The chain around her neck glimmered faintly as sunlight brushed it. Freen adjusted it, caught her own reflection again — suit perfectly fitted, heart not at all calm.
She let out a nervous laugh.
“Look at you, hopeless.”
A beat.
Then softer, smiling shyly at the mirror —
“Hopelessly hers.”
Her fingers rested unconsciously over her chest — over the rhythm she could never control around one girl.
She sat on her bed, blazer draped on the chair, hair falling naturally over her shoulders as she looked toward her phone lying untouched on the table.
She whispered like a confession no one else deserved to hear,
“I miss her already.”
Her own words surprised her. She covered her face, groaning.
“Freen Sarocha Champak, pull yourself together.”
A pause. A breath. And then the truth, soft and certain:
“I just… want this to be perfect.”
The room didn’t answer, but somehow it felt like it agreed.
Outside, day moved on normally. Inside, a soul waited — dressed in hope and slow-burn anticipation.
Freen leaned her head back, whispering one last promise into the quiet air:
“Tonight… Is the night.”
Other side
Before the birds could even consider singing, Becky Armstrong was already wide awake — eyes open, heart beating like she was running a marathon in her dreams.
Why?
Because today… today was the day she had a date with Freen Sarocha Champak.
Not just any date.
A first date.
A breath-stopping, heart-doing-cartwheels, feels-like-the-universe-scripted-this kind of date.
Becky sat up, hair resembling a beautiful but confused baby lion, whispering to herself,
“Okay Becky. Don’t panic.”
Then she immediately panicked.
“OH GOD, I HAVE NOTHING TO WEAR.”
She launched out of bed like someone set an alarm in her bones.
Closet doors flew open. Hangers rattled. Clothes began forming a carpet of chaos on the floor.
First outfit?
Black dress, sleek and elegant.
She wore it, looked in the mirror.
“What if she thinks I’m… too intense?!”
Dress: Rejected.
Second outfit:
Oversized hoodie + denim shorts. Cute. Comfort.
She twirled.
“…What if she thinks I didn’t put effort?”
Thrown on the bed.
Third outfit: girly and floral. She gasped.
“No. Too soft. She’ll think I’m trying to be someone else.”
Fourth outfit: jeans and a blazer.
She frowned.
“No. This says ‘I’m going to a group project meeting.’”
Fifth outfit: crop top + skirt.
She checked herself again.
YOU ARE READING
When Love Crashed In
FanfictionFreen was supposed to confess. Becky was supposed to be hers. But one unexpected "yes" at the wrong time, in the wrong place, to the wrong person breaks everything, they never admitted out loud. Now, the air is thick with silence, the group chat i...
Just Let Them Date, Universe!
Start from the beginning
