#0nebatch

In the Meme Vault

I meant to tell you something earlier, but I didn't get the chance. That's all. What was it? It doesn't really matter anymore. It matters. I mean it. I want to know.

Molly gaze danced between his, seeking truth in those dark eyes that had never told her anything but the truth as long as she'd known him. Maybe it did matter, in the moment, but in the grand scheme of things? Maybe it was because they were at a friend's wedding, seeing what should have played out for them a while back. So many emotions, they hung in the air like a thick perfume. But if she would ever have the courage to look him in the face and say the words, I still love you, it would be now--

She was startled as the door behind them swung open, and while it was only the bride's aunt exiting the women's room and not the woman they both expected, Molly was quickly brought crashing back down to earth. Eventually his date would return to his side. The woman that seemed his perfect match, with her angelic face and sweet voice and kind words and her stupid, perfect smile...

It really didn't matter, in the grand scheme. He'd already moved on.

In the Meme Vault

"Hm?" The distracted hum was the only response so far, as Molly had yet to look up from her book. Something apparently had seemed important enough to mark, as she'd uncapped a pen with her teeth and circled a passage on the page. What could she say, medieval weaponry was a fascinating read.

"Hm?" She hummed again, and glanced up at him in an effort to bring understanding to what he'd said--it had sounded like a mumble, in all honesty, but it didn't feel like he'd appreciate having to repeat himself. Have...Eaten...

In the Meme Vault

She couldn't help the goofy smile, one that no doubt filtered into her tone as she replied, "I miss you too, big guy." The calls were rare, and growing even more so as the end of his deployment neared. Molly did her best to keep from being too worried about him--hell, if anybody would survive and come home, it would be Frank. He was way too stubborn for any other outcome. And that was fine, he could be a stubborn ass...just as long as he came home to her.

MISTLETOE!

For one of the most populated place in the world, the sheer number of mutual friends they apparently had had been staggering. They'd affectionately dubbed themselves The Group--which, as Molly had stated, sounded a lot more like a sad 90's boy band than a gathering of marines and miscreants. It seemed like a no-brainer to gather for the holidays and spread a little cheer, and admittedly, she was more than a little excited about the prospect of seeing Frank again.

They spent a decent amount of time with one another, but it had always been in the company of The Group, even if they did find themselves wandering off on their own at some point in the night. Tonight, there simply hadn't been time to do so; enough people and enough to do to keep their attentions elsewhere.

That was, until the mistletoe.

He'd handed her a drink as he lingered in the doorway of the kitchen--something that was a little more booze than eggnog--and as she lingered nearby, the mistletoe was pointed out with a touch more zeal than necessary. Trust her brother to seize the moment. With a giddy, inebriated round of chanting kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss--Molly leaned up to press a chaste kiss to his lips. The intent had been a chaste kiss, anyway, but lingered a touch too long, her fingers curling lightly into his shirt.

Escaping the palace had proved to be merely the first hurdle in what was turning out to be a long and near-torturous journey. She’d counted herself lucky to have had some element of awareness; the instinct to watch her back and not grow too comfortable with her surroundings simply because they were gilded with gold and velvet. Molly had hardly even begun to change into her nightgown when the attack began; apparently the king had already decided he didn’t wish to be married, after all.

Some wedding night.

The escape had been a blur, her mind and body riding high on adrenaline, pushing for survival. Here, she could trust no one. She simply needed to make it to her home borders--there she would be safe. Even with the crack of thunder above her and the rain softening the ground underfoot, she pushed on. When she spotted the hut in the distance, Molly didn’t even consider the potential for danger...it couldn’t be any worse than what she’d faced before. She nearly stumbled into the door, banging on it with renewed vigor

In the Meme Vault

It was the most she'd heard the man speak since she'd met him, and she can't help but arch a dark brow at him. If she didn't know any better, she'd think that he knew just how loud her mind had been getting...and was offering her a life line. Something else to focus on in the meantime, until it was once again quiet. Or something.

"Didn't peg you for much of a talker." Molly replied, bringing her knees under her chin. The tv's on mute as she hadn't wanted to wake him, but she'd needed the light, the motion to help distract herself; provide some comfort in something familiar when everything else was strange and had gone to hell.

@0nebatch​ said :  ❛  ready for round two?  ❜

In the Meme Vault

She could do without that tone, thank you very much, but somehow she suspected that the onslaught of snark was just beginning. Out of the frying pan and into the I told you so's. Molly leaned into him regardless, trying to keep from hissing as they took one step after another, and more so as they took the back way in. Which wasn't so much of a back entrance as it was a damn squeaky fire escape and a window that liked to stick.