alternative first kiss snippets
the first kiss (ch. 56) went through many iterations. here are some more fully formed snippets of prose that I wrote as I workshopped different versions. enjoy! so curious to hear any thoughts if you have them 🫣
A/N: This was written very early on, I would guess 2020-2021. I was still developing characters, so at this point, there was not even a wedding for May. As I came closer to the actual kiss chapter, I realized how I had written their feelings was at odds with how I had been developing the main relationship, so I tossed this out and started anew. But I did keep the tension in how Mollie addresses him (here, "Mr. Shelby" and "Tommy"; in the actual chapter, "Thomas" and "Tommy").
I had gone back to my parents for the time being. I kept myself busy, helping them with their shop, cleaning up loose threads before I left. At night, I could not sleep much. I thought about him, and the small smiles he had once given me on occasion. I missed him, but I knew that was inevitable. I would be leaving.
On one afternoon, I went to the docks to fetch some new bolts of sample fabric from India. I saw Thomas heading back from The Cut, and I immediately turned down a side street before he saw me. I kept time for five minutes, to be sure that I would not see him at all when I emerged from the side street.
After the five minutes, I peeked around the corner, but Thomas had stayed, and he had spotted me. He was heading towards me, striding quickly. I walked quickly away, but he caught me by the arm, pulling me into a darker alley, where there was no one.
"Mr. Shelby," I said. His eyes flashed.
"Tommy," he said. "Don't make me correct you again."
"I can't stop thinking about you. I want you, even if you're going to leave me," he said.
That irrational desire to be loved, even if only for a fleeting moment. Even I could feel its pull. I wavered for a moment, and Thomas knew.
I felt the soft crush of his lips on mine, and our breaths quickening. He ran his tongue over my bottom lip, coaxing it open, coaxing more open-mouthed kisses. His lips lapped mine, his tongue reaching in gently to touch mine. I gasped, and the spell was broken.
"I know that you feel it too," he said, his eyes with a strange glimmer. He kissed me again, all-consuming, my breath against his, pressing his body against mine. I touched the side of his face, my fingertips brushing the soft undercut of his hair.
"I can't stop thinking about you as well," I said. "I… wondered if things could turn out differently, but…"
#2: Mollie's bathrobe is a paid actor
A/N: Close readers will notice a lot of lines that are verbatim or very similar to the published chapter because I had written this passage very close to the actual publishing of the chapter.
In this snippet, the kiss happens at Tommy's house rather than at the wedding. I thought my premise of having Tommy help her find the earring rather romantic until I realized I MENTIONED IN A PRIOR CHAPTER MOLLIE DID NOT HAVE PIERCED EARS (good job, me, good job). That aside, I thought it would be odd if they were to go home together-- she'd presumably ask for the night off, and it's one thing for Mollie to "work" at Tommy's house but quite another to attend a formal gathering and leave with him. So I didn't quite buy having this scene in Tommy's house immediately following the wedding... and lastly, this scene was a little too steamy for their relationship at that point.
Fun aside, I originally intended the wedding to be Tommy & Mollie's public debut as a couple (lol). That sounds so silly now now that I think about it because I would have had to write their slow burn a whole lot faster if so. The wedding is still a debut of sorts-- introducing a possible coupling that would previously be unthinkable.
Still in my robe, I started to tidy up, because I had come from the wedding straight to Thomas' house, and now had a plethora of items that would not normally be there. I folded my dress into a box, and started to place my jewelry into another small box. However, I noticed one of the earrings' backs was missing. It must have rolled from the table onto the floor.
I dropped down to the floor, feeling slowly around on the carpet with my hands.
There was a rap at the door.
"What are you doing?" Thomas said, stepping into the room. He was in his bedclothes, his hair still drying, some moisture still on the nape of his neck.
"I'm looking for an earring," I said. He also sank to his knees next to me, helping me search. After a few seconds, he held up something small and metal between his fingers.
I opened my palm. "Yes, thank you, Tommy," I said. He dropped the earring back into my hands. His eyes strayed from my hands to my shoulder, and I became suddenly aware that my robe had fallen off my shoulder. Before I could react, he reached towards me, pulling the robe firmly back over my shoulder again, the faint brush of his fingers across my collarbone sending shivers deep inside me. He didn't withdraw, leaning slightly towards me even as his hand returned to his side.
I stood up, putting the earring back into the box, but when I turned towards him again, he still was on the floor, kneeling. His eyes were unfocused, and he bit his lower lip.
I felt the magnetic pull, my hand resting on his face, stroking his cheek. I could feel a small sigh, as he nestled into my hand, closing his eyes. Perhaps, just this one time, this one night, after everything, before everything.
"What can I do to make you come closer?"
"I'm right here with you," I murmured.
"At least for this one night, I could pretend that those smiles were all for me. That I could stir something in you, even a little," Thomas said. He licked his lower lip, opening his eyes again.
"Thomas…" I was unsure of what I could say in return.
"This distance, even in a name," he said, and despite the fiery warmth coming from the fireplace, I could feel his sadness trickling down my spine, slowly, coldly. I had slipped by calling him that name.
"I always knew that there was this wall, the wall that I also contributed to, and I'm so sorry for that, but I…" He cradled my hand in his, and I sank down to my knees to join him on the floor. I could not meet his eyes, and I felt limp. He moved my hand to his lips, kissing the sensitive palm delicately before dropping both of our hands to his lap.
"I still fell in love with you," he said. I felt his hand on my jaw, tilting my face gently. I was not prepared to hear this confession, to see those light blue eyes, muddied and pooling in the darkness.
"What can I do?" he whispered, his fingers light on my face, as if he were afraid to press any further. He leaned forward, but he then stopped himself, worry clouding his face. "What do you want, Mollie? Please, tell me."
I bridged the distance between us, feeling his open mouth on mine, frozen in surprise for a second before responding, but I pulled away in that moment. It was short, but I could feel both of us thrumming with adrenaline as we stared at each other, not quite believing what had happened.
That moment ended as suddenly as it had begun, as he leaned towards me again, all hesitancy gone. But the kiss was slow, languorous, and exploratory, his tongue teasing across my lower lip. His hands tangled in my damp hair, as we fell to the floor. I could feel his weight, that heat, through the bathrobe.
It felt so strange; I would have expected something rougher, more bitter, but this was gentle and slow, overcome with a longing, as if he wanted to preserve this moment. He kissed my upper lip, and his lower lip plush in between mine, and somehow, I knew to lightly bite. The reaction was immediate: I could hear that control fade, a moan stifled in his throat, his breaths coming faster.
