TIMING: The night of this conversation (Mid Sept)
PARTIES: @mollyhiatt @muertarte
SUMMARY: Molly needs a friend to talk to and Metzli offers their ear. The two share a bit more than words.
WARNINGS: Wrspice (fade to black)
It wasn’t until after Molly had agreed to let Metzli come over that evening that she had started to panic a bit. When they’d first offered in their message she hadn’t thought much of it. She’d enjoyed meeting Metzli at the gallery and continued to enjoy their subsequent conversations. They seemed kind and easy to talk to. After her interview at the gallery Molly had a difficult time getting their conversation out of her head. Though they had just met, Molly had felt like she was talking to a familiar friend. They had common interests. A shared appreciation for art had a way about bringing people together and Molly had always thought that to be quite lovely. It was all so very … nice.
Then, there was the whole side to this dynamic that seemed absolutely out of this world and it wasn’t in that wonderful, mind blowing kind of way. Molly had moved to a town that was incredibly out of her comfort zone. Actually, Wicked’s Rest was proving to be the kind of place that should’ve been out of anyone’s comfort zone. Unless of course you were the kind of person, or creature, that needed a safe haven. She really should’ve done more research prior to her signing her contract.
And Metzli, it turns out, was a vampire. Vampires were something that only existed to Molly in fictional media. She didn’t even know where to begin with that. Vampires weren’t supposed to be real. Neither were Muses, of course. Molly still hadn’t even begun to process that fact about her ex-husband and now she was tangling herself in a web that connected her to a vampire. She couldn’t have dreamt this up, no matter how hard she tried.
In the time after she’d taken Metzli up on their offer to coffee prior to their arrival, Molly was pacing the floor of her little living room once more. Her breaths were slow, intentionally so as she tried to calm herself. Why was she nervous? Oh, maybe because a vampire that had bitten her was on their way to her apartment? But it wasn’t them who bit her. They were under the mind control of someone else? This all felt entirely too much like the plot of a horror movie and though she watched them, that wasn’t a genre she was too comfortable with. Molly did love a good thriller novel, but she didn’t love being the main character in one. What on Earth was she doing?
She’d cracked the French doors leading to her tiny balcony. It wasn’t much but it was big enough for a small iron bistro table and chairs, and just enough space between the chairs and door for someone to sit at the door. Which was the plan. Molly had continued to pace but stopped in her tracks when she heard what she swore was the sound of the fire escape steel rattling outside. I can do this. She reminded herself. This is totally, and completely normal.
—
The door chimed as Metzli exited the late night coffeeshop, two drinks in hand. Both were dirty chai lattes, hot and ready to drink. Thankfully, Molly's apartment was only a few blocks away so the drinks wouldn't get too cooled down before they arrived.
They tried to make the trip quick, not just for the sake of optimal drinkability, but Metzli wasn't exactly sure when they'd be pushed back and Eight-Thirty-Two would take over again. Which would leave them to watch their own body move along a world that no longer welcomed them. It was for the best, Metzli knew that, but it didn't make them miss certain aspects of the life they weren't supposed to have.
Pushing the thoughts aside, the vampire reached the building and counted the apartment windows until they found which one would be Molly's. They set the drinks down and leapt for the ladder, releasing it for their use. Once the drinks were secured in their hand again, Metzli made their way up, carefully counting the windows again until they reached the appropriate balcony. All of a sudden, they felt tense, but they continued forward anyway and placed Molly's drink against the entrance's frame. Metzli stepped back and took a seat on the ground, rasping out a small, “Hello.”
Molly watched as the paper cup appeared, steam rising from the little opening. She reached forward through the opening of the door, bringing the cup inside. Then her gaze zeroed in on them. Though they still appeared a little beat up, the look in their eyes told Molly that they were who she was expecting. This wasn’t Eight-Thirty-Two. Would they make an appearance? Molly figured that was why they’d told her not to allow them to come inside. She could handle that much of a directive.
“Thank you.” She said as she brought the drink to her lips. The liquid was warm, as was the cup against her fingers. It wasn’t necessarily a cool evening out, but it wasn’t too hot and the warmth was comforting. “Hi.” Molly added and watched as they sat. She took her own seat on the other side of the door.
Her chest rose and fell as she took in and let out a deep breath. She brought the latte to her lap. “Are you sure that it’s..” she paused, words getting caught in her throat. This was all so strange. “Is it okay - that you’re here?” They’d been so adamant to get back to their master, as they had called them, the last time that she saw them. They seemed more relaxed now. They almost seemed normal and if it weren’t for the scrapes and bruises across their skin Molly would’ve thought that it was just her boss from the gallery who offered to bring her coffee in the evening sitting on the other side of the threshold now.
“Truthfully,” Metzli shrugged languidly, shoulders heavy from the tension and the overuse in the ring. “I am not sure, but no one followed me and no one will know.” Not only was Metzli allowed to leave now, but the new shift in the air had the whole clan struggling with a new, unanticipated affliction.
Most of the guards wouldn't have stopped Metzli except to ask where they were going in the first place, and as they were stepping out, they caught a good portion of them asleep anyway. Startling them awake and insinuating they could tell a higher ranked member of their laziness was enough to keep them from wondering where Metzli was going at all. They could feel sleep weighing their own lids, but the sense of constant danger kept them wide open and alert.
Taking a sip, the vampire scooted a little closer to the door, letting the light inside bloom across the rest of their features. Half of their face was riddled with minor bruises and cuts, but a rather large laceration stretched on the right side of Metzli's throat. A minor stab wound, they had decided. Their opponent was still clustered beneath their fingernails, dust mixed together with blood and packed tightly like mud.
Knuckles flexed and a few scabs broke, but Metzli paid them no mind. Instead, they took a large sip and relaxed minutely with a quiet hum from the mixture of spices. “So, tell me,” Metzli began, rotating their cup idly in their hand. “Tell me the entire reason I should hate this man.” And hope the two of them cross paths so Metzli can eat him. “Or, say whatever else you need to. You sounded like you just needed…” A friend. “Someone.”
As long as no one had followed Metzli, Molly figured she could breathe at least a little easier. The last thing Molly needed was someone lurking around outside of her apartment, and she figured Metzli wouldn’t be so reckless. They did seem to care about her and she thought that was kind. “Okay.” She said quietly with a nod.
“Oh, here!” Molly, who had seated herself on the other side of the door, turned away from them, and carefully placed her cup on the edge of her coffee table that was hardly an arm's reach away from where she was seated. She then turned the rest of her body to reach to the couch just behind the coffee table. Molly grabbed a deep green colored throw pillow from the couch and offered it to them through the opening in the door. “For your back, if you’d like to lean against something.” It wasn’t much but it was a small offering. She couldn’t invite them in but she could try to make sure they were comfortable for a bit.
Then she reached for her latte again, taking a sip. It wasn’t until she turned back to face them that she took in the rest of their features, including a large cut across one side of their throat. There was no hiding the gasp from her lips that followed. Molly wanted to know who did that to them. Though she was quick to remind herself that it wasn’t like she could do anything about it. And even if she could do anything about it it wasn’t like Molly was fit to actually do it. Molly wasn’t the hero. “Sorry,” She whispered, looking away from them for a moment. “Is there, uh-” she paused before attempting to meet their gaze again, “Is there anything I can do for your cut?” She inquired, eyeing it again briefly.
When they asked for details about her life, Molly fought back a flat smile. Her eyes returned to her own cup and all of the sudden she felt bashful and nervous. She didn’t have much trouble mentioning Roger online or via text, though she usually kept it brief. Something Molly still hadn’t done much was talk about him in person. It felt too painful. She’d often find herself so overcome with emotion and in return the person she’d be talking to would seem as though they were also overcome with similar emotions so early on Molly stopped mentioning him or her divorce. Things got too messy and uncomfortable.
She didn’t want that with Metzli. “I-” She began quietly. “I appreciate you coming over.” Molly meant it. No matter how scared she was to be close to them again, she also didn’t really want to be alone. “Nights are difficult for me sometimes,” She paused, “Well, often, actually.. I’ve never really been alone until this last year of my life.” The confession felt embarrassing, especially when she added to it the fact that she was forty years old. “I married young. To my high school sweetheart.”
—
Something fluttered and flopped like a small tumbling weight in Metzli's stomach when Molly offered them a pillow. They weren't supposed to go looking for comfort, to accept it, but they did so anyway, greedily. The smell of Molly's home clung to the fabric, extending it out onto the balcony where Metzli had a chance to experience it briefly.
A small, somber smile barely tugged up the corner of their lips, and they adjusted the pillow at their lower back, sighing with an added shake of their head. “Do not worry about my wound.” No one else did, therefore no one else should. “I am here for you.” Metzli took a sip of their drink, wiggling to smooth out their position so it's more comfortable.
“Then…that makes sense.” The vampire nodded, finding it reasonable to discover loneliness was far less manageable when you didn't have the person you promised eternity withl. Metzli was rather good at being alone, but they never really enjoyed it. There was just no other option.
“A high school sweetheart that was not what he seemed?” They tilted their head curiously, catching the way shame peppered across Molly's features. Metzli thought for a moment, trying to find something to say. They swallowed, “New things take time. Being alone is when you learn a lot. And you are starting over.” A shrug, “I do not believe it will take very long for you to find friends to fill up the space of loneliness.” Offering a small smile, Metzli added, “It took me one-hundred-sixty years to have my first friend. You will be okay.”
She was grateful they accepted the offer. For a second she thought she might have to argue with them on that too. They didn’t seem too eager to accept comfort for themselves, among other things as Molly had gathered from their conversations, but they deserved it. Just like they deserved peace and kindness.
Molly couldn’t help but watch as they moved the pillow to support their lower back. Was that sigh one of content or acquiesce? Surely she’d never know and she certainly wasn’t going to ask. Instead, she pressed her lips firmly together as they told her not to worry. Molly was a worrier, almost too much of one. Definitely to the point of annoying her husband at times, at least, she felt as much. She just wanted to make sure that people were okay. And it was easier to worry about others than herself.
They were lucky that she was too tired to push it. But she’d inevitably ask again before they left later, even though the idea of reaching out to touch them made her stomach twist into knots. Molly took a sip of her latte again.
“Well, at first he was exactly as he seemed. He was a charming, kind, and creative soul, and…” Her voice trailed off for a moment, a sadness creeping in as she recalled the Roger that she met. “He was in love with me.” The words fell from her lips faster than she had intended but she quickly realized it was in order to avoid the tears that were already threatening to spill from her eyes. So she cleared her throat. “Yeah, starting over is much more of a challenge than I thought it would be.” Of course it was, it would be for anyone but that was difficult for Molly to understand right now.
She did appreciate their attempt to cheer her up, though. And as they revealed that crumb of insight into their own past, Molly took it as an opportunity to deflect. “One hundred and sixty years?” She asked, a curious and tear-free look in her eyes now as she looked at them. “Surely it didn’t really take that long for you to make a friend, right? Not even as a child?” Surely it didn’t take that long because it was kind of insane for her to even think about the fact that they were that old. No one was that old. Vampire, she reminded herself.
“And you were in love with him.” Mist blurred the vampire's vision, chest aching as a number of emotions rained upon Molly's face. Memories played behind her eyes, and Metzli could only watch her reaction to the silent film. They had never been in love, but they did know a thing or two about a love cutting short. Death was only one of hundreds of ways a relationship of any kind could end, and Metzli wasn't quite sure if it was the cruelest.
“Challenging, but not impossible. This is your chance to find yourself again. To know what you bring to the silence and if you can stand to listen to it.” They paused, taking a breath. “What did he do? Do you mind if I ask?” Sighing quietly, Metzli scooted closer to the door, rearranging the setup along the way. The scent was stronger. Warm as ever and inviting–requesting a kind gesture for such a lost and somber soul. Caught up in the moment, Metzli went so far as to move their hand forward. As if they could somehow touch it. But, like the two north ends of magnets, Metzli's hand was repelled gently from the entrance, leaving their hand hovering momentarily.
“Sorry. I think I…was trying to comfort you.” Metzli dropped their hand and sheepishly took a sip of their drink, keeping their eyes trained on a random spot on the corner of the door. They answered her question.
“Um…no. Not as a child. Children threw rocks at me.” A sharp inhale, “People–even my parents, believed I was born cursed because of the labor my mother had, and then when I grew up, they thought I was…evil. The lack of showing emotion and doing things differently made them scared.” Metzli chuckled dryly, “So they stayed away or…or made me stay away.” It was their turn to hide the incoming tears in their eyes, even while still continuing to explain. “I had my brother but he was much older and left to have a family when I was a child.”
Metzli’s voice became strained and shaky, “Then our town was attacked by vampires and we both survived because we were changed.” Another dry laugh, “People did not like me in the clan either, but that did not matter to me because Master Eloy took care of me and let my brother be my partner for missions. Then he…he gave my human life a resting place when no one else would.” Metzli shut their eyes tightly, recalling the memories for the second time in months. “Everyone thought it was my curse that made the demons come for us, so…um…sorry.” Clearing their throat, Metzli segued, “What…what did your ex do?”
Tears stung her eyes again and she looked down at her lap. “Yeah, I was..” Deeply. Molly had fallen in love with Roger when they were teenagers. They were young and impressionable, and continued to spend two decades together. That’s a long time to have known someone so intimately. To say that the end of their relationship had been soul crushing for Molly would’ve been an understatement. He was her everything. And now they were nothing. That pain was something else.
“That’s the thing,” She felt like she had to explain herself but explaining herself meant exposing herself and that wasn’t something she was very good at doing, at least not to a stranger. Not that Metzli was a stranger per say. They had kind of saved her life… and then they had bitten her - though that wasn’t them. But by that standard perhaps Molly had never known someone as intimately as she now knew them. This was difficult for her to wrap her head around. “I’m kind of finding myself for the first time. We were teenagers when we met and fell in love. I hardly know my life without him.” Did that sound pathetic? “It’s a challenge to sit in the silence right now.” The admission wasn’t easy to give either. She felt that it made her seem weak.
Molly spoke with a downcast gaze, embarrassed. Which was kind of ridiculous and she knew it but everything still felt so fresh. They weren’t even legally divorced yet. She had hardly noticed Metzli’s hand reach towards the entrance but when she did her heart leapt. They were reaching for her out of comfort and instead of reaching back, she froze. Molly didn’t know how to be comforted over this. “It’s okay,” she said quietly. She could at least appreciate the sentiment.
She was grateful that Metzli seemed to oblige to her attempt to distract from herself but as they spoke of their childhood she frowned and her eyes finally traveled to them again. Molly could see the pain behind their eyes and no wonder they felt such pain. To live such a life that they were treated so poorly by nearly everyone. No one deserved that, and all for a lack of showing emotions? That was insane. Now she really wanted to cry. “Metzli, that’s terrible..” She said, voice trembling. “I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve that.” Hopefully they’d hear her, really hear that. And though she wasn’t sure she’d ever understand their relationship with Eloy, or support it, if he had given their human life a resting place, she could see why the relationship was a challenging one to navigate for them. It didn’t make it right, but still. “You’re not cursed.” She added in a near whisper. What a horrible thing to think about yourself. They deserved so much better. Now she wanted to reach back for them but she couldn’t seem to will her hand to move.
And what did Roger do? Molly paused at the question, a knot tightening in her stomach. “He was just making plans to leave me.” It wasn’t a lie. Well, technically all Molly had read was that he wanted to get rid of her so he could be with whoever he had been in communication with. In the midst of Molly’s heartbreak she’d failed to commit any names to memory, only the words of the message seared into her brain forever. Sometimes she wished she had waited and hadn’t reacted so soon but then as quickly as those moments creep in, sirens go off in her brain to remind her that things could’ve been much worse if she had done so. “Instead of questioning it I just separated myself from him. I didn’t even really try to fight it… I just left.”
“I understand that. When I was exiled from the clan, there was so much to learn. Most of my first days were spent simply staring at blank walls for hours.” Metzli huffed a small, rare chuckle, smiling further when they added, “My favorite TV show was the static. There was something comforting in the sound and the white noise on the screen.”
Slowly, their smile faded, trickling into a mournful frown. “I met someone who became like a daughter to me. She showed me so many new pictures and every family dinner we had, she would always find something to put on.” They missed her.
Clearing their throat, Metzli shook their head and decided not to push it. They could argue all the ways Molly was wrong, with substantial proof, but what did it matter? There was so little time left that Metzli let themself relax into the space Molly was making for the both of them. It was cozy despite the heavy topics at hand. They liked to think it was due to the fact that two souls were reaching out when they most needed it. Answering at just the right time.
“You chose yourself, Molly. Maybe you do not know why yet, but you did. That…that takes strength.” Metzli smiled as reassuringly as they could, shoulder and head relaxing against the invisible barrier. “That is not a bad thing at all. Maybe it was time. You did not need the whole story. You just needed to make a new one, no matter the pain.”
Molly couldn’t imagine being forced into an exile from those that you knew. Though she of course felt a little forced into it now, Molly did abandon everyone she knew by choice. It was the kind of choice that she thought that she had to make for her own sake, but still. Realistically she could go home any time. She could move back to Nashville, Vermont, or even back to NYC and fall into place with people she knew. But all of those people were tied to her life with Roger.
“I honestly can’t imagine tv static becoming my favorite tv show.” Molly admitted, glancing at them with a sort of flat smile. She knew white noise was comforting to some people but for Molly it just reminded her of emptiness and a broken television in the basement of her childhood home.
The flat smile fell again as they recalled someone they loved. It sounded like that person was no longer a part of their life. “I’m sorry.” She said again. “I’m glad you met them, of course. But losing those we love in any way is painful.” At the end of the day heartbreak is heartbreak.
Then Molly sighed deeply. It was something she found herself doing when she was frustrated with herself, or when she was avoiding admitting the truth. She’d heard this before, especially from her therapist. It took strength to leave. It took courage to put herself first. But Molly hadn’t wanted that at the time. She didn’t want to leave. They’d spent two decades building a life together, a life that was difficult towards the end but up until a point, Molly loved their life together deeply. It felt like she was abandoning a life she had worked so hard for. Now she was alone and pretending to be happy around strangers. Strangers that were slowly becoming new friends, but still.
“It doesn’t feel like I chose myself.” The admission was difficult. “It feels like I left something behind but it wasn’t something that I was ready to leave.” Did she sound mad? If they knew all of the context she was sure that she would sound crazy. “I didn’t feel that way at first. When I first moved here I felt like I was leaving for myself. But over the last few months I’ve started to feel… helpless.” As she spoke she looked down at the cup in her lap, using one of her fingers to trace slow circles around the lid. Then she looked back at them. “And that’s not something I just tell people.”
Metzli's brows slowly pinched together, the realization that nothing they said would really help falling on them. Unfortunately, that was just the reality of it all. No words could take away the pain of losing a life she made no more than they could when Cass had died.
Molly had to live it out, find everything naturally and candidly so she could carefully piece herself back together. In the midst of this, Metzli wanted to offer their own coarse and indiscernible pieces in hopes of filling whatever gaps Molly needed.
“I…am sorry.” Their gaze moved slowly from Molly's hands to her face, lingering on her eyes. It was like a glimpse into her broken heart, something of a pull tugging at their chest. “You are processing, it seems.” Metzli offered their own flat smile in return, then leaning their forehead against the barrier while they continued to look into Molly's eyes. It was strange, really. Normally they'd be tearing away, eye contact like that too stressful, but they remained. Molly's stare didn't cause them to feel that typical stress.
“Is this helping?” Their eyes widened slightly, realizing striking them. They looked away, almost bashfully. “You have pretty eyes.”
Molly felt Metzli’s gaze linger on her face and she only wished she could offer a better view - one that wasn’t quite so melancholy. She felt like a tortured soul and rather melodramatic but it wasn’t often that she was able to expose herself like this. Between her job and wanting to get out and try to make a new life for herself Molly spent too much time pretending to feel ways that she hadn’t always felt. There was a time when the real Molly was happy a good majority of the time. Her life was fulfilling and joyful and then it wasn’t - as simple as that. Now she did a lot of acting.
“I am,” She nodded slowly, eyes meeting theirs steadily now. It was Metzli behind those eyes and they seemed to really care. Molly couldn’t help but wonder what might’ve happened if they had stayed at the gallery. Would they be sitting here at Molly’s apartment, sharing details of past chapters of their lives? Would they just be coworkers, having brief, polite conversations at work and going their separate ways at the end of the day? She’d never know.
“I, um-” And now Molly felt embarrassed herself, a faint shade of pink blooming across her cheeks. As their gaze severed, that sad feeling in the pit of her stomach seemed to change for the briefest moment into something else - something less despairing. “Thanks.” She muttered. Never before had she been complimented on her eyes. They were brown and she wasn’t sure there was anything special about that. “Yours too.” Molly added with a gentle smile forming across her lips. “I’m sorry for being so miserable tonight.” As she apologized she shook her head slowly before tilting it to the side to lean it against the door frame. “Like I said, evenings are hard and are usually reserved for my self-pity party because I spend so much time every day pretending to feel things that I’m not usually feeling. And I don’t like to be sad around others.”
Had blood been flowing through their veins, Metzli's cheeks likely would've been a similar shade as Molly's. Sometimes being a vampire had its perks. Instead of outwardly displaying how Molly's compliment affected them, they felt its warmth silently spreading from their face, to their stomach. It grew in intensity when Molly leaned against the doorframe, face closer than its ever been to theirs.
“Do not apologize.” They sighed, “If it is helping, I am happy to listen. This is…” A shrug, “This is the calmest night I have had in many weeks.” The wound on Metzli's neck throbbed, as if in response, but they ignored it. “It is also…nice getting to know you enough to help you.” They stared again, scanning more of Molly's features and committing them to memory. That could very well be the last night the two would have together. It felt sickeningly bittersweet.
“Is the night easier today?”
Her eyes traveled back to them as her head continued to rest against the frame. They did seem a little more relaxed now and Molly was grateful for the opportunity to offer that space for them. “I appreciate it.” And she did. It really wasn’t often that she shared details beyond the run of the mill story she’d crafted in the event that anyone had asked about her. “It means a lot. And I’m glad for you to have a calm night, too.” If only they could leave Eloy and enjoy nights like this more regularly.
The thought of getting to know someone again, getting to know someone enough to be able to support them, as Metzli had just pointed out, brought a flipping sensation to Molly’s stomach. Though she spent her whole life getting to know people through the theatre when it came to her personal life she really tried to keep herself in a box. When she shared too much she got emotional, even before her divorce, and then the vibes got weird because whoever she was with became emotional too - whether it was sad or overly joyful about something. So to not feel that with Metzli, it was almost a relief. It seemed like Molly could let her guard down without the fear of bringing them down with her and that wasn’t a feeling she knew well.
“Tonight is easier, yeah.” She nodded slowly, “Now that you’re here.” Though she was still nervous given their last interaction, the nerves had settled a bit. “I’m glad you offered to come over.” As she spoke she let her hand closest to them fall to the side and rest along the track of the door frame, fingers feeling the cool night breeze outside of the apartment. “I wasn’t sure that I wanted company at first but now I know that I needed it.”
“Thank you for letting me visit.” It was a difficult thing to allow someone to see yourself at your most vulnerable. Even for Metzli, as injured as they were, they were a predator. Monsters never licked their wounds in front of allies or prey.
“I know after what I did, it was not easy.” They watched as Molly's hand moved toward the frame, that pull increasing in strength. Without much thought, Metzli moved their hand next to hers, grazing her fingers gently.
“Sometimes we need things and do not realize it.”
Her other hand absentmindedly traveled to the gold chain necklace around her neck, her fingers playing with the tiny heart pendant. It was a gift from her sister when she moved to Maine. She’d told Molly that just because her real heart had been broken, she deserved a whole one from someone who really loved her. God it was a little cheesy but probably one of the most meaningful things anyone had ever given her.
At the mention of what had happened between them a couple of nights ago, Molly’s breath caught and her fingers clenched the pendant a little tighter. But the stiffness in her limbs relaxed at their brief touch, ironically enough.
Molly didn’t recoil. Instead, she just looked down at their hands, fingers barely touching. “I know it wasn’t you.” She explained, eyes still on their hands. “I mean, it was - it looked like you. But they didn’t talk like you, they didn’t have the same look in their eyes.” It sounded crazy. Molly still felt as much when she thought about it. And then she met their gaze again. “I know you didn’t mean to hurt me.” It didn’t mean that she was any less nervous right now but that was a truth she was working hard to accept. “I needed to see you again.” As she spoke her fingers inched closer, carefully brushing the top of their hand now. She only hoped that the warmth from her skin wasn’t uncomfortable to them.
When Molly's touch grazed their knuckles, it was difficult to keep their hand in place. Not because they didn't ache for a kind gesture or affection in general, but because Metzli's hand was a weapon. Their whole being was. The night before was still etched in their skin with bruising and scabs, and that very hand had once wrapped around Molly's throat. But here she was now, reaching for them, in the most gentle way.
They reached back, flipping their hand so their palm was presented to Molly. The warmth of her fingers bloomed fiercely, traveling up to their chest and spreading further. Metzli shivered, smiling from how pleasant it felt.
“I would never hurt you if I could help it. If something happened like that monster, I would not hesitate to jump in front of you again.” They met her eyes, still shocked by how natural and comfortable it felt. Metzli blinked, eyes slightly watering, though they didn't know exactly why. “I think I needed to see you too.”
Molly didn’t hesitate to intertwine her fingers with theirs. The feeling of their skin against hers was nice. It was at this moment that she realized that this was the first time she’d ever held someone’s hand other than Roger’s. At that thought she felt nerves tighten within her but on an exhale she did her best to let it go, using their touch to ground her.
She found herself smiling too. “You didn’t hesitate to jump in front of me then.” She said, “No one has ever done anything like that for me. I mean-” She paused, body relaxing against the doorframe again, her shoulders falling now. “I guess no one has really ever had to do something like that for me before, but still. You hardly knew me and were willing to throw yourself in front of a monster.” Molly liked to think Roger would’ve done the same but when she truly considered it - which she had in the nights following the encounter, she realized that he probably wouldn’t have. And that was really sad.
“Is it sad that I don’t know if my ex-husband would’ve done that for me?” She asked them. It was no use keeping these thoughts to herself now, not when she had someone willing to listen. “I guess he would’ve helped us get away. He’s not a fighter - he’s far too pretty for scars and bruises.” There was an edge to Molly’s voice as she spoke. Pretty wasn’t a term of endearment in that statement.
The warmth spread further, and Metzli swallowed hard when Molly intertwined their hands together. They looked down to look at how their palms connected, embracing one another. They'd held hands with friends before, but it never felt like that. Not even with Xóchitl or Siobhan, who had made the effort for more intimate encounters with Metzli. As kind as it was, it felt transactional with Siobhan and it felt a lot like stealing with Xóchitl.
“I am…a shield. Most times I am a weapon, but my skills are versatile, I suppose.” Metzli’s eyes remained at their hands, shoulders moving up and down in a languid shrug. “Maybe a better word is tool. That is all I have ever known.” Their voice dropped in volume, and they mumbled, almost discernibly so. “All I have ever been. Always more object than person. Sometimes less than that. A void where everything gets lost.” Why else would they have never found a home until Eloy came in and discovered how to make something out of nothing.
Taking a breath, Metzli shook the thoughts away, taking a more humorous approach to answer Molly's question. “Not sad. But I guess that means I am not pretty.” They smiled, hoping that insinuated they were making a joke.
“You’re much more than that.” The words fell from her mouth before she could stop them but it wasn’t like it was untrue. She wasn’t saying anything offensive. “I’m sorry that you’ve been made to feel that way.” She turned her head to look at them, watching their expression as they spoke. “When I met you, you were an artist. You own an art gallery, that’s much more than being a shield.” Her thumb slowly brushed against their hand comfortingly. “I think there are a lot of people around here who care about you and think you’re so much more than that, too.”
If only they could see that. No one deserved to think of themselves as such. Objects were disposable and Metzli certainly wasn’t, not in Molly’s eyes. She wanted to get to know them more.
But at the quick change of mood and their joke, Molly laughed. “Ah,” She said, a blush creeping across her cheeks again. She could feel the warmth bloom across her face and now she couldn’t hide it. “I wouldn’t say that.” She said bashfully. “And you’re not afraid to protect someone. I think that’s much more attractive than running away.”
“It is okay. I am used to it.” Metzli shrugged, returning Molly's brush with one of their own. “That life is in the past. I have to focus on what Eloy needs.” They took a deep, shaky breath. “But for right now, I will admit that I am enjoying your company. I will focus on that instead for now.”
There was something intoxicating about causing a smile to form, amplified tenfold when a laugh followed it. Metzli watched the way Molly's lips curved, how her chest rose and fell with each breath of her laugh. They weren't the type to cause anything like it, much more suited and apt to influence frowns and grimaces. It was nice and a much needed change of pace. Metzli was so moved by it that they didn't really think before they spoke.
“Your blush is really pretty.” Their smile fell, shock widening their eyes and tensing their shoulders. “Um, I-I…my cheeks no longer do that. Blood does not…yeah. Sorry. Maybe I should stop speaking.” Most people preferred it that way, especially when Metzli was younger. Things worked out much better for them when they were neither seen or heard. Although…being seen by Molly felt a lot like relief. Metzli wasn't sure what to make of that.
Molly wanted to protest. It was apparent to her that a life with Eloy was only one that was going to put them in danger and cause them pain. There was no way that the injury across their neck wasn’t painful. Whether they felt as though they could endure it or not, it didn’t make it right for them. It didn’t make it a life worth living for. Instead of saying much, she just squeezed their hand gently. “I think focusing on enjoying each other’s company right now is probably the best for both of us.” They’d have tonight, at least.
When they spoke again, she could feel the color deepen and a warmth crept up across her chest. Was her pulse quickening? It was entirely possible. She wasn’t used to being complimented like this. Sure, Roger had said things and her friends had called her pretty but this felt different. It felt more intimate coming from them.
A grin tugged at the corner of Molly’s lips as they seemed embarrassed by their compliment. “I’d like it better if you didn’t stop speaking.” With that her gaze was dead set on them. “I like to hear you speak.” And she did, it was comforting. She had enjoyed their conversations from the start. “Tell me something happy, about something that brings you joy - or that at least used to bring you joy.”
Metzli grew incredibly sheepish, unsure what to do for several moments. Even at their best, Kabil never seemed to enjoy his sibling's ramblings. He would allow himself to be subjected to it though, and that's what made it mean so much. Metzli had a voice around him, never able to find it anywhere else.
“Well, let me think.” Adjusting their seat, they leaned their forehead against the barrier, still feeling the magnetic push-back. It didn't bother them though. The more they relaxed into it, the less force they felt. Had it not been for the doorframe, Metzli thought perhaps they could connect their forehead to Molly's. They didn't think she'd like that though, so they continued, looking up as they thought hard about joyous moments.
“Fluffy. Painting. Long walks. Dinners with my daughter.” Metzli's smile was somber, but the happiness was obvious. “This–with you. This is happy.” They closed their eyes, giving Molly's hand a squeeze. “Here with you. It is the calmest and happiest I have been in a long time.” They locked eyes with Molly again. “And you?”
Molly watched as they adjusted against the barrier. Now, at this moment, she wanted so desperately to invite Metzli in. She knew they’d be more comfortable propped against the couch than leaning against the patio door. There was no way the concrete was comfortable beneath them. And she could only imagine the conditions they had been living in lately. What they probably needed was a warm bed. If only she could offer that.
There was a smile across her lips as they spoke. They were smiling too, a complicated one that still reflected positive memories. At the mention of their little moment right now, her smile grew wider. This was making her happy too. Truly happy moments were few and far between for Molly right now but she was grateful to have a few so close together. Earlier this week she had gone hiking with Daniel and though she was nervous, it turned out to be a lovely time. It was also one of the most relaxed she’d felt in some time. Now, sitting here with Metzli, she felt herself able to relax again.
She offered a gentle squeeze of their hand in return. “I love long walks, too. Rainy days, cozy fires in the fall. A night out at the theatre.” The last one brought a small pang to her chest. She hadn’t been out for a proper night at the theatre in years, since before the end of her marriage. But Molly wasn’t going to give that thought more room. “So you paint. I knew you were a proper artist. What kind of paintings do you do? Landscapes, still life, portraits? Tell me everything.”
“I also like rain. Have you seen snow before? I saw so much of it for the first time here. Mexico did not get much snow. It would grow cold, yes, but we only really got sleet.” Metzli tilted their head, bringing Molly's hand to their lap. “It grows so quiet when the snow is high. I really love the crunch when you step on it too.” They smiled, eyes squeezing shut as they imagined the sound.
A pleasant shiver ran down their spine as it played in their mind. When they opened their eyes, Molly was asking her next question, and Metzli felt free. Which was dangerous because they didn't need to take a break to breathe when they spoke.
“What I create depends on my mood. I mostly paint things I feel. How it would look manifested into the physical and be tangible. Sometimes I also like to stop and sketch in a small sketchbook I made. You are in it. All the people I have met are. I also love drawing animals and sometimes I still sketch rocks that I think Cass would have liked. When I go visit her resting place, I leave the sketches there for her and hope she enjoys them at least a little bit.” They stopped, but only to think for a moment before beginning again. “I think maybe there are still some of my paintings left at the gallery. They are free to take. I…I will not need them.”
Metzli's smile fell, and that's when they also realized how much they'd said. Their head fell, curls tumbling across their eyes and obscuring their face. “I apologize. Um…what kind of theatre do you enjoy?”
“I love snow.” As they spoke her head rolled to the other side and her eyes closed as she imagined being back in the northeast for snow this winter. Winters in Nashville had been so bleak and rainy, especially the last few years. Molly needed to feel the magic again. The way Metzli spoke about it made it sound magical. She’d turned her head and looked at them just in time to see them squeezing their eyes shut to what she assumed had been to imagine the snow. “I haven’t been able to enjoy it for a few years now. I’m excited to be back and see it.”
Then her eyes fell to her hand in their lap. It was effortless, the way they had tugged her closer. Any nerves she had earlier had disappeared.
“Me?” Molly stared at them. She felt her chest tighten but it wasn’t in one of those ways where you were made to feel like you couldn’t breathe. It was more like disbelief. And a really weird unsettling feeling deep in her stomach at the thought of being on someone’s mind again - potentially as a muse. But it wasn’t like that with Metzli. Metzli wasn’t Roger. Instead, she pushed that thought away and shifted her focus back to what else they had said. They knew a loss that was deep and had found a beautiful way to honor her. Now she felt tears threaten to spill from her eyes again. “I’m sure she loves them.” Her voice was quiet. Molly was afraid she’d cry if she said any more on the topic.
And there they were again talking about not needing things anymore. It wasn’t fair. “You don’t need to apologize. Thank you for sharing.” She was going to be sure to take a few of those paintings, too.
Molly turned her body so that she was fully facing them now and with one hand still in their lap she leaned over the threshold and brought the other to their face, brushing their curls away from their eyes. “I enjoy plays that are deeply emotional, telling stories of broken people who could use a little healing. That sounds morose, I know.” Happy musicals just weren’t really her style. “Though when it comes to costume design I prefer period pieces. I love designing and building costumes from different eras. Shakespeare is my favorite, which sounds cliche but he had such a way with words.”
Molly was a wonder to look at. She wore her emotions on her face without remorse, and Metzli watched, almost bewitched. They could see memories playing behind her lids when she closed her eyes, how fondly she looked back on them with how the smile spread across her lips. If they got the chance to hear all about Molly's experiences and thoughts, Metzli wasn't sure they'd ever know enough about her.
“Yes. You.” Was that weird? It wasn't just Molly and it wasn't an action of obsession. Sometimes Metzli still drew their parents, but that was far less often than before. As good as their memory was, nothing could stop decades of time from weathering a mind.
“Mostly it is the eyes.” They confessed timidly. “Eyes are honest to me. They never lie.” Maybe that was why eye contact was so intense for Metzli. They were scared that people would delve deep enough to see the truth. To see what they truly felt. Their pain was theirs to bear. No one needed to see that they were screaming inside for someone to save them. That their throat had become raw from their desperation and what was left were the echoes in a void.
At Molly’s touch, Metzli stiffened, almost flinching away on instinct. With a deep breath, their eyes fluttered shut with relief. “Maybe that is why you like the emotional shows. They are real.” Metzli took another deep breath, absentmindedly attempting to lean into Molly's touch.
“I am sure it is not cliche. As long as you enjoy it, that is all that matters, I think.” They smiled, stomach flipping around madly. It bordered on the same sensation as anxiety, but it felt better than that to Metzli. They didn't know how to decipher it other than it felt a lot like it did when Xóchitl asked if she could kiss them.
Molly had never given much thought to her eyes. They were brown and that was it, but this was the second time Metzli had mentioned them tonight. Now she was feeling bashful again and glanced down, biting at her lower lip. Molly’s eyes, though nothing special, did hold a lot of truth. She wore her emotions on her face and she supposed at one point wore her heart on her sleeve. It was rolled up tightly now, shattered pieces rattling somewhere empty. But with Metzli she couldn’t help but feel a little tug, as if those shattered pieces wanted to come back together.
She could say the same about their eyes, though. Metzli’s eyes were beautiful and held so much - so much pain, so much life, so many stories. It gave meaning to the saying about eyes being windows to the soul. Molly knew as much was true about her eyes as well. They were two kindred spirits, it seemed. Two tortured souls. Though Metzli was far more tortured than Molly. And she wanted to make all of that pain go away.
“Maybe that is why.” She said, allowing their face to lean against her hand. Her fingers were gentle as they pressed against their skin. “I’ve always preferred real to fantasy.” It was true. Molly had tried desperately to enjoy fantasy stories and fairytales but even as a kid it just sounded like a kind of magic that didn’t exist. So she threw herself into historical fiction. “And maybe you’re right. It’s nice to have things that we enjoy.”
As Molly spoke her touch lingered. Earlier this evening she couldn’t have imagined leaning in so close to Metzli. She couldn’t imagine it, one because they hadn’t been around and two, the last time they had been together they weren’t them. Now, though? Molly felt her heart begin to beat faster and she swallowed hard, throat feeling dry as she leaned closer, face nearing Metzli’s. She hadn’t realized how badly she had longed for intimacy like this. She stayed that way for another couple of seconds, eyes closing slowly.
And then she realized what she had been doing. She pulled her body back carefully, slowly, and blinked a couple of times. “I’m sorry,” She wasn’t sure what for. What almost happened? “I’m in my feelings tonight, I think. Extra emotional.”
As Molly leaned closer, all the sounds and colors and lights amplified in intensity. All of a sudden, Metzli was keenly aware of just how warm Molly's hand was, how long her lashes were, how her eyes curved with a tinge of sorrow but a light still managed to beam. They closed their eyes too, a familiar course of action they'd only had a chance to perform a handful of times.
Metzli's head tilted in quiet acceptance, and they waited for connection. They could hear everything. Crickets chirped around them, a few streetlights buzzed in the distance, and–and then Molly pulled away and Metzli's senses settled.
Opening their eyes, their breath hitched, and they shook their head. She had wanted something hadn't she? Metzli blinked a few times, confused and curious as they weighed their options. They could take a risk and finish what she started, or what Metzli believed she started. Or they could act like it never happened, burying the way their heart seemed to fall at that idea. What did they have to lose though? They were marked for death. Their life would be no more very soon.
So, with Molly's hand still in theirs, Metzli cautiously and gently tugged for her to return. “I am emotional too.” Metzli tugged again, pulling her back to them but allowing enough of a chance to back out if she needed to. Their lids closed halfway, gaze searching hers.
Had she almost kissed them? Is that what had almost happened? This feeling felt so out of reach for Molly. She had her first kiss with the only person she had ever kissed before when she was seventeen. Honestly, she couldn’t remember what it felt like to feel the spark. Of course she was deeply in love with Roger for most of their marriage and there were moments when she felt warm and fuzzy inside over their interactions. But it was nothing like this.
Molly’s free hand had come to her lips absentmindedly, fingers brushing her bottom lip carefully as if she was wondering if she had actually kissed them but blacked out. No - she would’ve felt something.
She had been so distracted by her own thoughts that she hardly felt Metzli tug for her but when she realized what was happening Molly moved her body so that she could lean closer to them. Her free had moved to their face again. Molly’s nervous system was sending what felt like ten different kinds of signals. She was craving a moment with them and she was nervous about kissing someone new. There was also the whole thing about them biting her so her body was worried about this moment descending to a similar one. It was a lot.
In the end, Molly decided to go with what felt natural - kissing Metzli was what did. She felt clumsy as she leaned for them but soon her lips met theirs, pressing softly - carefully, as if she might be scared of hurting them for once. And as their lips touched Molly felt herself nearly melt against them. It was a wonder she hadn’t fallen out of the patio door into their lap.
Molly's lips didn't necessarily crash into Metzli's, but there was a small edge to her movements that made the impact firm. It softened upon finding a balance, a buzzing overtaking the surface just beneath Metzli's skin. They let out a small gasp against her lips, eyes fluttering shut and hand unclasping from Molly's to cup her face.
She was warm, far warmer than before. Metzli felt warm too, though they knew that was more of an internal sensation. They were still cool to the touch, which was a cause for slight worry as far as comfort was concerned.
“I…” They said between kisses, “I am sorry I am cold.” Metzli tangled their hand into Molly's hair and leaned back. “Is this really happening?” It felt ridiculous to ask, but it felt so unreal to be kissed so gently by someone they'd hurt. How selfish was it that Metzli hoped she didn't let herself think about that because they didn't want the intimacy to end? They muttered, “I promise you are safe with me right now.” Their kiss became a little more desperate, almost pleading. “I promise. I promise.” Metzli pulled her with them, taking it slow so that she could retreat if she needed.
Kissing them was an odd sensation. They were cool to the touch, cooler than Molly was used to feeling when she touched another person. Though she figured that tracked since they were a vampire and all. Oh god. She couldn’t let her mind wander right now.
Molly wanted to kiss them and she didn’t want to stop now that lips were locked. After a few moments she finally came up for air, gasping softly against their lips between kisses. “Don’t apologize.” She said quietly against their lips.
As Metzli spoke again, saying that she was safe with them, Molly knew she had to readjust. When she was twenty she probably could’ve handled making out with someone at this angle but at the end of the day she was forty. She had to make herself more comfortable. Thinking with her heart right now, she crawled slowly and carefully over the threshold of the door. Now she was straddling them and she desperately hoped that it was okay.
Given the way they were kissing her right now and clutching her head through her hair she thought so but she’d be prepared to jump out of their lap at any moment if needed. Now she was fully outside on her balcony in their lap, kissing them with a bit more confidence now that she was closer. “I,” Molly whispered between kisses, one hand resting against the side of their face, “I hope this is okay.”
Sirens were going off in the vampire’s head, a lack of knowledge lowering their confidence. When they kissed Xóchitl, yes it was sweet and intimate, but she was a friend. She gave them tips and helped them navigate desire so they could understand what to do and how to do it. But with Molly, all training wheels were off. Metzli was on their own, and they weren't sure they were up to the task despite desperately wanting to be. They were getting too in their head. They needed to relax, and at Molly's question, they did, if only slightly.
“Yes,” Metzli breathed, running their hand up Molly's back and holding her firmly in place, almost protectively. The pressure was near-perfect, keeping them at ease. “Just…just nothing sudden please.” Metzli requested, more for her sake than theirs. When uncomfortable, sometimes they grew upset enough to bite like a scared dog, no matter if the person was someone Metzli had always felt safe with.
It all felt so much like a dream, and in a way, it was. Once that evening was over, it would all flutter away, and Metzli would be forgotten with each attempt to remember. But they didn't linger on that. Leaning back further, they sighed and smiled into a few more kisses, breaking away only to ensure Molly was breathing enough.
“This is not a dream, but it feels like one.” They whispered with a chuckle, bumping their nose playfully against Molly's. That was annoyingly cheesy, right? But it was accurate, and a lot of the romantic movies they'd watched had similar lines in the middle of intimate scenes. The next thing they could add was an admission, along with a way out if Molly so needed. They only had so much to reference. “Take me or not, whatever you wish.” Metzli murmured, kissing Molly one more time. “I just want to be close to you.”
At their request, Molly nodded slowly and continued to kiss them. She kept the touch from her hands gentle. It was better this way because Molly didn’t really know what to do outside of this. Moments like this had only happened between her and one other person. And though that person never complained she still couldn’t help but worry that she might be fucking it up somehow.
Her kisses grew more intense as she leaned into them, forehead occasionally resting against theirs as she stopped to breathe. She truly hadn’t realized how starved for this she had become and a part of her was embarrassed by it but at the same time this kind of longing was normal.
“It does feel like a dream.” Molly said, a quiet laugh in response. “If it’s a dream, I don’t want to wake up anytime soon.” And she didn’t. Despite her anxiety and despite any fears she felt safe amidst their embrace. “And I’m not going anywhere.” she reassured them, finally pulling her lips away from theirs for longer than a few seconds, foreheads touching.
Molly let out a sigh. “I-” For a few moments she had contemplated opening up to them a bit more. But now, as if hit by a wave of unease, Molly pulled back slowly again. “I’m sorry,” She didn’t know why she was apologizing. Now Molly was second guessing herself and the way she moved against them. “It’s been a long time for me.. And you’re-” She paused. Why did something like this feel so uncomfortable at an age when one shouldn't care. “This is only my second time doing this with someone new…”
The way Molly moved was new. Xóchitl was precise with each of her movements, only growing uncertain when she thought she'd sour the mood or cause discomfort. Still, even with her anxiety, Molly followed her desire, earning multiple satisfied sighs and equal amounts of intensity. Metzli grew lost in the sensations, tugging at the buttons of their shirt so they could feel Molly more closely. Frustrated with how slow it was going, the buttons clattered to the ground after one easy jerk.
Feeling Molly's hands roaming around their body felt like bliss, no matter if wounds ached and stung. Metzli sighed, greedily coaxing Molly closer to them. But when she had to back away, they didn't stop her, watching her sit up fully with concern written on their face. Had they done something wrong? Did she think they were a mistake? Questions attacked them in between Molly's breaths, only quieting when she apologized and half-explained. It was enough for Metzli to understand.
They sat up, adjusting Molly in their lap, still holding her close but with a low enough pressure to say you can back away if you need to. “Molly,” Metzli whispered, cupping her face and grazing their thumb comfortingly across her cheeks. “I only had my first time last year, and it was because she pitied me and only after she called me sad several times.” Metzli huffed out a chuckle, finding fondness in the memory. Siobhan became their closest friend after that. “And my last time was with a friend who was teaching me how to let myself want.”
Taking a risk, Metzli planted a soft kiss on Molly's cheek, trying to reassure her. Not to urge her to continue, but to convince her that they saw nothing wrong with either of their levels of experience. “I may be old, but this is the first time anyone has wanted me to want me and not to help me. I want you, too.”
The feeling of their skin beneath her hands sent an odd sensation coursing through her body. It was likely due to the fact that their body temperature was much lower than hers given the whole vampire thing. Also their scars - Molly had never felt so many beneath her fingers before. Surely they all told a story, each story full of immense pain by the looks of them. She could sense an incoming wave of disconcertment over their situation but she did her best to let their present actions ground her in the moment.
Besides, her own anxieties about how she was performing in the moment were more pressing. Though the sound of buttons clattering to the ground should’ve been enough to convince her that she was probably doing okay.
Still, she grew frustrated with the mental block that had seemed to form in an instant. Molly was grateful that Metzli seemed to understand. They allowed her to pull back but kept their arm securely around her as if to let her know that they had her. When their hand came to her face she felt as though she was going to cry. This was a kind of moment that should’ve been easy to navigate - it was something that Molly had been missing, even if she didn’t want to admit it to herself. It was normal to want someone and act on that desire. Yet she felt ten different ways about it.
There was a gentleness about them, yet a hunger all the same. It made her heart flutter. It felt good to be desired and also a little daunting. They understood though, it was clear from their own explanation. What Molly didn’t understand was how this could’ve been a first for them. They had caught her attention from the start and it was wild to think that they hadn’t experienced a moment like this with others. In a way, Metzli intoxicated Molly. The way they looked at her, how they held her, the way their lips felt against hers - it made her dizzy. She could only hope that this wasn’t just second, first-time jitters.
When she finally spoke again, her voice was soft. “I want you, too.” She brought one of her own hands to their face again. Molly certainly wanted to help Metzli but it wasn’t in the way that they mentioned. She wanted to help bring them back - to offer a different life for them. One without the pain and suffering they seemed to endure day in and day out. They deserved a life full of love, enough to make up for all of their lost time. “I wish you could stay.”
Greedily, Metzli pressed their face deeper into Molly's touch, muscles relaxed completely. With how much bliss they felt, they hardly felt the soreness anymore either. They could even feel that the wound on their neck had mostly healed. Metzli couldn't help but feel that the calm space Molly had provided had something to do with it. And somehow, their presence had given her the confidence to act on her desires, given her the chance to be free.
“Stay?” The confession surprised them, brows raising. Both of them had agreed remaining in the moment was best, so Metzli could only assume that her mind had ventured further forward. Growing intimate with someone was a giant risk and huge display of vulnerability. After the pain Molly had been through, Metzli wondered if their affections would be a detriment to her. They remained silent, in thought, only speaking when a coherent sentence formed in their mind.
“I can stay.” Looking up to the sky, the vampire narrowed their eyes, returning their gaze to Molly. “At least until dawn.” Lids heavy, Metzli willed sleep away with a few forceful blinks. “And if you want me to, I can return as many times as I can until…” They trailed off, eyes drifting downward. “I do not want to think of that.”
Metzli didn't want to die, but it was inevitable. And what did it matter if they enjoyed a few intimacies with someone as long as they continued to enact Eloy's will? When death stood so close behind you, you took bolder approaches.
With utmost care, the vampire ran their hand back down Molly's back and gave her cheek another kiss. “Do you want me to stay tonight?” Metzli spoke against the edge of Molly's jaw, trailing down until they reached the place they once bit her. The wound was gone, but the hurt was still there. Metzli softly laid a kiss in its place, returning to Molly's face for her answer.
It wasn’t until Metzli repeated the word stay that Molly realized that she had said that aloud. Honestly, that was meant to be an inside thought on her part but she figured the universe had other plans. She knew it was a complicated situation for them. So she wasn’t surprised when they paused the take in the comment before saying anything else. Molly was about to apologize for even bringing it up when they spoke.
Molly hadn’t exactly meant staying the night at her apartment but now that the idea was out in the open she felt nerves course through her body again, feeling electrified beneath her skin. If them staying meant more of this, she was ready to shout yes from the rooftops. A part of her worried though that saying yes could also put them at risk for another encounter like at the market. Metzli hadn’t seemed to shift back to Eight-Thirty-Two so far, was it possible that it could stay that way for the entire night? It was a question she wanted to ask but didn’t know how.
That last comment, though, about not wanting to think of whatever it was they meant. Oh, wait, their message earlier, she thought to herself. Damnit. Now Molly was fighting back a sadness so deep. She didn’t want to think of that either. “Yes, stay with me tonight.” She figured that invitation was the only way to combat the sadness right now.
Molly felt a tightness in her chest at the offer but it was a feeling she’d rather experience than send them back for a night wherever they had been staying. That place had given them these fresh wounds. If all she could offer was one night away then she’d do it, no matter the cost. That tightness began to loosen though as their lips met her skin again. A quiet groan escaped through her lips as they kissed the spot on her neck where they had bitten her and goosebumps rose across her skin. What a completely different sensation that was from the last time their lips had graced that spot. “I want you to stay with me tonight.” Her gaze met theirs as she spoke. She almost said Stay with me every night until… but she knew that’d be playing with fire and providing the offer for tonight was enough fire for one night. Molly knew she wasn’t thinking as clearly as she should right now and that pursuing something with Metzli could only end one way. They were committed to Eloy and as badly as she wanted to sever that connection, she couldn’t do it, not on her own, anyway.
“Okay.” They muttered, lips trailing back to her neck. Her heart was drumming at a high tempo, a new desire tightening in Metzli's throat. They swallowed, taking a breath. The constriction faded quickly, much easier than they anticipated. Given how strange the energy had been in town, intimacy with a human had far more risks than just complicating a friendship. Metzli trusted their control though, and it seemed like Molly trusted them a little too.
“Do you want to stay out here?” Metzli asked, tilting their head curiously as they shifted Molly around in their hold and stood up with her. “Remember Rosemary? If you want to take back the invitation, she can help you get a spell. Or you can place a crucifix at any entrance.”
They scanned her features, unsure of what she'd say, but still at ease in the moment. Even if they knew whatever they had with Molly for that night was temporary at best. You couldn't exactly mix the physical without the emotional either, and given the past that Molly was trying to heal from, Metzli was nervous to see how this would affect her.
Selfishly, they chose to believe it was the first step in the right direction. That if she could start again and be intimate with someone other than her ex, then she could do that with others too. It was what she deserved. She was emotional and sensitive, a lover of love, and incredibly enticing. Metzli smiled just thinking about it. “You look beautiful.”
They decided silently that they wouldn't let themself get too attached. As wonderful as it was to be seen and wanted by someone other than a helping friend, Molly had a life ahead of her, perhaps a few lovers. Metzli didn't.
At their question, Molly’s brow furrowed. She steadied her feet as they and thought about what they meant. “Stay out here?” She repeated, looking out at the sky. Oh. The realization hit as she remembered an episode of Vampire Diaries she had watched with friends in college. If she invited them it couldn’t be undone - or, it would be work to undo it. Did that mean they’d be welcome in any form? What if they came back as Eight-Thirty-Two, making good on what they had told her in the market for her intervention in their situation? Maybe staying outside would be best for now.
“It’s a nice night, we can stay out here if that’s okay with you.” It was the easier route for now. “I can grab pillows and I have plenty of blankets, too. We can make it comfortable. I’ll just have to close the door behind us so Ophelia doesn’t get out.” The poor cat had been locked in Molly’s bedroom for the evening and she wasn’t about to make her stay locked in all night. “I have a cat, by the way. That’s who Ophelia is.”
As she spoke she felt that familiar feeling of a blush settle across her face again. Then when they complimented her she was sure that the color deepened. “I, uh-” The words felt caught in her throat. “You do too.” She managed. And they did. In the warm glow from the lamp in the living room they looked calm. They had seemed that way all night and she didn’t want to give that up anytime soon. “I’ll be right back. Wait here,” She added for good measure.
With a soft peck against their lips, Molly released herself from their embrace and disappeared through the living room and around a small corner into her bedroom. Once inside with the door closed she stopped and closed her eyes. She took in a breath and exhaled deeply. Was this real? Was tonight really happening? Ophelia brushed against her leg and then pawed at the door. “You get free range of the house tonight, girl. But I’ll be right outside.” The black cat didn’t seem to care, as usual. But she sat patiently as Molly gathered the duvet from her bed and an additional blanket and draped them over an arm. With her free hand she grabbed two pillows. She’d grab the couch cushions as well.
In just a few minutes she reappeared out into the living room. Ophelia darted for the kitchen and Molly was sure to keep an eye out on her to make sure she didn’t try to venture to the patio. “Here,” She dropped the blankets and pillows just inside the door before turning to remove the three couch cushions. One by one she brought them out to the patio and created a makeshift bed with the addition of two oversized throw pillows. Before changing, she added the blankets and pillows.
She disappeared once more to her bedroom to change into something a little more comfortable than the jeans and blouse she had been wearing. She opted for a pair of black sweatpants and one of her favorite grey NYU sweatshirts. It wasn’t the most attractive outfit for a sleepover but she was sure Metzli wouldn’t be worried about that. Once she was comfortable she reappeared and slipped back outside, securing the door closed behind her. “Is this comfortable enough? I have more pillows..”
Oh yes, the cat. It was nice to put a name to the pet, and they were curious to see if they would spot her at all through the glass door. At the return of the compliment, the vampire's brows raised and they blinked several times, barely catching her answer. “Of course,” They replied with a single nod. “I will wait here.” Molly's safety was paramount, so naturally, it made sense that she chose to keep the vampire outside. Still, that didn't stop their chest from feeling a weight drop within it. Metzli wasn't disappointed in her answer, they understood. What truly hurt was the reason for it. They couldn't be trusted, no matter if they'd quelled the more feral beast within them.
Because of this, Eloy was slowly giving up on the constant visits to the Red Room, finding that Metzli in their base form was not likely to disobey. It was only by their request that they were sent at all now. Under the guise that they needed to be punished, which Metzli knew would delight Eloy and not raise alarms.
As smart as he was, his ego got in the way, and it blinded him to their true, selfish intention: to prevent them from consciously facing their friends and their own death that would surely follow if Eight-Thirty-Two gave it their all in a fight. Metzli had no doubts that they would. That version of them had the bloodthirst and blind obedience of Metzli before their time in Wicked’s Rest. They lacked the experience in friendship and care that was bestowed upon them by the very people they would have to attempt to kill. Molly was fortunately not a part of that list. Not that it was good that anyone else was, but her being human with no clear advantages against Metzli made it a relief. As long as they managed to keep her existence from Eloy, she would be okay, and they'd eventually be dust. Blowing away like they would in her memory too, in time. They didn't want to be forgotten. They didn't want to die at all. They didn't–Molly returned.
“Oh.” She dropped everything onto the patio and then set to work. Metzli stood there dumbly, unsure how to help and wondering if she had stories about making similar sleeping arrangements in the past. Or maybe she even made forts when she was a kid. They'd have to ask, adding it to the growing list of things they wanted to know.
When she was done, they watched her leave again, returning in something much more comfortable and even more enticing. “H-hi. Um…” Metzli got on their knees and patted the makeshift bed, swallowing hard and giving Molly an approving nod. “Much better than my cot.” Their gaze darted down, and they smiled sheepishly, mumbling as they got comfortable. “Beautiful woman, comfy cushions…I feel lucky.”
“Hi.” Metzli seemed surprised by Molly’s outfit of choice and even… welcomed it? Roger hated when she wore this sweatshirt - he always called it ratty. Which, it wasn’t. It was just an older, well worn sweatshirt from Molly’s father. But around Roger, Molly had always gotten dressed. Sweatpants were only reserved for sick days. It was all really stupid now that she thought about it - the concept of how someone should dress in their own home.
Molly bit down on her lower lip again, fighting a grin as she moved to the makeshift bed. It was actually kind of cozy, this setup on the patio. Her balcony was just big enough to allow for the bed with extra space on each side. She had folded her tiny bistro table and chair and propped it against the wall at their feet prior to their arrival. Though she’d never consider sleeping outside alone, she was kind of excited for this moment with Metzli. In high school Molly would build forts with her sister and father in their living room and on the occasional Friday Molly and Grace were allowed to have a sleepover in said fort. Sometimes they’d drape twinkle lights across the top and pretend to look at the “stars.”
So this bed brought back a feeling of nostalgia mixed with the thrill of creating new memories with someone else - someone new. She climbed down onto her knees and then moved to sit with her legs crossed, sitting across from them. “I feel lucky, too.” And she did. Again, she was grateful that Metzli had offered to come over. For the first time in, well, at least a year, she wasn’t dreading going to bed. Molly’s hand reached for theirs, fingers ready to intertwine, “It feels nice not dreading a night for once. I’m really glad you’re staying.” At least for tonight.
After the tension had settled down, Metzli's confidence had a chance to dwindle. So when Molly found her seat, their posture straightened rigidly, and their eyes blinked a little more forcefully while they looked everywhere but at her. Then Metzli's gaze landed on her hand and they couldn't help but take a deep breath of relief. They looked at Molly sweetly, and slid their hand into hers.
“I am glad I am staying too.” It was staying there or being holed up in a room with seven other vampires while they all waited for their next commands. Being with Molly was eons better than that. At least there Metzli was able to discover more about her, in any way she'd let them.
“If you want, maybe we can do this every evening.” Metzli smiled wanly, scooting closer and offering Molly's hand a soft squeeze. “I rest during the day, and the fights stop around nine o'clock. My slots are usually done before that.” Metzli's visits would have to eventually end once they met theirs. They knew that would cause some sort of discomfort for Molly though, so Metzli added, “If you want. I know my situation is…complicated.”
Molly felt her heart do a little leap as they accepted her hand again. There was almost a distant look in their eyes right before but as they found each other again, Molly smiled back at them. This was one of the first nights in a long time that she had felt so relaxed. And it was surprising given how she felt prior to their arrival.
At an offer to visit more frequently, Molly knew she’d need to weigh her options. On one hand she’d get to see Metzli again and again - at least until… No, not right now. She thought. She enjoyed their presence immensely and it wasn’t just because of the kissing, though that part had been really nice, too. On the other hand, Molly knew she didn’t need to get attached and it wasn’t just because of their supposed fate. Molly was hardly a year out of her marriage, and legally was still married, though they were legally separated. She wasn’t worried about that, no. Molly was worried about throwing herself into another situation, potentially creating a sense of dependency on someone else. She’d barely been alone for a year. It was no question that it might not be good for her to get used to seeing someone again.
But it was only in the evenings. And it wasn’t like she didn’t have other people to see or hang out with. She had drinks with Daniel coming up and Baz had recently invited her out to poetry night. She had been spending more time with Rory and Drew - there were other people in her life now. It’d be fine, she decided.
“I’d like that, a lot.” Molly felt her heart rate increase as she accepted the offer. It was exciting, the thought of seeing them more often. It also meant she could keep tabs on how they were doing and offer comfort. Because, they had said their fights stopped around nine? They deserved a safe place to rest if that was something that they had to endure right now. Molly wanted to offer that space. “I want to get to know you better. I want you to have something to look forward to at the end of the day.” As she spoke she inched closer to them, fighting the urge to drag them with her beneath the covers.
“You…would?” Metzli said breathlessly, eyes widened and teary. They blinked several times, swallowing hard. Molly asked for them to visit, hoped for them to have a piece of hope, but something inside them twisted uncomfortably. Their half-limb ached, Eloy's voice thundering at the back of their mind.
Will is a betrayal. But what did Metzli have to lose now? Their devotion was still with Eloy, and even if they had a moment of refuge, they would willingly return, night after night. They knew their place and they knew their end. Would allowing themself to bend to the will of Molly's desire be so treacherous just because it mixed with theirs so readily? It was a risk to relieve her of her troubles, but it didn't feel like much of one when she sighed with content and smiled like a weight lifted from her heart. Loneliness released its grasp, allowing for Metzli to take her in, if only for the night, and for as many as they were allowed. It was the kindest gift anyone had given them; the chance to feel alive while simultaneously being of some use. Because what worth did they have if they weren't serving someone else's needs?
Metzli trembled, battling with the rites of the clan, and the apathy from knowing their end was on the horizon anyway. Several times, they choked on what to say, mouth opening and closing while they released Molly's hand and massaged their half limb. The anxiety crawled like ants up and down their nerves, biting with each step.
“I want to know you, too.” Finally managed to slip out after several moments, eyes locked tenderly with Molly's, swirls of brown immersing them with warmth. Metzli felt their body sink and they released themself to take Molly's hand again. They were visibly more at ease, catching Molly lingering closer than before. In return, Metzli crept in too, throwing all inhibition aside and tugging Molly into them with little effort.
They fell back, greedily crashing their lips into hers and holding her body against them tightly. “I…I will do my best to be something to look forward to for you.” Metzli whispered with a slight tremble, shuffling the blankets around to shield the both of them. “Just tell me what you need.”
At the sight of teary eyes Molly felt a flat smile creep across her lips. It seemed as though they were feeling a type of way about it, too. Knowing what little she had of their current situation she could only imagine the options they were weighing. They had sworn loyalty, loyalty that ran much deeper than what Molly could understand. Clearly this would be a risk. Sneaking away was enough but forming any sort of bond? Molly didn’t want to make things more complicated for them than she already had.
Though perhaps that was inevitable. They’d been complicated since that night Metzli had saved her on the university’s campus. Molly knew Metzli was processing those complicated feelings as their hand dropped hers and landed on their half limb. There was no way for her to get a good read on the look in their eyes in this dim lighting, only a faint glow from the lamp across the living room to light the way. They could talk about it, or not.
She felt her heart skip as they finally spoke though, releasing their limb to find her hand again. Molly hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath but she sighed as they moved in - tension releasing from her body. At the tug she pressed herself against them and allowed herself to fall against the makeshift mattress with them, a contented sigh escaping from her lips. Molly helped with the blankets as they readjusted yet kept her lips planted against theirs.
Just tell me what you need. Those words echoed inside her head. Had she ever been asked what she needed? Of course she had, in some ways - there was no way she’d made it this long without hearing it. But this wasn’t a surface level ask from Metzli, Molly could tell. And now she didn’t know how to answer. What did she need? Someone to listen, someone to hold her? Someone to show her that it’s okay to be vulnerable, even if only for a short time.. Maybe she didn’t know what she needed. For twenty years she thought she had so maybe right now she didn’t need to think too hard about it. “I just need you to lay here with me,” She finally whispered, fingers intertwined with theirs. The fingers on her other hand were tangled in their hair, pulling them closer as she kissed them again. “To kiss me..” she spoke softly between kisses. “To hold me.. And let me hold you.”
Molly wanted things outside of herself, confusing the vampire a bit. They had asked what she needed, and she provided an answer that included offering comfort to them in some way. At the thought, Metzli's stomach flipped and flopped, and they felt warm. The sensations mixed together so quickly that they had to take a moment, breaking a kiss to simply hover their face closely to Molly's.
In that light, Metzli knew she couldn't see them as clearly as they could her. Her eyes were easy to get lost in, even easier to read. She was naturally selfless, and the answer in her eyes cemented the honesty in what she said. Metzli had only really been held one other time, by another friend. She had wanted to hold them too. Asked for it, as well. Still, Metzli struggled quietly to accept what she had been offering, unsure of what it would do to the greed that was already building. But what other choice was there? Molly said what she needed, and Metzli willingly became a slave to her desire.
“Is that all?” They flipped Molly over to her back, keeping the both of them safe under the blankets. Their hand slipped away from hers to move under the hem of her sweater. A contented sigh escaped them when they caressed her flesh, hand trailing over and up her back. “It is yours.” For that night, Metzli thought. Maybe tomorrow night, too. Maybe even several nights next week.
There was just no way of truly knowing. Metzli was on a clock, but neither of them could possibly know when that hand would strike the end. Perhaps, they thought, that was what made the risk so enticing. The hurt was already there, in plain sight. Both Molly and Metzli could already feel it. They were never meant to, but they had anyway, persisting as any drowned soul would for purchase. They wanted what would be taken, and with the end already surrounding them, they were free to lose themselves in one another.
As their hand reached the hem of her sweater she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on edge. Goosebumps bloomed across her skin as they caressed her back. It had been years since she had been touched like this, in such a way that had her feeling this way. She felt as though she were flying - and all they were doing was softly touching the skin on her back.
“I,” She began softly. Metzli was direct and seemed to do well with direct communication. Though Molly was a huge fan of it, she often had trouble communicating needs and wants - and often completely ignored communicating either for the sake of the other party. It was a problem. Her therapist had pointed it out once and she’d chosen to ignore it. “I don’t know…” she finally admitted. Her hand still rested against the back of their neck and now that her other hand was no longer holding theirs she’d rested it against their chest, above their shirt. God I’m so out of practice she thought to herself.
“I need to take care of myself.” Molly admitted as she repeated words she’d heard over and over for the last thirteen months. “Though I’m not sure that I know what that looks like.” It felt embarrassing to admit something like this, to open oneself to another person like this. As she spoke her eyes met theirs. Their touch against her back was a comfort she hadn’t known for quite some time. It was gentle. Her hand that rested against their chest moved to their face again, thumb slowly caressing their face. “I just want you.”
It was a broad answer, she knew it. But there was a part of Molly that was ready to open herself to them if it meant that she could know comfort and fleeting joy.
“I want you too.” There were many things that Metzli wanted, in reality. They wanted a full life, they wanted a family, they wanted someone to see them completely and not turn away. Molly was the closest thing to that they'd ever been. Because cursed things didn't get a happy ending, and even a moment was temporary. With that in mind, Metzli moved, not caring that their freedom was fleeting.
“We can see what it looks like,” Metzli whispered. “Tell me what you feel and we can talk about it.” They smiled, excited to know Molly, and delve into parts of herself that even she didn't understand. Slowly, they kissed her, and gently, they slid out of their shirt. With Molly's skin pressed against Metzli, they sighed with relief, smiling against her lips.
Moving their hand idly, Metzli let themself roam. They felt at ease despite the tension, experiencing a freedom against Molly's lips. “Tell me everything.” They whispered to Molly, stripping away her sweater and pulling her against them. “And then tell me some more.” Metzli smiled as they spoke, falling toward the twilight and allowing themself to sink into Molly's flesh.
It was such a simple statement and yet it meant so much to Molly. She hadn’t heard that she had been wanted in what felt like years. Sure, maybe it was uttered in passing but if given the opportunity to point it out, Molly wasn’t sure that she could recall a specific time. Hearing it from Metzli sent her into orbit.
As they continued to lay it out for her, quite bare as it seemed as they removed tops, Molly obliged, shimmying out of her sweatshirt. She feared she might get a little cold given the chill in the air and the chill of their skin (due to the whole vampire thing). But she was warmed by their touch - perhaps it was goosebumps causing an adverse affect but she didn’t care.
“I feel…” She spoke slowly, doing her best to actually give thought to what she was feeling as their hand moved across her skin. God, she almost said I feel warm despite being pressed against a vampire. “I feel safe.” Which wasn’t necessarily something she would’ve proclaimed at the beginning of their night. And it wouldn’t have had much to do with who they are, though there was a tiny part of Molly that was nervous. She’d acknowledge it but not honor the feelings because she truly felt safe in this moment. She knew now it was Metzli around tonight and not Eight-Thirty-Two. Her lips found theirs again, pressing a soft but more passionate kiss against their lips. “I feel wanted.” They managed to make her feel like she was worth holding. “The way you press your skin against mine..” She explained carefully. “The way you pull me tighter, telling me you won’t let go.” Their touch was hungry and protective. Molly wasn’t used to being held like that. There was intention instead of obligation.
“You make me feel important.” Though they had only been moving against her for a short time Molly wasn’t concerned about feeling like an afterthought - which was what she’d grown accustomed to. With Metzli’s eyes trained on her she truly felt like the only woman in the world. A part of her was ready to take it a step further and a free hand of hers roamed down their chest slowly - fingers dancing lightly across chiseled skin. As her hand moved her heart rate skyrocketed again, which caused her hand to tremble against skin.
“You are important,” Which felt silly to say, but it seemed like Molly needed the reassurance. It was strange to think she would believe otherwise. Metzli, for their part, laid there, a bit confused as to why Molly would feel the need to proclaim it.
It only took a few moments to think back on the things she had stated earlier. Her desire echoed inside Metzli's head so easily, like they had known it all that time. Without a word, their hand crept sweetly up her arm, patiently coaxing the tremble to ease. She had only ever known one other person, and though Metzli wasn't sure if they were much of one to begin with, they wanted her to know them too. As deeply as she wanted, for however long that lasted.
“I do want you.” Metzli insisted, closing their eyes and letting their hand roam once Molly was eased. Then, without thinking, as fear latched itself into the vampire, they breathed, “Are you…are you sure you want me?” In every way, Metzli was ruined. So ruined that no one–not even themself–wanted them, in any capacity.
It wasn’t until Eloy that Metzli finally belonged, but it would never be in any other way but as a tool. They were a means to an end. What good could they really be if they had failed the one person who had ever loved them? How could anyone else want them? Especially in the way Molly wanted them right then. “Are you sure?” Metzli asked again, their lips hovering above Molly's. There was an edge of desperate longing dripping from their voice. “You are important.” Metzli was not.
It was such a silly thing, hearing someone tell her that she was important, someone that she hadn’t known for long but it nearly brought tears to Molly’s eyes. She’d felt important to someone at one point, someone she thought her world revolved around. There were times when Molly really missed that feeling, she longed to feel important to someone. Perhaps it was selfish of her - she didn’t need to feel that way. It was just nice to be wanted.
“I’m sure.” As Molly spoke she was sure that there was a part of her that was ready to scream that she wasn’t in fact ready to want anyone. It was too soon, she’d tell herself, what if they weren’t who they thought they were, she’d ask, or what if their time was really going to end sooner than they thought? At the rate that she was falling for them, that was sure to leave Molly in a state of disrepair. But no - she couldn’t consider it right now. She couldn’t think with her head. It’d only hurt her own feelings in the now - because right now, she wanted them. With the feeling of their breath against her lips, Molly kept her gaze trapped on them. A hand moved to their face, fingers resting gently against their skin and her thumb gently brushed along a fading scratch. “I’m positive,” She whispered. “I’m positive that I don’t want to regret holding myself back right now just because I’m afraid.” Molly wasn’t afraid of them. She was just afraid of what might happen to her heart in the event of - well, right now the inevitable. “I’m not afraid of you, to be clear,” She was breathless as she spoke, nerves and desire swirling beneath her skin like a cyclone spinning towards the surface. “I want you, right now.” With that she pulled them down to kiss them again, wishing that the chaos of what happened to be their life right now might fade to grey, if only for a night, to be replaced with screaming color.
