Into the night: a Vandershea HC/drabble
When Dutch seduced Molly, sneaking into her boudoir window at night, he got creeped out by all the dolls on display above her bed.
The room had been unchanged since her girlhood, as the age treated women like children. Giggling, she helped him turn the dolls around, because he hated their staring eyes in particular.
She understood why he hated them after a couple more nights, sick of turning them back around, symbols of him leaving. Within his gaze, she was a free woman, and within theirs, a foolish girl. But she also hated their hollow gazes because they reminded her of Dutch's when he thought she wasn't looking.
The night he whisked her away, she had plucked the doll eyes out and put them in a small pile on the bed.
"…I suppose I like them a little mad," Dutch whispered to her, grinning and extending his palm from outside the window.
"That's because you're a little mad yourself," Molly whispered back as she took it, guided out and into the night.