dear old world,

Tears well in Metzli's eyes, still wide, but now Molly is blurred and they can feel something thick building in their throat. They treat to speak, to say anything at this point. Eventually, they're able to rasp something out, though it resembles nothing close to words. It's more like a relieved sigh accompanied by a chokey cough.

Squeezing their eyes shut, Metzli attemps to sway their tears away, successfully able to see Molly clearly when they open again. A smile slowly grows on their face and they manage a quiet, "I love you, Molly," in response to her proclamation. It feels easier to say it that time around, and they sink into Molly's touch as if she was gravity pulling them in.

No one has ever loved Metzli. No one has ever stuck around long enough to try. They never let them. For a long time, Metzli figured it was supposed to be that way. They decided a long time ago that they were better off alone, fending off the tragedy they'd been born in so that it was never wholly who they are. A long time ago, Metzli was alone. But that certainly isn't the case now.

"Come here." They sigh, picking up the passion again without hesitation, carefully pushing Molly back against the wall. Their hands fall back into place, moving with more purpose than before. A button unlatches and while one hand keeps Molly secure, the other slips between flesh and waistband, while they whisper once again, "I love you," against her lips.

#a good story to tell * thread #thread * metzli #nsfw

Molly's thumb travels to the near corner of their eye and gently brushes it against their face to wipe away a tear just before they shut their eyes tightly in an effort to wish tears away.

Molly's never really known a moment as intimate as this, and certainly hasn't known a moment this intimate that she's initiated. Though it's still a work in progress, she's learned more than she thought about her marriage over the last year in therapy. There were times when she was happy, and at the same time, this was so totally different. The passion was unmatched.

It was invigorating, the feeling of Metzli's touch against her most sensitive skin. She inhales sharply as fingers dance beneath fabric. Her eyes roll back and another groan leaves her parted lips, breath heavy. She then tilts her head to lean it against theirs and one of her hands moves to rest atop their shoulder - fingers clutching in response to movement elsewhere. Her other hand wanders south again, easily slipping beneath denim. "And I love you." She whispers. Who knew saying that could feel this nice...

At her touch, Metzli's stomach leaps and they gasp quietly, letting their hands trace around her chest. When she says their name, they stiffen, slowing their movements in case she needs them to. "Yeah?" They say breathlessly, ears perking when they hear the next part.

Their throat constricts and the room feels like the gravity is shifting. Love is a powerful thing, but because they've felt it before, Metzli has remained uncertain when or if they were allowed to say it. There is a stark difference between dreams and reality, and for a long time, Metzli only knew how to live in another world.

Then, Molly finishes her sentence, and everything snapped back. It isn't time yet, if it exists at all. And that's okay. For Molly, Metzli isn't afraid to wait. They know where they stand, especially now, with their lips painting paths around Molly's flesh while they take a risqué adventure in a bar.

So Metzli chuckles and bites gently, steadily increasing the pressure as their hands massage Molly's chest. All the while, they're smiling and humming happily, enjoying the sounds produced. Before it gets painful, they release their bite and lean slightly back to get a good look at their girlfriend, gaze gentle and cheeks flushed.

"You're beautiful." Metzli breathes, crashing their lips against Molly's again. In between a breath, they take pause, hearing their heart speak out without themself fully intending on saying anything else. "I love you." When they realize what they've said, Metzli freezes, wide-eyed and confused. "Um," They take a step back, scrubbing their face. "Sorry. I'm sorry. That's...fast." If Molly is saying anything, they can't hear. Everything is covered by the sound of their heart hammering.

Molly lets out a groan, her voice deep as they gently bite against her skin. It's a new sensation and she fears she won't be able to get enough. Combined with the feeling of their hands against her chest, she might as well be floating. There's a current moving through her body as she presses against them.

It feels like her heart stops when her eyes open momentarily to catch them looking back at her. Their face is flushed and Molly's certain hers is too. Her honey brown eyes stare back at them, wanting to dive into their own and get lost in the abyss.

She kisses them back hard, her grip tightening as if it's even possible. Again, she hums against their lips and the sound nearly distracts her from their words. Was that...?

When they freeze and abruptly pull away, Molly's eyes fly open and stare back. Her heart is hammering in her ears and she's sure her hands are trembling against them. She was sure she'd run them off by saying what they just had. She knew Metzli cared greatly for her and perhaps she'd known for a bit but to hear it aloud, to hear shared feelings announced like this, on top of all of the other thoughts Molly was having right now, it was just a lot.

It'd be a lot to sift through - to process. But for now, she was confident in how she was feeling and if Metzli was brave enough to express it, so was she. "I love you, too." She replies, hands now reaching for their face, hands attempting to bring them back by cradling their cheeks. "I've..." She starts, gaze wavering for just a moment, averting to the floor before meeting their own again. "I've been wanting to say that. For a while now." Admitting that feels like freedom. "I love you, Metzli."

Metzli barely plants their empty glass on the bar when they hear Molly call for their attention. They turn around, puzzled. "Everything oka...oh." A blush is visibly dusting across Molly's cheeks, and a desire in her eyes that they've only seen a few times, and only in the privacy of their homes.

There's a commotion in their stomach, but Metzli lets their girlfriend lead them somewhere else without question. At first, they think she's just stealing them away for just a quick makeout in the hallway. Which, they have no complaints about that. Metzli just didn't expect to be pulled into a bathroom for added security.

Again, no complaints. In fact, they returned her passion and acted on the desires they had repressed out front. Metzli's hands roamed freely, nails digging in softly and grip tightening at Molly's sides to keep her close to them as they push her against the wall. Slowly, their hands inch upward, slipping under Molly's top until their their fingertips graze the underwire of her bra. Their lungs ache eventually and they have to force themself to pull back to breathe.

"I..." Metzli whispers, trailing their lips up and down Molly's neck. They swallowed thickly, feeling something on the tip of their tongue, but they lose all resolve and settle for, "Can't believe you're mine."

#a good story to tell * thread #thread * metzli #nsfw #just in case!

Molly uses the wall behind her to stabilize herself. The fingers from one hand sink into their hair, gently pulling their face closer to her. The other hand roams down Metzli's body - leaving its perch on the back of their neck to trail down the front of their chest overtop their shirt. It stops at the hem of the cutoff shirt, clutching the fabric.

As their touch meets her skin beneath her shirt she gasps softly and fully exhales as they pull away, as if coming up for air. There's a hunger growing within her, one that's been building for some time now. Molly's been afraid of giving in and it's had nothing to do with Metzli, and everything at the same time. They're incredible in her eyes.

Over the course of their time together, she's fallen hard and fast, and that's not something she ever expected. She figured finding someone after such a great heartbreak would take forever. Molly never expected to want to give everything to someone so soon after meeting. But with Metzli, she felt as if she had known them her whole life. And she wanted to continue to know them for the rest.

The alcohol and preceding conversation had been like tossing gasoline on a fire of desire, but weeks of intentional and meaningful get-to-know-you interaction had been the coals burning hot.

"Metzli," She whispers as their lips break from hers. She feels goosebumps rise across her skin and she tils her head back as they trail down her neck. Her palm, still gripping the hem of their shirt, now presses against the front of their waist, clutching exposed skin. "I," Fuck. "I lo-" She's stumbling over words. The thought is there, the knowledge is there. She's just too afraid to say it, "I love when you kiss me there."

"Oh yeah?" Metzli grins at the information, plotting and whispering into Molly's ear. "In public? How scandalous." They're already plotting on how to get away, even while knowing they'll likely be too chicken. Grace interrupts, and Metzli clears their throat while they fight the tipsy urge to trail their hand elsewhere.

They think they should really have some water next if they're misbehaving so much with only a few drinks. It's a good thing there's quite a bit to talk about. Metzli needs the distractions.

"I don't mind hearing about him." They steal a glance at Molly and make soothing patterns on her side, keeping her close. "She's lived a whole life before me, and honestly, his bullshit only happened a few years ago. It's gonna take some time to process fully." And if Metzli is a part of that, then so be it. They're more than happy to play a role in Molly's healing.

Kissing the top of her head, they smile and finish their drink with a pleasant sigh. "I have to refill and chug some water," Metzli reluctantly lets go of Molly and starts moving toward the bar. "But when I get back, please give me some great childhood stories, yeah?"

Molly had told Grace that she'd tried to keep mention of Roger to a minimum with Metzli, at least so far. When he did come up, they seemed to be understanding so it in no way had anything to do with them. She just didn't want to sad, or like she was caught up.

But as they speak, and rub their hand along her side, she watches their face and can't help but feel butterflies in her stomach. Something about what they're saying, they're so understanding Molly can hardly believe it. Not that she had expected to find someone, and especially not so soon (if you considered roughly 3 years later soon after something), but she figured they wouldn't want to know much. Metzli was too good to her.

She's speechless at their reply and it isn't until they're talking about going for some water that her mouth and brain are finally catching up with each other. Molly glances at Grace as Metzli heads towards the bar and Grace shrugs a shoulder, a coy smile forming across her lips. It only takes a split second for Molly to down the rest of her drink and hand the empty glass to her sister.

As Metzli approaches the bar, she catches up to them and reaches for their hand, fingers intertwining with theirs. "Hey," She says quietly, cheeks flushed from an equal combination of the alcohol and pure excitement.

Amelia Hiatt has never done what she's about to do, but something about them, about how they feel about her, what they had said... It just inspired her, she figures. "Come here." She'd promise to let them get some water in just a minute, she just wanted to try something first. Eagerly, she guides them down the hallway toward the restrooms. She had never in her life made out with anyone in a bathroom at a bar, but just like a lot of things with Metzli, Molly couldn't help herself.

After confirming it was unoccupied, Molly pushed open the door and led them in behind her. She barely checked the lock behind them before standing on her tiptoes to better aid in crashing her lips against theirs.

In their time knowing Molly, Metzli's confidence has risen far more than expected. Their usual hoodies were set aside for their outing. Instead, Metzli is sporting a cap sleeve cropped tee, with just a hint of their belly exposed. So it appears both of them are showing a little more skin for the night.

"I know how much you like my arms." They jokingly flexed their tricep with a snicker, putting their drink down on a table to free up their hand. Gently, they poked a cold finger at the center of her clavicles, whispering, "Maybe give me a show later too, yeah?"

It isn't entirely a joke, but Metzli's tone sure sounds like it. Their eyes on the other hand? Well, they're a little hungry. "Hey, I thought you were cute at work. Guess I'm just a sucker for librarians."

They're distracted when Grace makes her return, grinning when they turn to welcome her back. They give Molly a quick, "Of course," and a peck in reply to her gratitude, raising their glass. "And what did you expect?" With the alcohol in Metzli's system, they're a little more loose, teasing and joking more easily than normal. Molly will surely notice, but they know she'll understand and likely offer a water for their next drink.

"I do like your arms, a lot." She says. Her fingers gently brush across their forearm and her eyes dance farther up. It was a view worth admiring. As they joke about her offering a show her pulse quickens, the touch of their fingertip lingering long after they've removed it. Oh if Grace weren't here she'd abandon these drinks so fast.

Instead she slowly lets out a breathy exhale. "Grace did mention she's prepared to be alone tonight." God, she had to shove down another thought daring to push through to the surface. Molly hadn't flirted with someone in a bar in... well, a really long time. Early in their marriage Roger was all about showing off a little in public. But they had unfortunately fallen victim to the classic honeymoon phase curse. After about two years, Roger's limit in public was holding her hand. So this attention was kind of rocking her world.

Molly raises her own glass, and eyes Grace carefully before taking a long sip of her drink, housing a good quarter of it. It seemed like such a simple question and it should've required a simple response. But Grace wasn't normal and she was Roger's biggest hater. "Well, I'll admit, you've clearly been making my sister happy so I wasn't hopeless." She explains before bringing her own glass to her lips for a sip. When she finishes, she inhales slowly and returns Molly's glance before looking back at Metzli. "But as you know, my sister was married to a Grade A asshole for too long, so I had to keep my optimism in check until seeing you in the flesh."

Molly couldn't even say anything because Grace wasn't wrong. "And I promised I wouldn't bring him up too much, and I won't, I swear." She looks at Molly again, who's just grinning at her sister as she clutches her glass. "He just unfortunately put the bar of expectation under the ground and I was a little worried about her judgement, sorry Mols-" Grace reaches out and gently places a loving hand on her arm but quickly pulls back and can't help but eye the couple and grin. "But you seem much better and I think I have to apologize for doubting both of you." Not that she had doubted Metzli but even Molly knew Grace was concerned for her older sister. It was hard not to be when she was one of the first people to see that look of devastation in her eyes when Molly told her what he'd done.

Without meaning to, Metzli hovers their face just a breath away, eyes tracing Molly's features. In a blink. they lengthen the distance, sipping their drink. The coolness eases them back into their surroundings, where Grace is saying something Metzli nearly misses.

"It's good to meet you too." They smile cooly, shaking Grace's hand. It's only when Metzli makes contact that they realize their hands are a little clammy from their nerves, and it takes some effort to not grimace from embarrassment. The last thing they wanted was for their girlfriend's sister to think they were making rude faces at her.

"I've heard a lot about you, too." Metzli chuckles, pulling their hand away and wrapping it back around Molly's waist. "She didn't tell you how I almost ran her over, did she?" Their thumb brushes idly against the fabric of Molly's outfit, hand shifting to rub up and down her side.

Metzli didn't even realize they were doing it. They just need something to busy their hands when they're anxious. Lucky for them though, Molly gets them a moment to breathe, and they take a deep inhale when Grace disappears to grab drinks. Metzli isn't nearly as strong as Molly, and they dive in for a deep kiss while her sister is turned away.

"Look, as long as you stay close to me, you can throw anything at me. All a part of the package, right?" Metzli grins, forehead pressed to Molly's for brief second before pulling away. They didn't want to embarrass her too much. "You look wonderful, by the way."

Molly hums softly against Metzli's lips as they pull her close. She had been anxious about this evening all day but it was clear that perhaps she had nothing to worry about. Grace had already made it clear from what Molly had told her about them that she was supportive of her sister. She'd been pushing her to get back out there when she was ready. Molly just didn't want Metzli to worry.

She's grateful for their continued touch as lips fall away from one another. "Exactly right." She whispers, eyes closing for just a second as if to drink in the moment. The bar is abuzz with the usual activity but for a few moments Molly feels like it's just the two of them.

Finally, she opens her eyes again just as Metzli is pulling their forehead away. And she's blushing at their compliment. "Thank you," She says softly, "You do, too." And they did. She was sure she couldn't tire of looking at them. "Grace made me put on a little fashion show before we left the house. She vetoed by first top." Molly laughs, "Said I looked like I was going to work." Which, Molly kind of did. Not that she minded her high neck, button up blouses, she loved them! Grace had always teased her about them. It was all good fun but the black lace tank was much more suitable for tonight.

A couple of seconds later, Grace returned with two margaritas; salt on rim for herself and none for Molly. A playful smirk was plastered across her lips. First, she looked to Molly as she handed her the drink. "I tried to buy you a drink but it seems someone offered to pick up our drinks for the night.." As she speaks she throws a glance at Metzli. Molly smiles sweetly at them and bites her lip before taking a sip. "Thank you." She says quietly, and Grace raises her glass to them. "Cheers," she begins, "To you, Metzli, for already being so much better than I had expected." Not that she doubted them, but her sister didn't exactly have a good track record when it came to choosing partners.

When Molly told Metzli that her sister would be in town, they only mildly panicked. Meeting new people is a cause for nerves alone, but meeting someone who means so much to someone they are dating feels like a whole new level.

So much so that Metzli arrived to the Velvet Stag a whole half hour before the agreed upon time. In that time, they have had three drinks. As a heavy drinker, all it's done is calm their nerves. Their belly is warm and their inhibitions are lowered enough for Metzli to relax while they wait for their girlfriend and her sister to arrive.

"Can I have a margarita?" Metzli requests a drink frkm the bartender and sits back in their stool. "No salt on the rim please." Then they perk up when they remember something. "Oh, and keep my tab opened. Two ladies will be here in a moment, and they'll be on my table too."

Metzli smiles sweetly, a tinge of anxiety weighing their lips enough to make them lopsided. Then, the bell chimes when the door to the bar opens, and they stiffen. For a moment, they keep still, unable to move until they take a deep breath.

Turning around, Metzli offers their best smile and clears their throat. As always, Molly's beauty strikes them. She's wearing her usual light tones and silhouette that accents her frame perfectly. They're of course in their usual button down and jeans, not feeling like much until she looks at them with eyes that are sparkling. Metzli smiles a little bigger then, finally mustering the courage to greet both Molly and Grace. "Hey," They breathe, pulling Molly in for a quick kiss. "Good to see you. Both of you."

Grace steps to the side as Metzli pulls Molly in. Molly leans up and presses her lips against theirs, not wanting to pull away. She wouldn't if they were alone, but she quickly remembers Grace standing there. "It's good to see you." She tells them before turning to introduce her sister.

"Metzli, this is Grace..." Grace wastes no time as she starts to extend her arm for a hug but catches sight of Molly's face at the last second and offers a handshake instead. It wasn't that Molly didn't want Grace hugging them, she just didn't want them to feel like they had to hug her. "I'm so happy to finally meet you, Molly hasn't been able to shut up about you since she first mentioned she was seeing someone." The blonde explains, looking up at them. The Hiatt girls weren't short but of the three of them right now, Grace was the shortest at 5'7. "Which, I don't think she realizes she did let something slip weeks before she actually told me. It wasn't hard to piece together. She was blushing about a coffee date with 'someone from the library' and I just knew."

"Wow, okay, thank you, Grace." Molly says, cutting her sister off. "I would really love a drink right now." She tells her, eyeing Metzli's margarita. "A margarita, actually. Would you mind getting our drinks?" Grace just grins before turning on her heels and heading to the bar.

With her sister gone, Molly turns to Metzli again, fighting the urge to pull them in for another kiss. There would be plenty of time for that this evening. Instead, she takes their hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. "Thank you," She says, "For agreeing to meet us. Grace practically screamed when I finally invited her. She can be a lot, and you can let her know that. Hopefully she'll calm down as the night goes on."

location: the velvet stag status: closed w/ @errantesadas

"Molly, I can't believe that you moved to a town with only one bar!" Grace calls from the bathroom. She had finally managed to invite her sister, after a bit of encouragement from Metzli, and a push from Grace threatening to show up unannounced in the middle of a night. The thing is, Molly wouldn't put it past her. Grace would've done just that, and would've probably figured out how to get her way into the house. Grace steamrolled through roadblocks put up by her sister.

"The restaurant scene isn't exactly robust, either. But I really like it." Molly says from the bed. She had been flipping through one of the fashion magazines Grace had brought along. For the longest time her sister had wanted to design clothes. She used to tell all of her friends that she'd design for Fashion Week one day. That day had yet to come, but she had recently accepted an admission offer from the only university in Tennessee that offered a design based apparel program, and the best part was that she didn't have to leave home. "I do miss those tacos, though. And maybe the wine bars."

Grace laughs and the sound bounces off the bathroom walls. Molly flips another page, an article about another 90's trend coming back stronger than ever staring back at her. Then Grace heads back to the bedroom, cosmetic bag in hand. She had her straight, shoulder-length blonde hair braided, a few stray strands framing her face. Her makeup was simple but the neutral shades complimented her skin nicely. She had opted for jeans and plain black t-shirt after her long day of travel.

"You look nice." Molly compliments her sister as she slides off the bed. Molly had gone for a neutral look herself, with the exception of a rep lip. It had been a long time since she had whipped out the lipstick, and Grace knew it too. "You too!" Her sister replied, blue eyes burning a hole through Molly's features. "I see the lip is back." She teases, "And I'm glad it is. It's a look that suites you, and Roger's a dick for saying otherwise."

For a moment, Molly's breath catches. That wasn't a moment she wanted to revisit right now and she must've shown it on her face because Grace immediately reaches out, placing a hand on her arm. "I'm sorry." She says, catching Molly's eyes. "For upsetting you. But it is true." Grace was her biggest ally in the divorce, and probably her biggest cheerleader for tonight.

Molly took one last glance of herself in the mirror. She had gone for jeans as well, ones that were ripped along one knee and ripped along her other thigh. After having her button up blouse vetoed by Grace, she ended up with a black tank with lace trim that tastefully framed her cleavage and a cream colored cardigan. Grace was a pretty great wing woman. Molly did look nice. She was sure Metzli was going to lose it and that thought made her blush.

She finally texts Metzli, letting them know that the sisters were heading to The Velvet Stag. A part of her was nervous as hell - this was a huge step. It was a step that Molly wanted to take, she wanted them to meet Grace and Grace was dying to meet them. But it didn't make it less nerve-wracking. And Molly was worried about Grace being a little much, despite how much she adored her sister. She was different from Molly and was a lot for some people.

Grace was practically bouncing with energy as they arrived to the bar. "This is so cute!" She squeals. Grace had been much younger when the family lived in Vermont and had proceeded to spend most of her life in Nashville. Small towns were nearly fictional to her, like something out of a Hallmark movie. So the Springs were no exception. Molly's thankful for Grace's nervous excitement though as it allows her to distract from her own nerves. And if she felt this way she could only imagine how Metzli was feeling right now.

"Okay," She stops her sister before entering the building. "I love you so much, and I cannot wait for you to meet Metzli." She tells her, "And I'd really love it if you didn't-" "What, you think I'm going to scare them off?" Grace cuts her off. "Overwhelm them." Molly finishes. She gives Grace one more long stare before the blonde pulls away, grinning at her sister. "Let's go!"

As they step through the door, Molly's gaze finds Metzli's almost immediately, as if pulled by an invisible string. A smile stretches across her lips and she leads Grace by the hand across the bar. "Oh my god.." She hears Grace whisper as they approach. "Damn, Molly!" Molly can only throw her sister a look before catching Metzli's eyes. "Hi." She greets, nearly holding breath as if to say a little prayer for the night.

Metzli's eyes wander without them meaning to, and it takes a lot of effort for them to tear their gaze away from her chest. They chuckle bashfully and slow their breathing while inching their hand up towards a new destination. Molly cuts them off though, and their hand trickles back down to her lower back.

"Amelia?" Metzli parrots, adding a flair of their accent to her name. "Next you're going to tell me you have a middle name, and all the journal stories are true!" They're snickering to themself now, rolling their eyes at their stupid joke.

"Well, guess it's only fair I tell you my middle name is Valeria." Metzli never liked the middle name, but it was theirs and in the need to keep things balanced, they want to let Molly know. Especially if she had one too.

Taking a breath, Metzli returns to what they were doing before, trailing up Molly's spine delicately. "So, Amelia Middle Name Hiatt, I'm yours."

She hums happily at the sound of her full first name on their lips - she could listen to that all day. It fades into a quiet chuckle at their joke and she can't help but roll her eyes in return. But in no time they're trained back on them. And she's wishing their hand hadn't been pulled away.

"Metzli Valeria..." Molly repeats quietly. It's intimate, sharing names. And intimacy had always been something Molly had been kind of scared of, despite being no stranger to it. She'd spent her whole life hearing stories and learning more about others through her work at various theatres. But it was one thing to hear someone else's stories. And another to share your own.

She wasn't very good at the latter, and Roger never wanted to get caught up in the details, unless they were about him, of course. And sure, when someone would ask how they met he'd share his usual spiel about his beautiful and doting wife. But no one ever asked Molly for her version of the story.

Until she met Metzli. In a way, she'd felt intimate with them from the moment they had met. There was no mask to hide behind, no adoring wife role to play. She was just herself, and they wanted to know more. And she loved that.

"Amelia Pearl..." She whispers. A family name. Pretty as a pearl, her grandmother would say in a deep southern drawl, and follow with a wink because she was the one with the name too. "And I love the sound of that." She tells them before crashing her lips to theirs once more, hands roaming; fingertips brushing softly against their skin, memorizing every line and curve.

Metzli's breath hitches and their stomach leaps at Molly's touch. They hum and take her movements as a yes, slipping Molly's shirt away. A sigh escapes them at the increase in warmth, hands taking the opportunity to roam and enjoy each curve of her flesh.

At the Molly's silence, their head gets a little dizzy. All the emotions and sensations makes everything swim, but they take a few deep breaths to center themself. Though it isn't much use because Molly is proclaiming her desire for them. All of them.

That quiet in between Metzli's question and her answer wasn't hesitation, after all. Truthfully, they're not sure what it was, but it suddenly doesn't matter anymore because Metzli has the one thing they've always wanted. A place to belong.

"I'm yours," Metzli breathes, rolling the both of them over. They rest half on their side and half on Molly, holding her close while they try to not let the commotion in their stomach shake them too much. "I'm yours," They repeat, more shakily than before but with a full smile. "Molly Hiatt."

Goosebumps cascade across her skin as their hands travel the curves of her body. Their touch is gentle but intentional. It's always as if they're trying to remember or take note of what they're exploring. And Molly can't get enough of it.

As they respond she exhales against their lips, breath shaky. And suddenly they're rolling, Molly now resting half against the bed. All she can do is smile back at Metzli, eyes locking with their own. She feels another rush and for a moment thinks she might have to remind herself to breathe. They're breathtaking.

"You know," She says, words soft as she has to center herself as to not sound as though she's out of breath. She's still clutching against their lower abdomen. The hand that had been on their cheek now brushes a stray curl away from their forehead. "Molly isn't exactly my first name." It hadn't occurred to her talk about her real first name. Everyone called her Molly and they had done so since she could remember. It was a name her parents had used since she was a child and it just kind of stuck.

"I mean, it is my name, I go by it. But I guess it's just technically a nickname." If they were going to call her amor, she thought she might give them access to her government name, too. "My first name is actually Amelia." She explains. Maybe it was silly, but the name tastes odd rolling off her tongue. Her mother and Roger had really been the only ones to use it over the last decade, even Molly's dad had favored her shorter nickname. But she wanted Metzli to know it, to know that they could use it too. She figured it was another way of sharing more of her story.

Metzli's brows cinch together as the two of them kiss. Not from discomfort, or uncertainty, or even fear. Mostly, it's just confusion. Thankfully, their body moves without a hiccup.

No one had ever wanted Metzli, and in return, no one wanted to be theirs. It never mattered what the context was. Any proximity was too much Or startles Metzli to see such a stark difference in the way Molly longs for them now and how they were constantly dismissed all those years ago.

"Do you..." Metzli begins breathlessly, slipping Molly's shirt up and waiting for her to make the next move as they ask, "Do you want me to be yours?"

If she asks, or if she proclaims it, Metzli knows there won't be any hesitation on their part. They're pretty sure they were Molly's the moment they met in the library, but they didn't want to sound foolish in case Molly doesn't feel the same.

"I..." They trail off again like a coward. A lost one. Dreams aren't the easiest to form into reality, and knowing how desperate they are, Metzli keeps themself from stepping off a precipice they know they won't be able to return to.

So they busy their breath and their lips, and ready their hands at the hem of Molly's shirt while their lips crashed together. Metzli may be sinking, but it feels more like a float. They wonder if they're going to crash, or if Molly will shift the gravity around them.

With one hand still glued to their face, Molly's other hand travels down to their waist, fingers finding skin beneath the fabric of their own shirt.

It's not until after Metzli poses the question that Molly realizes that she's never been asked this before - been asked if someone wanted to be hers in return. It shouldn't seem like a big deal, she had always thought it was assumed in her previous relationship but the gravity of it all settles around her.

Sure, Molly had been wanted and there was a time when she felt the same about her ex-husband but it was never quite like this. Perhaps when they were teenagers and learning how to fall in love but as an adult, Molly truly couldn't recall a time when she last felt this way. And in a way that gutted her. She'd spent over half of her life with one person and had never experienced a high like this, an ache so deep within her. She was eventually going to wonder if Roger had ever felt the same, but there wasn't a trace of him within her mind right now.

"I-." She rasps between kisses, fingers clutching against their skin. To want someone and be wanted in return was like walking out of a dark forest to reveal an open meadow, guided by a soft breeze and illuminated by warm sunlight. They were all that mattered right now. The two of them together, tangled in bedsheets was all that mattered right now. "I do."

The last time she had uttered those words in response to a question even remotely similar to this one, she was twenty-two years old, standing in a room with one hundred other people looking right at her. That day had replayed in her mind so many times as she was packing her life away with tear stained cheeks and unanswered calls by prying minds. Now, she chose to see this as an opportunity to take back that moment for herself, for who wanted to be. "I do want you to be mine, Metzli Bernal."

By some miracle, it no longer matters how vacant their walls look. The sterile place they call a home feels warmer now, a hazy shade of pink coating the space with each kiss. "I..." Metzli starts to say something, but they stop themself short, too afraid to let the truth wring from their lips and down Molly's lungs. They hesitate, breath shaking and hands uncertain as roam.

"Molly?" Metzli gasps quietly, the question sounding a lot more like a confession they don't know how to articulate. They don't have enough experience in any sort of relationship.

Every time Metzli opens their mouth, nothing of substance comes out, their body attempting to pay the balance with their heart's motivation before it can give out under the pressure of their affliction. So they repeat Molly instead, "You don't have to be alone anymore either, amor." It feels so big to call her that, but it feels right. Everything about Molly feels right.

"I..." They trail off again, and by now it's embarrassing. Metzli's face grows flush and they close their eyes to deepen the kiss more than the first time around. They go so far as to pull Molly on top of them, sighing with relief at how much it grounds them.

Both their hands slip beneath her blouse, itching at the skin at her sides softly as they search for her answer. If they can give her a few lovely moments before they sink, Metzli feels like they won't look like such a disappointment. Or so broken.

The sound of Molly's name echoes as her heart hammers in her ears. Molly knows they're speaking in short breaths, short words interrupted by lips crashing together. Molly's heart is fighting to push other senses out of the driver's seat. Emotions and longings and dreams are tangling together, knotting in impossible ways.

When their words finally cut through the rush, amor rolling off their tongue, Molly can't help but move with their motions, gently rolling herself atop them. Her hands grip the sides of their face now, lips finding theirs again in the break between words.

Her skin is buzzing beneath their touch, feeling as though a fire is raging, trying to bust through the walls that are her skin. "Metzli..." she mutters against their lips in return.

In all of her years of loving someone, of giving herself to the only person she thought she'd ever know, she never felt this kind of burn. She feels her clammy hands rest against their cheeks and wonders if Metzli can hear the sound of her own heart thrumming.

"I'm yours..." she mutters in the pause between kisses, inhaling like she's coming up for air after swimming a marathon. Her legs straddle their own lap now, chest still pressed firmly against their own. For now and forever almost slips out. Now that's far too much. Though Molly's letting her heart speak, there's a part of her that doesn't want to scare them off or make herself seem like a damn fool. She made that promise of forever once before. It might've felt different now, but she wasn't about to let that slip.

Swallowing, Metzli relaxes further into their bed. It's a cushion is somewhere between firm and soft, the perfect balance. They don't like sinking into a mattress, and they also don't like laying on stone, so when the option came up, Metzli jumped at the chance. But now they have someone else to think about when it comes to things like that. Molly doesn't seem to mind though.

"I'm glad I let you in, too." Metzli runs their hand up and down Molly's shoulder idly, "I'm still a little nervous, but this isn't so bad." They lean closer into her, pulling away only briefly to press a kiss to her temple before settling back into place.

"I've been alone a long time, Molly. I..." Metzli inhales deeply, running their hand down Molly's arm and down her side. They slip their hand beneath her shirt to rest it against the skin at the small of her back.

It's a habit they've had since they were a kid, always finding some way to press their skin against someone else’s. The warmth always brought them a sense of safety and comfort, and Metzli has a feeling it would do the same for Molly. Or, if anything, it would bring her comfort too.

"I need you closer," Metzli whispers against Molly's lips. They hesitate for a moment, unsure what to do at first. Then their heart acted for them, and they leaned in while pulling Molly flush against them for a kiss.

"I'm so nervous too." Molly admits quietly as Metzli shares their own. Every day she's convinced that she's going to mess things up. Every day she's navigating new feelings and trying to live her own story instead of someone else's. Up until the last two years she had fallen into a routine, a routine that had her mistaking comfort for being stuck in a rut.

Now, listening to Metzli's voice and feeling their touch against her skin has her head swimming. The feeling of their lips against her skin is electrifying. Goosebumps travel across her body as they rest their hand in the small of her back and her breath hitches.

Molly pulls her body closer to theirs, she'd melt into them if she could. She rests her fingers against the back of their neck and the other palm against their bare chest. The contact with warm skin has her heart racing. There go her thoughts again.

As they bring their lips against her own she closes any gaps that may have lingered and kisses them back, not bothering to mask her ache for them. To know them as intimately as she has this far was a privilege in her eyes. After another moment, she pulls back but only enough to speak against their lips, afraid they'll disappear if she draws back any further. "You don't have to be alone anymore, Metzli."

As they sigh, Metzli finds themself relaxing more than they had expected to. Normally they would just shut their eyes and find some way to sleep, but despite their inability to feel much more than a few drifting emotions, Metzli settles comfortably. They pull Molly into them and find solace in now warm her skin is against theirs.

"That's really cheesy, but I think romance is inherently that way." They smile, and though it doesn't meet Metzli's eyes fully, there is a comfort in them. "I've never had a home, but I think you're supposed to be in it in some way. Or just a part of it."

Even if they don't work out in the type of love Metzli has always dreamed about, as long as Molly is around, they feel like they will be satisfied. Connection of any kind feels like a victory since they were alone up until their move. "Come here." Metzli waves Molly over, then adds, "If you want to." They continue to smile wanly, breathing deeply in a slow rhythm.

"You feeling okay?"

Molly can't help but smile as Metzli shares a similar sentiment to their new idea of home and it feels like the butterflies in her stomach are doing somersaults. This communication, as simple as it is, is something she was still getting used to. It was effortless in a way, for Molly to express how she felt about Metzli and her evolving wants and needs. This relationship had awakened things within her - things she had yet to full realize. She really liked it.

She shimmies her way over to them, allowing them to pull her closer, still facing them. She rests her head against theirs and smiles. It's a soft smile that spreads across her features and for a moment her eyes close slowly and she inhales as she drinks in the moment.

Another slow, simple moment that somehow means the world to her. "Yeah," Molly says, eyes opening to see them again. "I am feeling okay." She tells them. Really, she's better than okay. It's freeing in a way, sharing these intimate and tender moments with them. The moments aren't glamorous or particularly romantic but Molly finds solace in Metzli's mere presence.

"I'm glad you let me in today." She says, meaning it literally and emotionally. "It's scary, but I really like you and I mean it when I say that you don't have to be alone. Obviously, you can be alone if you want, but you're also worthy of the support." More than worthy in Molly's eyes. "You've been there for me, you may not have realized it, but you've been a big support to me in learning to open up to someone again, and I want to return the favor and be there for you as you need."

Metzli is taken aback when Molly voices her desire to stay. They know she isn't the type to just run off because things get hard, but it's uncomfortable to witness someone's lowest days. Is this when she runs?

"You sure?" Metzli looks back at Molly as they stand and stretch. "My living room is bad, but my room is...it's something else." They take a deep breath and blink a few times, eventually finding the courage to help her up from the couch with their head looking shamefully to the floor.

When they lead her to their room, Metzli doesn't bother to look at Molly, or to say any of the apologies resting in their throat. There doesn't seem to be a point in making excuses. Her seeing their lack of bedframe, the makeshift cardboard nightstand, and the small desk is inevitable. Worrying about it isn't going to do them any good.

So when they round the corner, shuffling their feet across the floorboards to reach their room, Metzli doesn't hesitate. They walk in as normally as they can, removing their shirt and head straight for their bed. "I...I know this is bad too." Metzli whispers, sliding into the cool sheets. "But uh...make yourself at home."

"I'm sure." Molly replies, accepting Metzli's hands as they help her rise from the couch. Molly was pretty sure she could walk into a dumpster with Metzli and still find a way to happiness. She had wasted no time filling her own home with personal touches and trinkets but she knew that wasn't the case for everyone.

As she follows Metzli to their bedroom her eyes on them the whole time. Their home is bare but Metzli is anything but that. Part of her is nervous that she's being overbearing by staying, or weird. But from her understanding, they've been alone for a lot of their life so far and Molly isn't about to give in. It's not in her character to walk away unless she's forced to.

It's not bad, actually - not at all. And she's not sure if she's saying it aloud or thinking silently to herself. Her eyes travel down their back momentarily as they slip out of their shirt and move across the room. But her eyes quickly meet the floor and she's screaming at herself to put those thoughts away. With her face towards the floor she shuts her eyes for a heartbeat to gather herself again. Finally, she looks back up, eyes scanning the room before landing on them again.

"It's not bad at all." She intentionally says aloud this time. Molly slips out of her shoes and heads to the bed to join them. The sheets are cool to touch and with Metzli before her the lack of furniture is the last thing on her mind. "You know, I think home for me here is starting to feel like anywhere as long as I'm with you." God, that sounded so fucking cheesy. Was that too cheesy? She meant it, regardless. The old Molly would apologize but she didn't want to because it was true. Instead, she slips under the covers across from them, laying on her side to face them. The more time she spent with Metzli, the more she appreciated the little things like sweet gestures and cooking dinner together. She didn't need things to be happy with them.

"You look beautiful," Metzli chirped, looking up at Molly from where they lay. They returned the sentiment with a grin of their own and a squeeze of Molly's hand that rested on their chest. Their heart hammers beneath it, a stark contrast to the outward calm Metzli is trying hard to display.

They can feel that void slowly creeping in despite their best efforts to quash it with a bit of light. It feels like ants crawling beneath their skin, buzzing with speed in circles but still somehow managing to push across the entirety of Metzli's body. The sensation is like sinking, and in a frantic rush, Metzli sits up before they can be consumed.

"Sorry." They gasp, "I'm fine." Not actually, but they don't want Molly to worry too much. "It's really just...yeah." It's hard to explain, so they don't. "Think the low is hitting. You..." They take a deep breath, "You don’t gotta stay. I'll probably just go lay down in my room."