@furys-burn from here.
❛ You talk too much. ❜ Her voice is low and firm and it doesn’t shake, but if there’s anyone who would hear the desperation in it, it would be him. It’s amazing, the things you can get used to again -- the way you can find someone who hears what no one else does. Someone who takes up residence in your heart without your noticing and refuses to leave.
Someone who can leave you bleeding with worry in one fell swoop.
She sits carefully on the edge of the bed, watching his ridiculous face. He’s animated because he’s Molly and that’s what Molly is: alive, lit up from within, undeniable. He exists like a sun at the center of everything; if he ever takes her orbit away by doing something as foolish as going out, she’ll never forgive him. She’ll never forgive herself.
As he finishes speaking, she takes his face in her hands and holds on tightly. Perhaps uncomfortably. But there are things in him that only she sees, too. The worry. The exhaustion. The lingering pain. If there was anything she could do to take it away, to ease it -- she does not notice the warmth that gathers in her palms, or the way radiant energy pulses from them and feeds into the healing that’s already stitching him back together.
❛ You are not allowed to go, ❜ is what she finally comes up with.
