Chapter Text
Bangkok International Airport - Arrivals Hall
The automatic glass doors slid open, letting in a wave of humid, golden morning air. Freen stepped out first, her suitcase rolling behind her, the airport's white light glinting off her silver carry-on. Becca followed, eyes scanning the crowd just beyond the barricades. Behind them trailed Heng, pushing the cart loaded with two heavy suitcases and one impossibly tiny car seat carrier. Nestled inside, wrapped in soft cream blankets with his knitted bunny beanie on, lay Kamon, two months old and already a seasoned traveler.
Nam, walking slowly beside Heng, had her arm looped gently through his. She looked tired but proud, face glowing even beneath her travel-worn skin. The baby slept, unfazed by the loudspeaker announcements and the rolling luggage wheels all around him.
And then—
The cheering.
"FREEN!!"
"BECCAAA!"
"NAM!! HENG!!!"
"WHERE'S MY NEPHEW?!"
The crowd rushed forward — well, as fast as the airport security allowed.
Jasmine was the first to break through, her arms thrown wide. Her cap sat backwards on her head, a paper "Welcome Home" sign folded awkwardly in one hand. She launched herself at Freen, who caught her with a squeal.
"You're here, oh my god you're really here!"
Freen laughed into her best friend's shoulder, overcome with relief. "Of course we are, you maniac. We missed you."
"Where's our ballerina angelll?" Becca called out with a grin, looking behind Jasmine.
"Resting at home! She's sick!" Jasmine shouted back. "She didn't want to infect Kamon!"
Becca nodded with a playful pout. "Awww, poor Nat. I'll hug her back to health later."
Jasmine just rolled her eyes with a smile.
Next came Freen's parents — her mother pulling her into a firm embrace, her father behind her with quiet pride in his eyes. Her grandma held a small jasmine flower garland in her hands and looped it gently around Freen's neck, her lips pressing to her forehead. Becca watched, heart full, before she was pulled into the next round of hugs from her own parents. Her mom looked misty-eyed. Her dad clapped her shoulder and whispered, "So proud of you, kid."
Behind them, Richie, Caleb, and Matteo stood hand-in-hand. Caleb waved excitedly when he caught sight of Nam and Heng.
"P'Nam, do you have the baby?!"
"YES," Nam said with a hoarse laugh, gesturing toward the carrier. "Your cousin is right here."
Caleb immediately peered over the edge of the carrier, Matteo holding his arm protectively. Heng smiled, standing proudly as he gently uncovered the baby's face.
"Everyone... meet Kamon."
Cameras clicked. Phones came out. A thousand coos echoed from all directions. Even Heng's older brother, the usually stoic man, leaned over the baby's carrier with a faint tear in his eye.
Meanwhile, Jasmine threw her arms around Nam from the side, careful not to disturb her.
"You did it. You actually did it. You're a mom."
"I am," Nam whispered, holding her tighter. "And you're his most dramatic auntie."
Jasmine laughed, already crying again.
The group, now one massive, buzzing hive of love and reunion, slowly began to migrate toward the parking lot — Nam's parents leading the way to the van they'd rented, ready to take all the luggage. Everyone insisted on helping. Even baby Kamon's diaper bag had two volunteers.
Before they left the terminal, Freen's hand brushed against Becca's. Their fingers intertwined instinctively.
"We're home," Becca whispered, squeezing.
"We are," Freen nodded, eyes soft, "and this time... it's for good."
Behind them, Kamon let out a tiny sneeze. Everyone stopped for a moment.
"Bless you!" the entire crowd chorused in unison.
And with that, the group laughed their way out of the airport — a dozen lives from across the world now converging into one future, under the Bangkok sun.
Bangkok – Becca's Family Home, Early Evening
The clatter of shoes at the entrance was the first sign the house was full again. Laughter spilled from the hallway as everyone poured into the spacious, warmly lit dining room. The long table had already been set: plates stacked neatly, water glasses gleaming under the lights, and the air so thick with the aroma of Thai spices and slow-cooked goodness it felt like a hug.
Becca's mom beamed proudly from the kitchen doorway, apron tied around her waist, hair pinned up but loose strands framing her soft, familiar smile.
"Come, come! Sit down! Everyone's tired and starving, no?"
Freen's eyes widened at the spread: at least six dishes lined the table, from stir-fried vegetables and seafood tom yum to grilled chicken skewers and sticky rice in banana leaves. But one dish stood at the center — creamy crab curry in a clay pot, bright yellow and steaming.
"This one," Becca's mom announced proudly, pointing to the pot, "is made especially for my daughter-in-law. My second daughter."
Freen's face broke out into a huge smile, ear to ear. Becca, right beside her, groaned and slapped her palm over her face.
"Mom," Becca whined, "you have to keep the 'in-law' part in the sentence. You made it sound like we're sisters, that's not the vibe we're going for."
The room burst into laughter.
"Aish, picky picky," her mom teased, patting Freen on the shoulder with a wink. "She's still yours, and now she's ours too. That's all that matters."
Freen was pink all over, beaming as she took her seat and scooped a generous spoonful of the curry into her bowl.
"It's perfect, Mae," she mumbled, eyes sparkling. "I missed this so much."
"We missed you," Becca's mom said softly, taking her seat next to her husband, who nodded in agreement.
Across the table, Freen's mom and dad joined in, beaming with pride. Her mom reached over to tuck a strand of Freen's hair behind her ear.
"My little traveler. You've grown so much... and yet you still eat like a kid who hasn't been fed in weeks."
Freen playfully swatted her mom's hand away, chewing furiously.
"Don't judge me, Ma. I've been eating frozen muffins and airport food for two days."
Everyone laughed again.
Jasmine, seated right beside Freen and Becca, leaned in on her elbows, a bright grin stretching her face.
"I missed you guys soooo muuuuch. You have no idea. You left a giant friendship-shaped hole in my life and it was tragic."
Freen looked at her, deadpan. "Oh, we do have an idea, pookie. You called us every single day telling us how much you missed us. Sometimes twice a day. It was aggressively cheesy."
Becca gasped, hiding her laugh as she nudged Freen's leg under the table with her knee.
"Babe," she hissed, "stop."
Freen only smirked, eyes twinkling as she shoveled rice into her mouth.
Becca turned to Jasmine, more earnest now. "We missed you too, Jas. So much. I don't think I breathed properly until I saw you waving your dumb sign at the airport."
Jasmine clutched her heart, faux-tearful. "That might be the nicest thing you've ever said to me."
Caleb piped up from beside Richie at the far end of the table.
"I'm just here for the food but I agree with Jasmine. This feels like one big family reunion."
Richie clinked his glass against his. "To chosen family."
"To family," Freen echoed, lifting her spoon.
Everyone raised their glasses or utensils, or whatever was in hand. A toast was unnecessary — the comfort in the room said it all.
As the dinner unfolded with chatter and gentle chaos, stories from Canada spilled out between bites. Jasmine updated them on Natalie's slow recovery and how she caught the cold from someone at work, most likely. Freen made a note to bake something for her. Becca promised a double date as soon as possible.
Tonight, the house glowed with warmth, laughter, and the certainty of this: their new chapter had already begun.
. . . .
Next Morning – Bangkok
Sunlight was barely filtering in through the gauzy curtains of Becca's childhood bedroom. The walls still had remnants of old posters and hand-painted doodles she swore she'd remove one day, but secretly loved too much to touch. She blinked her eyes open, instinctively reaching to her left — but found only pillows and the familiar quilt her mom insisted on keeping.
A beat later, her phone buzzed.
Babe 🐰❤️ : you up?
Becca smiled instantly, warmth curling up in her chest. She tapped the FaceTime icon before even replying.
The screen filled with Freen's face almost immediately — lying sideways on her bed, hair a soft mess, her voice raspy with sleep.
Freen: "Good morning, baby."
Becca: (yawning like a kitten) "Morning, babe."
Freen melted on the spot, clutching her pillow. "You can't just do that to me, you know. Be that cute when you're far away."
Becca smirked, stretching like a cat, her voice still drowsy.
Becca: "I missed you."
Freen: "I missed you more. So weird falling asleep without your hands on my waist. Or your little feet hooking over mine like velcro."
Becca: "Yeah well, I missed your hands on my boobs and your breath on my neck, so."
Freen: (groaning) "Rebecca!"
Becca giggled like a gremlin, proud of herself.
Freen: "You're evil."
They shared a moment of silent smiling, the screen glitching slightly but never interrupting the feeling.
Freen: "Alright. What's on our adventure list today?"
Becca: "Eight houses total. But we divided it into two per day so we don't lose our minds. First two are around the Ari district. They looked promising."
Freen: "Oh yeah, the second one had that open kitchen I liked, remember?"
Becca: "Mhm. And after that... two bakeries to tour. One's near BTS Phrom Phong, and the other's in this up-and-coming area Natalie said is full of young professionals and has great foot traffic."
Freen's face lit up.
Freen: "Let's do it. Bakery empire loading."
Becca: "Beckfreen Bakes?"
Freen: "Freenbecky."
Becca: "Uh, I'm literally the barista goddess. I deserve top billing."
Freen: "Yeah well, I'm the one who knows how to make a raspberry matcha croissant with my eyes closed."
Becca: "We'll workshop the name."
They both giggled, feeling the buzz of something exciting again.
Freen: (softening) "I'm just... really happy we're doing this. For real. For us."
Becca: "Me too, babe."
They smiled at each other, quiet, full of promise. The morning was still sleepy, but their hearts were wide awake.
Freen: "Okay. Go shower, eat, dress hot. I'll pick you up in 45?"
Becca: "I'll be hotter than the Thai sun."
Freen: "Yum. Love you. Bye."
Becca: "Love you more."
- Click. -
...
Late Morning — Bangkok Suburbs
The air was already humid by the time Freen's little rental car pulled into the driveway of the first house on their list — a cozy modern property in a quiet neighborhood in Ari, tucked between narrow leafy streets and a noodle stall that smelled suspiciously divine.
Freen parked the car, reached over to squeeze Becca's hand.
"Ready, wifey?"
Becca smirked, replying, "Let's see if this one screams home or help."
They got out, still in the honeymoon high of being reunited with Thailand — Becca in sneakers and a linen shirt tucked into flowy shorts, Freen with her camera bag slung over one shoulder, already in house-inspection mode.
The agent greeted them and gave them a quick intro before unlocking the front gate.
House 1/8
It was charming, no doubt about it.
Two stories. Big glass windows. A tiny side garden. A cute wooden porch Freen immediately imagined decorating with plants and fairy lights.
Inside, it had three bedrooms, polished concrete floors, and a kitchen that made Becca gasp.
"Oh my god. This island... Freen. I could bake an army's worth of cookies here."
Freen nodded, adding, "And look at this lighting. If this isn't cinnamon-roll-shooting lighting I don't know what is."
In the back, they stepped into a tiny but manageable backyard. Becca walked barefoot onto the grass.
"Do you think... it's big enough for like... a trampoline?"
Freen smiled, raising a brow, "For the kids or for you?"
"Both."
They stood in silence for a second. The kind that said we could really do this.
Then Freen whispered:
"I can see us here. Can you?"
Becca nodded, smiling. "Yeah. This one's a maybe. A really big maybe."
House 2/8
The second house was sleeker. High ceilings. Dark wood paneling. A home office space that made Becca's finance brain light up — but the kitchen?
"Babe, where's the oven? That thing looks like a microwave in disguise."
"Well, this place is clearly built for influencers who meal prep and order takeout."
Still, the living room had floor-to-ceiling windows with a direct view of Bangkok's skyline. The master bedroom? Divine. But the vibe?
Just off.
They stepped outside after the showing and sat on the front steps, taking in the view.
"Okay. Stunning. But it feels like it'd be too clean. Like... too fancy for morning pancakes in pajamas."
"Right? Like we'd be scared to spill juice on the floor."
"Back to House One being in the lead?"
"House One is top, for now. This one's for CEOs and their Instagram cats."
Back in the Rental Car
Becca reclined the seat, sipping from the matcha Freen had bought her earlier.
Freen turned to Bec, "Okay, babe, should we head to the bakery numero uno now? I'm buzzing from adrenaline and that god-tier green curry we had at lunch."
"Your brain runs on curry and caffeine."
"And love. Don't forget love."
Becca laughed and leaned across the console to kiss her softly.
"Let's go find our bakery then, love-powered brain."
"Onward."
Bakery 1/6
The first location was a narrow shophouse, nestled between a vintage bookstore and a hair salon. From the outside, it had charm — faded brick walls, a tiny overhang with an old, rusty bell over the door. But once inside...
Becca squinted, her nose crunching as she spoke, "Babe... this place smells like... mop water and disappointment."
Freen snorted, "I'm pretty sure the counter has termites."
The floor creaked with every step, and the air was thick — no airflow, no lighting, and no real kitchen space.
Still, Freen wandered behind the counter, crouching where the display case would be.
"I mean... if we bulldoze everything, gut the walls, redo the floors, replace the entire electrical system—"
"So basically build it from scratch."
"Exactly!"
They both laughed, already shaking their heads.
"On the bright side, the bookshop next door is cute."
"Great. We can sell cookies to depressed literature students."
They left with a polite wave to the agent and a shared glance of definitely not this one.
Bakery 2/6
This one was much better — wide corner windows letting sunlight pour in, a fresh coat of white paint, tiled floors, and even a small backyard that could be turned into a terrace seating area.
Freen spinned, a small smile on her face, "Okay, now this... this has potential."
Becca nodded, "Look at this counter space. It's like... made for you. You could do cookie demos here."
"You mean we could do demos together. Don't forget you're the face of the bakery."
"Am I just the pretty barista wife to your oven goddess?"
"Yes. And you wear it well."
They laughed, checking every corner. There was an upstairs area too — two small rooms and a restroom.
"We could turn this into an office-slash-content studio."
Freen: "A bakery-slash-business empire. I like it."
The rent was a bit on the higher end, but they noted it down as a top contender.
As they stood outside in the fading sun, Freen quietly took Becca's hand.
"Can you picture us here? Morning rushes. You pulling espressos. Me yelling about overbaking muffins."
"I already smell the burnt ones."
"I'm serious, Bec. This could be our place. Like really ours."
"Let's sleep on it. But... yeah. I think I can see it."
They shared a soft kiss in front of the glass door, just as a breeze swept past, carrying the smell of someone grilling satay down the block.
.. . . .
Natalie's Apartment - 8:04 pm
The door swings open after just two knocks, revealing Jasmine in a loose tee and bike shorts. She blinks at the sight of her best friends standing outside with tote bags, snacks peeking out.
"You guys look like you've been through five lifetimes."
"Only two. One for house hunting, one for bakery scouting."
Becca grinned, "And yet... we come bearing gifts. For our favorite ballerina-boxer-singer."
"Multi-talented menace of our hearts," Freen adds.
From inside her room, Natalie's voice floats out.
"Are you being dramatic about me again? I can hear everything, you know."
The girls walk in with laughs, slipping off their shoes. The apartment is softly lit, cozy, and minimalist — white walls, pale oak accents, a faint citrus diffuser scent in the air. Hidden in a few nooks: photo booth strips of Jasmine and Natalie; family pics; a scribbled sticky note that reads "you got this, baby – J" stuck to a mirror.
Natalie emerges from her bedroom in a grey sweatsuit, her hair tied in a loose bun, looking better but still a little pale.
"Oh my god. You're here." Natalie says as she opens her arms for hugs, "Come here before I cry."
Freen walks into her arms without hesitation, nearly squeezing the breath out of her.
"Don't cry. You'll get me started, and then Bec's going to have to carry an emotionally unstable lesbian home."
Becca moves to hug Natalie next, "I'm ready. I did arm day this week."
They all chuckle. Natalie sniffles but smiles.
"I missed you both. So much. How was the flight?"
"Smooth, except the part where Kamon pooped his pants and it was all smelly in our area."
Freen chuckled, "Oh yeah, that was bad."
Jasmine appears with four glasses of iced water, handing them out like a host that's trying not to look too pleased.
They all settle in the living room. Becca and Freen slump dramatically into the couch, Natalie curling up beside Jasmine on the opposite end. The vibe feels whole again — like the puzzle pieces had just clicked back into place.
They giggle and catch up — from house updates to work drama, to Natalie being nursed back to life by Jasmine with soup and Vicks VapoRub.
Eventually, Jasmine reaches for her phone and takes a candid photo of the four of them — a quiet smile stretching across her face as she looks at it.
"I'm posting this with the caption: The dream team is finally in one city again. Watch out, Bangkok."
.. . . .
The city lights blur past as Freen drives through the quieter Bangkok streets. Becca lounges in the passenger seat, her hand resting on Freen's thigh, fingers tracing lazy circles through the fabric of her sweatpants. Billie's newest album hums through the speakers.
Becca glances at Freen, smiling, "Babe... just come sleep at ours tonight. You know my parents don't mind having you there."
"I know, baby. But why don't you come to our place? My parents don't mind either — you basically have a room there at this point."
"Hmm..." Becca says as she stretches out in her seat, "Okay, okay. Let's just rock-paper-scissors it. I don't even care, honestly. As long as I'm with you."
Freen chuckled, "You think we're getting too dependent on each other?"
"Nahhh. Don't be dramatic. I just need your scent all around me to be able to sleep. That's totally normal, babe."
"Oh my god." Freen laughed.
They pause at a red light. Without another word, they both lift their fists.
"Rock... paper... scissors!"
Freen's hand stays closed in a rock. Becca's cross into scissors.
Freen smiles smugly, "Gotcha."
They arrive at Freen's family's house a few minutes later. The porch light glows warm, casting long shadows as they step out of the car, laughing and bickering lightly.
As they enter the house quietly, trying not to wake anyone—
Freen's dad appears from the living room with a glass of water in hand, wearing his classic pajamas and a sleepy smile.
"Back home late, huh?"
"Yeah, we were visiting Natalie. She's been sick." Freen answers.
"She's doing better now, though. We just wanted to check in on her quickly." Becca adds.
"Ah okay, good. You two want some tea?"
"No, thank you!" they both said, like twins, so in sync.
He chuckles.
"Alright. Goodnight then, kiddos."
"Goodnight, Pa."
They pad upstairs hand in hand, shoes off, steps quiet on the wood floor. Inside Freen's room, the bed is freshly made — light sheets, soft lighting, and the faint smell of lemongrass diffused from the corner.
Becca yawns, stretching, "Your room always smells like a spa."
Freen pulls her toward the bathroom, "Spa first, cuddles after. Come on."
Becca grins, "Best deal I've ever made."
..
Steam curled against the fogged glass as warm water cascaded over their bodies. They washed each other, taking turns. Freen stood behind Becca, her hands gliding slowly along Becca's arms and shoulders, lathering soap with practiced, tender ease. Becca leaned into the touch, her eyes closed, a soft hum of contentment escaping her lips.
Freen grinned and leaned in, her mouth brushing Becca's ear.
"Makes sense your last name's Armstrong," she teased, giving one of Becca's arms a playful squeeze. "Look at these biceps. You could probably bench press me."
Becca smirked. "You say that like I haven't already."
"Mmm, good point," Freen murmured, laughter in her voice.
The water pattered on rhythmically as their quiet ritual continued — one of soft touches, shared warmth, and the kind of silence that speaks volumes.
Freen reached up and ran her fingers through Becca's damp hair, tilting her head gently under the stream. She began massaging shampoo into her scalp in slow, soothing circles. Becca's shoulders dropped further, her lips parting as she let out a sigh.
"Oh, god, babe... that feels so good..."Becca said, accidentally letting out a small, pleasured moan.
The sound made Freen smile against her skin.
"You know... I love, when you make that sound," she whispered, pressing a kiss to Becca's shoulder blade, then lower, the tip of her nose brushing along her spine.
Becca shivered, melting back into her. Her arm reached back to pull Freen even closer around her waist, their bodies warm and pressed together beneath the falling water.
Freen kept kissing her — soft trails up her neck, across her shoulder, and to the top of her back. Her hands splayed gently across Becca's taut stomach.
Becca's voice was strained now, barely a whisper. "Babe... you have to—stop—your parents..."
"Shhh..." Freen murmured. "Just try to be quiet." She kept kissing her, "I've missed you too much to stop now."
Becca laughed softly, her head tipping back. "You know I'm not quiet with this stuff..." She groaned, and even that was a little too loud.
Freen chuckled into her skin. "Yeah, I know."
Becca turned quickly in Freen's arms, their fronts now pressing together, her hands flat against Freen's chest, kissing her rough and slow. Their breaths tangled, warm and quick. Becca stopped the kiss abruptly, leaning her forehead on Freen's.
"Seriously. I'm gonna get us both exposed."
Freen ignored that, pulling her back in for a kiss, hungry, greedy, tongue and all. Her right hand sneaking down and down achingly.
"Babe," Becca whispered breathless against her lips, pulling bare inches away.
"Hm?"
"If we're going to do this..." She kissed her again, lingering this time, her smile curling mid-kiss. "I better turn on the bathroom fan. So it can, you know—muffle the sounds."
Freen raised a brow, clearly impressed. "Smart girl."
She slipped away briefly, stepping out into the cool air just long enough to flip the switch. The soft hum of the fan filled the room... and with it, a brand new kind of silence.
When she turned back, her gaze locked on Freen, standing beneath the hot stream of water, skin flushed, hair dripping, eyes dark with something molten and desperate.
Without a word, Becca stepped back into the heat, and Freen pulled her in like gravity.
..
The bedroom was dimly lit, the warm glow of Freen's childhood lamp casting golden arcs across the old posters and soft-colored walls. The fan in the corner hummed, lulling the quiet night along. The room smelled faintly of cinnamon from the candle and the lingering trace of coconut shea shampoo.
Under the light cotton sheets, Freen and Becca lay naked, skin to skin, a mess of bare limbs and tangled breath. Becca was curled into Freen's side, her cheek resting just beneath Freen's collarbone, an arm draped lazily across her stomach. Freen's hand moved slowly up and down her back, pausing every now and then to play with a strand of her hair.
"I don't want to move," Becca mumbled into her skin.
Freen chuckled, her voice low and scratchy from comfort. "Then don't."
Becca tilted her head, eyes half-lidded. "You're so comfy to cuddle, ugh."
Freen kissed her forehead, "I was born for you to cuddle with baby," and they stayed like that for a few minutes. Skin on skin. Breath syncing up.
Eventually, Becca stirred a little. "So, we've got two houses to see tomorrow, right?"
"Yep," Freen said, fingers now tracing the slope of Becca's bare hip. "That one with the rooftop garden you loved, and then the one with the big kitchen I loved."
Becca smiled. "You mean the one with the weird tile in the bathroom?"
Freen groaned dramatically. "Don't remind me. I'm hoping it looks better in person."
"And three bakeries after that," Becca continued. "One of them's in a really cute neighborhood. Lots of foot traffic. Good coffee shops are nearby too. Could be perfect."
Freen leaned down to kiss her. When they pulled apart, Becca rested her head back down and whispered, "I want the house with the rooftop terrace. Imagine sunsets up there. Reading a book. Your head on my lap. Our kids running up and down the stairs yelling about snacks."
Freen chuckled. "You're skipping several chapters, baby."
"But they're good chapters," Becca smiled. "I want to decorate every room together. Paint the walls in the middle of the night because we changed our minds. Argue over curtains. Make up by baking muffins."
"You mean me baking muffins while you sit on the counter and critique me," Freen teased.
Becca poked her side gently. "That's called quality control."
Freen laughed, turning onto her side to face her fully. She tucked a strand of hair behind Becca's ear and whispered, "You know what I'm really looking forward to?"
Becca hummed, "What?"
"Waking up with you in that house. Every day. Knowing it's ours. That we chose it. That everything inside was placed there with our hands. Even the ugly rug we end up compromising on."
Becca's eyes grew glassy for a moment. She leaned forward, nuzzling Freen's nose, then kissing it.
They lay quietly again, until Becca asked, "You applied to that modeling agency P'Nam recommended, right?"
"Yeah. Sent everything in this morning," Freen said. "She said the woman who runs it is really hands-on and loves versatile portfolios. So fingers crossed."
Becca pulled back slightly to look at her. "They'd be lucky to have you."
Freen smiled, brushing a strand of hair behind Becca's ear. "Thanks, babe."
A pause.
"After we find the house," Freen murmured, "and open bank accounts, and start the new jobs... what do you think about getting a puppy?"
Becca perked up instantly. "Yes. A hundred percent yes. Maybe two."
Freen's eyes sparkled. "Two?"
"One each," Becca said confidently. "So they don't get lonely. Or so we don't."
They laughed, warm and safe in the space only they belonged to.
Freen rolled onto her back and pulled Becca halfway on top of her, hugging her tight with both arms. "I love you," she murmured into her hair.
Becca kissed the space just above Freen's heart. "I love you more."
They lay there in a warm silence, caught between planning the future and savoring the present.
Eventually, Becca whispered, "Promise we'll always dream together like this?"
Freen kissed the top of her head, her voice quiet but certain. "Always."
___________________
thank you for reading <3