Though Molly rarely indulges the sentimental side of himself, he’s touched by her words nonetheless; a soft huff of amusement allowed as he spares her a dry sort of smile. “Sappy,” He chides, “though I – I mean. Thank you.” Awkward despite himself when forced to express genuine emotion; though, he does his best. You ground me, he thinks pointedly at his best friend, you make me feel whole. Unspoken gratitude exchanged in the form of his shoulder bumping against hers. Similarly to Astrea, he’s unacquainted with such an easy sort of fondness; raised to believe that the right to feelings are earned. Praise only extended if something impressive is preformed. Which, in Molly’s case, was rare in the eyes of his father; his mother a free thinking women, though she was often too involved in her own circumstances. It’s refreshing, he supposes, to know how Astrea feels. The words, “plus you’re annoying, so maybe that will snap my mom out of it,” bringing the two back into familiar territory. And Molly rolls his eyes fondly, the packed bags nudged in Astrea’s direction for approval. He snorts. “Your mother couldn’t get enough of me if she tried,” He drawls in return, “– But, maybe our combined antics will satisfy her need for attention.” Inwardly, he begins plotting; Molly’s sense for the dramatic second to none. “Even if going blind is a little extreme … how could she possibly gaze upon my face if such a terrible event were to occur? Bet she hasn’t thought of that.” With that, he lifts his shoulder in a shrug; a playful smirk pulling onto his lips. “Worse comes to worse, I read to her from one of those trashy romance novels and she makes me her new husband. Problem solved – she’ll never bother you again.”
finding no verbal response, astrea decides to stick her tongue out at him. it’s her default that she’s taken with her from childhood. “shut up, you looooove me,” she says, puckering up her lips and making a move towards his cheek. she shakes her head and smiles, though it’s directed at the counter. molly can’t possibly know that he’s made her laugh. the nudge on her shoulder is fully welcomed. it’s an unspoken gesture, but astrea knows what he means. me too. in astrea’s family, it is better to be seen and not heard. unless you were mrs. abernathy, then by all means the louder you were the better. it took a long time for astrea to come out of her shell, her childhood marked by silent reading time and the quiet game until she met molly. astrea remembers the day she met molly very well. he was tall and he talked a lot. intimidating but nice. she looks at him now and doesn’t understand why she was so afraid of him in the beginning. astrea examines the bags, knowing more or less that her mother would not care of their contents-- but it was the thought that counted. “you’re practically twins, i hate it” she says. astrea and her mother could never connect the way mothers and daughters should. it appeared astrea was more interested in ancient mummies than middle school boys. she snorts, shaking her head. “as soon as she sees you, she’ll claim that she can see. it’ll be a miracle. twenty bucks, i’m telling you.” astrea picks up a bag or two and sighs. “yeah but the problem with that is that you’ll be my step dad.” she visibly shudders. “and no one wants that.”
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