Mini convinces Franky to do a lot of things she's never really thought she'd do, from things like licking whipped cream off of someone else to things like actually watching 'romantic comedies.' (Franky's still not convinced the name fits.) This morning, her task is to lay still in bed while Mini just looks at her - since she ruined it by waking up. It's difficult, both being looked at it and Mini keeps touching her (innocently) in ticklish spots. And also Mini keeps asking about her scars, and she just can't find the words. Mini understands, every time she shakes her head, and kisses at whichever one, but it's still frustrating. She comes up with something, though, by mid afternoon, and then she has to wait til Mini's fast asleep to do it. She doesn't know where the idea came from, and it seems silly on rethink, but she does it anyways. She drags her table lamp over, so she's got just enough light to write, and then rolls Mini over on to her stomach. (Thankfully, she's a deep sleeper.) She bites at the end of the pen while she thinks of where to start, and then, carefully, starts writing. Skin, as it turns out, is an imperfect canvas, but she finishes and takes down her camera, adjusting so that the words will come out able to be read. It takes a few shots before she has ones she likes (it just wasn't possible to fit it all, readably, in one shot) and she spends the rest of the night developing them, and then attaching them together and, finally, laying them on the other side of Mini so she'll see it when she wakes up. She can't manage to talk about it, she doesn't want to see that look on Mini's face, but she does trust her, and she wants to make sure Mini knows that.
