."

"It is nice. I miss it. I miss you." Freen said with pout.

Becky sighed dramatically. "I bet you're all comfortable in that stupid oversized shirt that I gave back because it didn't smell like you anymore."

Freen grinned. "How do you know I'm wearing it?"

"Because I know you." Becky's voice dipped into something softer, something teasing. "And because if I was there, I'd be stealing it back."

"You wouldn't need to steal it. I'd just take it off for you."

Silence.

Freen felt the way Becky's breath hitched, even through the phone.

"Shameless," Becky whispered.

"Only for you."

"Mmm." Becky let the sound drag, and Freen nearly groaned.

"Baby—"

"You should sleep," Becky interrupted, voice suddenly saccharine sweet. "You have a busy day tomorrow, don't you?"

Freen let out a strangled laugh. "Oh, now you care about my schedule?"

"Of course." Becky's smirk was evident in her voice. "Wouldn't want you messing up your precious interviews."

Freen exhaled. "God, you're impossible."

"And yet you love me."

"More than anything."

Becky's teasing faded into something warmer. "I know."

A pause.

Freen closed her eyes, let herself breathe in the sound of Becky's steady breathing on the other end. "Stay on the phone with me?"

Becky hummed. "Of course, babe."

"Switch to video," Freen murmured, her voice low and laced with longing.

Becky scoffed, though her lips twitched. "Oh? So now you finally miss my pretty face? Took you long enough."

Freen let out a soft chuckle, the sound husky. "I always miss your pretty face, baby. But I thought you were asleep and wouldn't pick up if I called directly... so I went for audio first. But now that you're here—please, hurry."

A beat passed. Then the screen lit up.

There she was. Becky. Curled beneath a blanket like a sulking kitten, her hair adorably messy, pout on full display. Her cheeks were faintly flushed, and wrapped snugly around her neck was Freen's scarf.

Freen's breath caught. "God... you're beautiful."

Becky raised a brow, unimpressed. "Flattery? Really?"

Freen grinned. "Also—are you ever planning to take that scarf off? I swear, you've been wearing it since your birthday."

Becky clutched the scarf protectively, narrowing her eyes. "Never. This is the closest I get to having you with me. Me pulling it off means you're in serious trouble, Freen Sarocha."

Freen grinned. "Trouble? What trouble? I'm just a poor girlfriend, desperately in love with her angry little baby."

Becky narrowed her eyes. "Little?"

Freen smirked. "Tiny, actually. So small. So cute."

Becky huffed, shifting on her bed. "I hate you."

"No, you don't."

Becky shot her a glare. "I do."

"Then why are you staring at me like you wanna kiss me?"

Becky immediately looked away. "Shut up."

Freen laughed, her heart swelling at the way Becky's ears turned pink. "Baby, just admit it. You miss me so much it hurts, huh?"

Becky pursed her lips, refusing to answer.

Freen leaned closer to her screen, lowering her voice. "I know you, My BecBec."

A silence stretched between them, thick with the weight of everything left unsaid.

Then Becky exhaled sharply. "I hate that you're not here."

Freen softened. "Me too, baby."

Becky stared at her, eyes flickering across Freen's face as if memorizing every detail.

"If you were here, what would you do?" Becky asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Freen's gaze darkened. "Right now?"

Becky swallowed. "Yeah."

Freen leaned back against her pillows, a slow smirk forming. "First, I'd pull you onto my lap."

Becky blinked. "Bold of you to assume I'd let you."

Freen chuckled. "Oh, you'd let me. You love it too much."

Becky sucked in a sharp breath. "Cocky much?"

"Confident," Freen corrected. "And then I'd run my hands down your back, pulling you closer—"

Becky shifted under her blanket. "Hmm."

Freen's voice dropped lower. "And I'd kiss you so slowly you'd forget all about being mad at me."

Becky bit her lip. "Sounds nice."

Freen's smirk deepened. "It would be. And then—"

A sharp inhale from Becky made Freen pause, her teasing stretching the silence between them like a taut thread.

"And then what?" Becky asked, voice softer now, laced with something neither of them dared name.

Freen hummed. "Then I'd let my fingers trail down your arms... slow, featherlight. Just enough to make you shiver."

Becky swallowed. "I don't shiver that easily."

Freen chuckled. "Oh, baby, you do. Especially when I—"

"Don't say it."

Freen grinned. "Say what?"

"You know what."

"Mm. You mean when I whisper in your ear, telling you exactly what I'd do if I were there?"

Becky's breath hitched. "You're enjoying this too much."

Freen tilted her head back against the pillow, her voice husky through the speaker. "I'm just making up for lost time."

Becky exhaled, a little shaky. "Then make it count."

Freen stilled for a beat, then smirked, putting the phone on standby, freen sit back giving becky her full view. "Show me how much you miss me, baby."Freen's voice dropped an octave. "Put the phone down somewhere. I want to see you properly."Becky hesitated, but the quiet authority in Freen's tone made her heart stutter. With a small, defiant huff, she propped her phone against a pillow. "Happy?"

Freen's gaze darkened as she took her in—messy hair, flushed cheeks, the way her fingers fidgeted slightly against the covers. "Come closer."

Becky arched a brow but leaned in.

Freen smirked. "Good girl."

Becky's breath hitched, her fingers tightening in her lap. "Stop that."

"Stop what?"

"That voice. That tone."

Freen chuckled. "You love that tone."

Becky bit her lip, trying to maintain her glare, but the way Freen was looking at her—like she was right there, like the miles between them didn't exist—made her stomach flip.

"Close your eyes," Freen murmured.

Becky hesitated.

"Trust me."

A slow breath. Then, Becky let her lashes flutter shut.

"Good," Freen whispered. "Now... imagine I'm there. Sitting right in front of you."

Becky exhaled shakily.

"My hands on your waist."

Becky's fingers twitched against the sheets.

"Pulling you closer."

Her breathing stuttered.

"My lips at your ear, whispering how much I missed you."

Becky swallowed hard. "Freen..."

Freen smiled, voice warm, coaxing. "Touch yourself for me. Like how I do when I hold you tight when I'm above you"

Becky obeyed, fingertips brushing over her waist, the phantom weight of Freen's touch making her shiver.

"Now go deep and feel the weight of my hand above yours and ruin yourself with right pressure and urgency the way I do."

A shaky breath.

"Good girl," Freen praised softly.

Becky bit her lip and order back freen with horsy voice "I want to see you, show me what's mine"

"Freen quickly dumb her shirt & shorts" and gave becky her best view with mirroring her moves with becky.

Becky inhaled sharply, but she didn't fight it. With mystic dark eyes Becky unblinkingly stares at her screen like her life depends on it. She let Freen's voice guide her, let her words sink deep beneath her skin. And when the teasing faded into something softer, something heavier, Becky felt her body hum with warmth, she rolled her eyes almost to the point of closing them, deported to another world.

At some point, her brows furrowed, a quiet whimper slipping past her lips. "Freen—"

"I know, baby," Freen whispered, eyes dark with satisfaction. "Let go."

And Becky did.

A long silence stretched between them, nothing but the sound of their breathing filling the call.

Freen smirked, watching the way Becky's shoulders relaxed, the way her lips parted as she tried to catch her breath.

"Feeling better?" Freen murmured.

Becky groaned, covering her face. "I hate you."

Freen chuckled. "No, you don't."

"Shut up.""You love me."

Becky peeked through her fingers, cheeks still flushed. "Unfortunately."

Freen grinned. "Come here."

Becky frowned. "What?"

"Just... closer to the screen."

Becky rolled her eyes but leaned in.

Freen kissed the camera. "That's for you."

Becky groaned. "You're impossible."

Freen burst into laughter. "And you are so easy."

Becky grabbed a pillow and dramatically smacked her bed with it. "Ugh, I hate you!"

"Again, you really don't."

Becky whined. "Why am I in love with such a menace?"

Freen only grinned. "Because I make your heart race, baby."

Becky rolled her eyes but didn't deny it.

They stayed like that for a while, teasing, smiling, pretending the distance wasn't suffocating.

And then, Becky yawned.

Freen softened immediately. "Sleepy?"

"No."

"Liar."

Becky blinked drowsily at the screen, fighting sleep. "I don't wanna hang up yet."

Freen's heart clenched. "Then don't. Just sleep, baby. I'll be right here."

Becky hummed, her voice small. "Promise?"

"Promise."

And just like that, Becky's eyes fluttered shut.

Freen watched, completely mesmerized.

Even through a screen, Becky was breathtaking.

Her lips slightly parted. Her breathing is slow and even.

Freen reached out, tracing the outline of Becky's face on the screen with her fingertip. "God, I love you."

Minutes passed. Maybe hours.

Freen kept watching, her own exhaustion creeping in.

And just before her phone battery finally gave up—just before the screen went black—

She whispered one last time, "Sweet dreams, baby."

And so, they slept together—without sleeping together.

🎶 Time won't fly, it's like I'm paralyzed by it

I'd like to be my old self again But I'm still tryin' to find it

After plaid shirt days and nights when you made me your own

Now you mail back my things and I walk home alone

But you keep my old scarf from that very first week

'Cause it reminds you of innocence and it smells like me

You can't get rid of it'

Cause you remember it all too well, yeah...... 🎶

P.S. AND YOU.......Stop blushing, It's creepy ;)