Emerson snaked an arm around Molly’s warm body, lazily smiling as his heart rate returned to something a bit more normal. She was beautiful, someone he could only dream of. One glance at her made him wonder why on earth she stuck around with him for so long. Of course they were getting to that answer and even though he’d kill to believe that someone like her could love him, Emerson was still wary as to how long she’d stick around. “I want you here too,” he murmured, turning his head to kiss her forehead. A deep blush spread across his cheeks and down his neck when she called his nerves to the curtain. “I’m…yeah..sorry about that,” he muttered, glancing over and smiling at her. “I do love you. I was embarrassed. In case you..you know…didn’t feel the same way.” But she did! Molly loved him back! Pulling her even closer, Emerson crushed his lips down on hers to express the truthfulness of his words, “I love you,” he reminded her once more. “I do, I do.”
Molly snuggled into Emerson’s embrace, unable to keep the smile off of her face. Emerson felt so good. He made her feel happy. Unbelievably so, in fact. She never wanted anybody else, could never understand how on earth she had gotten lucky enough to find someone like Emerson. He was special, that much she knew. More than that. Amazing. Molly settled more comfortably against him, her head in the hollow of his shoulder. Emerson was always warm, but after their sex (lovemaking?) session his skin held that little bit of extra heat. It warmed her up as well as putting a smile on her face. As he spoke again and pressed his lips against her forehead, she quickly reached up to tug on one of his curls. Molly loved him, of course, but sometimes he could be so dense. She’d never stuck around with somebody for this long without good reason. And Emerson was definitely a good reason. He was one of the best things that ever happened to her. ”Of course I do, stupid.” She grinned crookedly, looking up at him. How could she not love Emerson? It was impossible to feel anything else. And the funny thing was, she didn’t realize how fast and how hard she had fallen up until this point. Emerson was so good. “I love you too,” she replied, kissing him quickly. And she’d love him forever if he’d keep her.
Emerson grinned over at Molly and nodded his head. “You’re always welcome,” he murmured, nodding his head to her. It was true. She’d always get some type of welcome from her when she got him. Because he missed her so, he had to. “I’ll always be here, then.” Emerson couldn’t imagine notbeing home for her when she walked through the door. Sure there thing was usually just sex, there was something comforting about someone in bed with you, to curl up with, to just…have. Upon her question, though, Emerson paused. His breathing even stopped. What was she-oh. Oh. It dawned on him quickly. I love you so much, hadn’t that been what he said? Chewing his lip, Emerson tried to resume his usual manner but knew it was impossible. She’d caught him. He’d…caught himself, really, with his feelings. He hadn’t even been sure of them up until apparently the moment when that word slipped through. Sure, he’d said he liked her before. Never love. “Ummm..” he thought, trying to cover it up. Why, though? There was no reason. She knew. Emerson was worried she wouldn’t feel the same. “I-yes. Yes, I did.” Why would pretty Molly feel the same with him? She probably used him as her replacement dildo. Staring at the ceiling, blushing, Emerson tapped his fingers on top of his other hand. “I love you, Molly.” He couldn’t look at her and see the opposite feelings. Disgust. Nope.
Molly smiled back at Emerson, reaching over to touch his chest. She moved a little closer, the happy feeling keeping the smile on her face. “Glad to hear it.” It was always nice to come home to somebody, to have someone to lie in bed with. Sex was just a bonus, if you really thought about it. She liked just…having Emerson around. Knowing that he’d be there when she woke up, or if she needed somebody to talk to. It was important. “I want you here.” She really did. If Emerson were to ever leave her…well, that wouldn’t be good. But Molly didn’t want to think about sad things. Besides, she had a question that needed answering, now. And then Emerson responded, and her heart skipped a beat. So he had meant it. Molly took a moment to think that over. What she really wanted was to let out a shout of triumph. He loves me!! was what was going through her head at that moment. But that would probably ruin the atmosphere. So instead Molly propped herself up on one elbow, looking at Emerson. “I’ll believe it more when you actually look at me while saying it,” she said with a teasing tone. “I love you too, Emerson.” It was true. She loved him, and he loved her.
Once Molly had come, looking so beautiful, Emerson let himself settle inside her for a moment, enjoying her warmth. His lips dragged across her skin, adding pressure in various places. He kissed underneath her jaw, humming happily now that he was spent, and gently nuzzled into Molly’s hand. Emerson pulled out as he rolled over onto his back, panting just a little. “Welcome home, Molly,” he confirmed her statement with a smile. Fingers brushing over her cheek, he bit his lip. She was so gorgeous and he felt a bit sad as he covered them up with the comforter, trying to stay warm. “I really did miss you all day, and it wasn’t just because I wanted this.” He didn’t want Molly thinking he was only thinking about one thing with her. He…didn’t want to believe it was that way. But it was. However hard Emerson was trying to deny that. “It’s quiet around here without you,” he attempted to rationalize verbally.
Coming down was always something with Emerson. It felt almost disappointing after the sex they had shared. But he was so good to her. Molly tilted her head slightly, giggling as Emerson kissed her neck. She let out a slight whimper when Emerson pulled out, immediately moving closer to his warmth. “Thank you, Emerson.” Molly smiled and snuggled deeper under the comforter, grateful for the warmth. ”I missed you too. And it’s nice to come home to somebody.” She liked knowing that Emerson was waiting for her. The sex was an obvious bonus, of course, but there was also something…more. She wanted Emerson to be there, always had a little fear that he would be gone when she got home. And there was another question buzzing at the back of her mind. It wasn’t the idea time to ask, of course, considering that they had just finished, but Molly had always been direct. ”So…does that mean you actually…meant what you said?” She knew Emerson would understand what she was talking about. They hadn’t said the l-word yet, so even in the heat of the moment it felt like a big deal. Now that they had calmed down, Molly wanted answers.
A wanton growl exploded from Emerson when Molly bit his neck and all he could think about was how the mark would only serve as a reminder to him and anyone else who saw it that he was Molly’s. And no one else’s. He quickened his pace even more, his thrusts pumping in and out evenly and persistent. So close to coming undone, Emerson reached down, tried coaxing her hand out of the way, and too over for her. This was his doing, anyway, he wanted to make her feel good. He didn’t want her having to do anything. His long fingers touching at her clit with what he knew to be the right amount of pleasure. He knew exactly what made his girlfriend melt in underneath him and that’s what he intended on doing as he buried deep inside her for a few more times before a deep moan rumbled in his chest. “Oh God, Molly,” he panted before pressing in as far as he could and came, fully inside her. He jerked his hips forward, their bodies inching up the mattress from the strength, as he tried to coat her as best he could, his finger focusing on deepening the attention to her sensitive clit.
With the way things were going, Molly knew she wouldn’t last much longer. Emerson was making her feel far too good; she could barely contain herself. With a soft growl, Molly bucked her hips up. The feel of Emerson’s fingers on her clit only made her louder; she really hoped the neighbours weren’t home. It wouldn’t be the first time they had gotten a noise complaint, but…well, the fact remained. Emerson made her melt in the most delicious way. Molly could feel the heat pooling in her, and it was only a matter of time before Emerson’s fingers made her come undone. “E-Emerson-!” She cut herself off as she came hard, feeling every inch of Emerson inside her. “Fuck…” She felt completely blissed out as the pleasure faded. With a slight laugh, Molly dragged her fingers through Emerson’s hair. “Okay. That was a good welcome home,” she murmured.
Emerson took time to kiss Molly’s neck and leave a mark. She was his and that’s what her body was going to scream tomorrow. Hips thrusting deep inside her, Emerson quickened his pace just a bit to add more friction, releasing a moan as his cock seemed to harden even more in response. As his cock buried deep inside her more and more, Emerson bite down rather hard on Molly’s neck, bringing a hand down to her hip to bounce her down as best he could. He literally could not get enough of this girl. Her fingernails going down his back only made him pull back and whimper, liking the feel of the scratches, despite how much he could feel them. He’d love seeing them in the mirror tomorrow before his shower. “Unh,” he whined, “I love you so much.” There was only so little he could say that would describe how he was feeling right now. She was just so amazing with how he could fit so perfectly inside her. Emerson pulled in and out, now, with a sort of eagerness, hips bouncing back and forth rather quickly now as he threw his head back, crying out her name. This was something most guys only dreamed about, but as a hand slid up her torso to grope her breast, Emerson couldn’t be more thankful that he had her. These were his fantasies. Only he lived them. “Molly,” he warned, growing closer and closer to filling her up with everything he had.
Molly let out a moan as she felt Emerson’s teeth on her neck. She was going to feel this tomorrow. Part of her wanted Emerson to feel the same way. He was hers, just like she was his, and she wanted to show it. Kissing down his neck, Molly left a bite on the spot where Emerson’s shoulder met his neck. It showed up nicely on his pale skin, and she knew the mark would stay for days. She let out a soft growl against his skin, bucking her hips in time with his. Emerson made her feel so good, and there was no way she could ever have somebody else now. Emerson seemed to confirm it out loud a few moments later. Hearing that made her pause for a moment, but she brushed it off. They didn’t feel the need to talk like that. Why would he start now? Molly felt too good to breech the subject right now anyway. She reached down with her free hand, fingers circling around her clit to add an extra burst of pleasure. She was completely beyond talking now, simply moaning and moving in time with Emerson. It wouldn’t last much longer if they kept up this pace, not with the way Molly was feeling. She knew Emerson much be feeling the same way, from the way he was pushing her into the bed. The feel of his hand only increased her pleasure, and she suddenly felt warm. “Emerson,” she moaned, bucking her hips.
“Yeah,” Emerson smirked, “Whatever, Molly.” No need to finish their conversation. He was hard and needy and there was no way he wanted to focus on some silly conversation now. Besides, Molly was far to pretty underneath him, and he was dying to come undone because of her. She was perfect. Felt so good. As he bent down to press his lips to her jaw, he moaned, hot and anxious.
His eyes followed her hand to her breast and Emerson let out a whimper. He’d seen her touch herself before, more heavily than that, but the movement indicated to him that she was dying to get this going, wanted him to fill her up. When her lips found his, he pressed his tongue in, mirroring the actions of his lower half. With her legs wrapped around his waist, Emerson nestled in as far as he could go, gasping when he bottomed out. His lips pulled away from hers to run along her neck, burying into the soft, warm spot. When he knew she was used to him (because let’s be honest, it didn’t take that long, what with how often they did this), Emerson rolled his hips, the prelude to his hard, deliberate thrusts. “Molly,” he moaned, “you feel so good.” It was the truth. The warm, rhythmic friction was driving him crazy, coaxing him to shudder. A deep noise rumbled in his chest as raked a hand through her hair, the other gripping at her side. the bed flowed, and Emerson silently thanked their apartment for having an outside wall; the neighbors wouldn’t like the pounding. Glancing down at Molly, Emerson’s jaw went slack from pure pleasure and beauty. She was all his, and dammit, when he leaned down to suck on her neck he was going to make that statement clear.
Molly let out a soft moan, keeping her eyes on Emerson’s face. She loved the way he looked while he was fucking her. And she kissed him back with a renewed energy, her tongue catching his. The rhythm was sending shivers down her spine, making her moan into Emerson’s mouth. She rolled her hips in time with his, fingers trailing over her chest. Molly tightened her grip on his waist, holding him there for a moment. She wanted to feel him even after he was done. Waking up just a little sore the next day only served to remind her how good they had it. How much she enjoyed every second of being with Emerson. He was better than good, better than anyone else she’d been with. Molly couldn’t get enough of him, and she doubted she ever would. “You feel amazing,” she murmured, dragging her nails down his back. Wanting to see him all marked up, she pressed them in a little harder, leaving a line of marks on his skin. They’d both be feeling this tomorrow. Molly didn’t mind, though. She tilted her head back, exposing a little more of her skin. Emerson’s mouth felt good, no matter where it was, and she loved the attention he was giving her. It was amazing, to say the least.
“it’s true…I can’t live without you,” Emerson murmured to Mary, a smile forming across his mouth. It was true. She was something else. He made her happy and he was far too selfish to ever share her or leave her. She was his and that was definitely made clear. “You like my dick, too, don’t you dare,” he smirked. Emerson was honestly stilled amazed they were still talking. Not that he really minded…because he knew that they wouldn’t be able to talk for much longer. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll learn to give a massage when you learn to shave for me,” Emerson remarked with a small laugh. If she knew which shaving he meant then she’d get why he laughed.
Helping Molly spread her legs, Emerson moaned as he felt her hot sex around his tongue. If she wanted more, she’d get more, and if Molly wanted to tug his hair, so be it, because she knew that was such a turn on for him. Her juices bathed his chin and when his hands gripped her legs, his eyes looking up to lock onto hers, Emerson felt his erection harden even more, begging to be touched. Emerson kept his head between her legs until he felt he was going to explode, he pressed as close as he could get and the smell of musk filled his nose as his tongue circled her. A whimper escaped him as he felt the need to thrust into her and when he knew he couldn’t wait any longer, Emerson pulled away, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Raising onto his knees, Emerson crawled up towards Molly and pulled his underwear off, aligning up with her as he kissed the spot between her breasts. Licking his fingers quickly, he touched himself for preparation and then thrust into her with a thick cry of her name. “Fuck, Molly,” he moaned as he felt himself push in deeper.
"You need me," she agreed. Then again, Molly needed Emerson too. He made her feel good, better than anyone else had. They might not be the most conventional couple, but Molly enjoyed being with Emerson all the same. She was selfish enough to hold onto him, and he was all hers. "For some strange reason." She laughed, shaking her head slightly. Emerson was great in bed, (or couch, or kitchen counter, or car…) no doubt about it. "Keep making comments like that, and you won’t get anything at all," she retorted. The feel of his mouth soon shut her up, however. Emerson always knew how to make her come undone, and Molly loved every second of it. She kept her hand in his hair, almost directing him.
Molly rolled her hips slightly, looking down at Emerson. She brought her free hand up to her chest, cupping one breast. She ran her thumb over a nipple, the bud hardening. Seeing him look at her like that only made it all the better. Emerson knew just what she liked, and Molly loved that. But when he finally pulled away, she whimpered softly. The disappointment didn’t last long, of course, because of what was coming next. She waited, perhaps a little impatiently, as Emerson got his boxers off and prepared himself. Get on with it, she thought. Saying it out loud would only start something else. As Emerson pushed into her, Molly let out a cry and arched her back slightly. She ground her hips against his, roughly pulling him up to kiss her. Molly spread her legs a little wider in order to allow Emerson to get deeper. She wanted to feel all of him, wanted to feel nothing but Emerson. “You’re so amazing,” she murmured. Molly wrapped her legs around Emerson’s waist, pulling him deeper. He felt so good, and she wanted more of it.
“I don’t need a hobby. Jerking off was doing wonders for me until you came along, thank you, and I realized you were better. So tough. Looks like you get my version of a welcome home greeting.” Chuckling, Emerson tugged, gently of course, a strand of her hair, and quirked an eyebrow. “I’ve never heard you complain before, either.” But now was not the time for talking. Emerson had things he wanted to do. To Molly, especially. Because who didn’t like hearing their -was she?-girlfriend get loud in bed? It was probably one of Emerson’s favorite sounds in the world. So screw conversation. There were other things to be hearing and Emerson wanted to get to those parts now.
“That’s a shame,” he found himself unable to comment back at her, “because I’m not a massus.” The hand in his hair felt good and Emerson could feel her sex wet against her underwear. She groped him and he choked back a moan, settling on tugging her t shirt off, his following soon after. Emerson took his hands as he straightened up and cupped them over Molly’s breasts, thumbing over her nipples and bending down to kiss her. He shuddered when he felt himself harden just a bit more as he lightly squeezed his hands, groping her and praying she’d rip off his jeans. Whenever she was going to, though, Emerson couldn’t wait, and began unzipping himself shrugging quickly out of the tight fabric, whimpering when his cock was near free. His hard on pulsed deeply, begging to be payed attention to but he knew they’d be doing more before they got to the real stuff. Kissing down her collarbone, Emerson released her and began mouthing lightly at one of her nipples. His fingers ran up and down her thighs again, dying to take off those panties and finger her. He held back, only for just a moment as he kissed down her to her belly button, past that, only to slip the underwear off easily. His brown eyes glanced up at her before slipping his head between her legs. His hands guided her hips down a bit before he spread her legs, eyes glazing over with anticipation, almost hunger. Pressing close, Emerson let his warm tongue circled her entrance, meeting her heat.
"Exactly. You can’t live without me, so now you need something to do in your spare time." Molly smirked, tilting her head slightly. She liked talking during sex, but that probably wasn’t the time for this. Not with the way Emerson was looking at her. If things followed the usual pattern, she wouldn’t really be able to form words soon enough anyway. Emerson was just that good, and she couldn’t get enough of him. "It’s really hard to complain when you’ve got a dick in your mouth." But she really didn’t mind. Emerson was good on so many different levels, and Molly loved it. So maybe she had to sacrifice a few after-work naps in order to keep Emerson happy. It was all worth it in the end, especially when Emerson was with her.
"I still maintain that you can be taught." Molly tugged gently on Emerson’s hair, curling her fingers through the strands. It was soft, gently curled. Perfect for pulling, if the mood struck. Looking at him, he really was perfect. Still, her thoughts had to take a detour as Emerson started getting rougher. This was the part she liked most, and Molly could give as good as she got. She helped Emerson pull her shirt off, suppressing a chill as the cool air hit her skin. But then the coolness was replaced by warmth, and Emerson’s hands were right there. Molly let out a noise of pleasure at the touch to her nipples, moaning into Emerson’s mouth. She kissed him back fervently, scrambling to undo his jeans and get them off. She wanted him, needed something to quell the ache between her legs. But waiting was half the battle, and it made the prize that much sweeter. And she was ready for a little attention, judging by the way Emerson was moving. As always, his mouth was warm. She curled a hand into his hair again, gently stroking through his curls. Molly wanted to spread her legs for Emerson, wanted to feel him drive into her again and again. But she waited, moved her legs when he needed her to. And then his tongue was there and Molly let out a gasp, her grip tightening momentarily. “More,” she breathed.
Emerson gave a sigh of relief when he saw Molly walk through the door. So maybe he needed to get off and he just liked using her as the relief factor, but that didn’t matter to him. He did like Molly. And they were good together. As far as hooking up, anyway. Grinning at her, he walked over right as she made it through the door. “Hey,” he murmured, brushing some hair away from her neck and kissing the tender skin, “I’ve missed you all day.” Slipping a hand down her arm, he intertwined their fingers and tugged her gently to the bedroom. She was so pretty, always was and now he had her for the rest of the night. Even as they got to the bedroom, Emerson was aching with anticipation. Time to get this show on the road. He pressed her down onto the bed, a smirk on his face as he straddled her hips and bent down to kiss her mouth with a fervent passion. His tongue pressed against her lips, coaxing them open, brushing along the curve of her bottom lip. Emerson moaned, hands sliding down her torso, against her wonderful curves.
Bringing a hand down to her jeans, Emerson popped the button and undid the zipper. His cock was already hard, practically throbbing with want for her warmth. Emerson moaned again, grinding down on her to get some sort of friction against his jeans. Hands finding a way to get her jeans off, he trailed his fingers up and down her creamy soft legs, hiking them up to frame his hips. He kissed her with a deep force, wanting to hear her say his name and beg for more. A soft grope of her ass through her panties made his eyes shut and when his hands went to the front part of her underwear, he teasingly fingered the fabric near her entrance. “You want this, hmm?” he asked, practically knowing the answer.
Molly had barely gotten through the door of her apartment when she felt hands on her. Emerson. It was always him, and he somehow never got bored of jumping her. Besides, it wasn’t like she got tired of this. After work, sometimes you needed to do a little…unwinding. Emerson was the perfect stress reliever. “You’re so impatient.” Molly brushed her fingers down Emerson’s cheek, licking her lips. “That’s because you never do anything with yourself while I’m gone,” she replied with a laugh. “You need a hobby besides jerking off.” Still, his touches were nice. Emerson’s always were. Even if this wasn’t…whatever it should be, he was always sweet. Molly appreciated that. She followed him to the bedroom, oddly eager, squeezing his hand. She smiled up at him as he pressed her down onto the bed, running her fingers down his arm.
As Emerson started undressing her, Molly did what she could to help. And Emerson was already hard…he must have been dying for this. She bucked up against him, wanting something to help with the heat she was starting to feel. Emerson was the only one who made her like this. “No, I want a foot massage,” Molly told him, expression completely sarcastic. After a moment she tangled a hand in his curls, laughing softly. Emerson always felt good to her. Especially his hands. His fingers were long and there was so much he knew how to do…it was good enough to spend a hell of a lot of time with him. Molly bucked her hips gently, wanting more of the feeling. Emerson knew how to make her feel good. He was (quite probably) her favourite person to have sex with. Something in them just seemed to…click. And she wanted to make him feel as good as he made her feel, so she dragged her nails down his chest, moving to the front of his jeans. Molly smiled teasingly, kissing him back as she groped him through his jeans. He might be the one to have his way with her, but Molly knew she could make him just as needy.
Emerson gripped the fabric inside his pockets, trying to block out the tears that were threatening to escape. He was going to stop crying. He was going to do it. He just had to concentrate on Molly’s voice, her words. That was all he had to do. He didn’t like feeling this way! Oh my God, it was almost torture! He felt oddly vulnerable right now and he wasn’t so sure he liked that. He was going to fix himself. That small falter was not going to be the end of this. He wouldn’t let it. He was such a fucking contradiction. He wanted to feel but at the same time he didn’t. He wanted it but he’d fight against it til the very end. No one could really stop him. Except Molly, maybe. She had a way with her words. Maybe it was because she was a girl. Whatever it was, Emerson was going to have to fight extra hard against her.
“Well…I’ll see if he recovers, then, yes? I’ll check on him later tonight. If he hasn’t made much progress then I guess I’m stuck with a girl who shouldn’t be so confident in her words.” There. He was getting back to normal now. He could sort of feel it. Though the throbbing was still in his chest. He just had to ignore it and it would go away. Things went away if you ignored them. It was just so weird to Emerson! This thing that Mason and Molly had! She cared so much for him and she was also fighting it all very fiercely. Some part of him wondered what it would be like to kiss her. Would it feel like it had with Mason? A surrender? Or would it be one of her own fire? Anger? Would she shove him? He’d probably try it another day, though. He had made his promise to Mason and he wasn’t going to break it. Not at all.
Some part of him felt strange, though, after that weird semi break down. He didn’t really like the place he was in mentally. He felt dwindled down and a bit weak. How could anyone handle this and actually like it? He felt suffocated by the dash of loneliness he was feeling, unable to breathe. Definitely not a good thing. There was a weight on his chest now and it was literally getting a bit harder to breathe. He nibbled his lip, feeling anxious for really no reason at all. Emerson did not like this. These…things…that were going on seemed oddly familiar. Back before the institution. It was uncomfortable, hated, familiar territory.
Bringing his hands to his forehead, Emerson shook his head and kicked the water. “How can they make him so strong though!? How, Molly?! I do not get it and I don’t think I ever will! I watch him and it makes no sense at all! I just-” he broke off. He didn’t know what he wanted to say really. He was thinking of Mason in his room now. Had he pulled his jeans up, yet? Was he praying he’d die? Was he wishing for something familiar? Maybe…he’d bring Molly into the room. Maybe. It depended on his mood, really. Right now he was close to being tempted but decided against it. At least for today. He glanced over at Molly, something new almost glinting in his eyes, as he watched her go through her thoughts. He was something to this girl, she was something to him. He didn’t want to believe that they were strong because of it. He was jealous. He wouldn’t admit jack shit. Never.
Molly was probably upset with Emerson. Angry? He wasn’t sure. She was quite good at hiding her emotions and thoughts. She wasn’t nearly as much of an open book as Mason was. All the more reason to think that Mason was the better choice. Emerson wouldn’t change that plan for the world. He made the decision and he thought it to be perfect. Mason was perfect for this. Emerson needed to stop losing sight of his goal. He was just going to observe Mason’s emotions. He was going to maybe learn a thing or two about what Emerson’s were. He had to stop this…wanting to feel and like it and he needed to stop getting tied up in Molly and Mason. Getting too close to them would be bad. Horrible. A fault in the plot, of course.
“No one would work to love me. Love can’t save me or anything else. No matter how beautiful you make it out to be, Miss Molly. I’m sorry.” But the mention of Mason’s name. That he would love Emerson. He took a deep breath and shut his eyes. Not believing it for one minute. No one loved Emerson. No one. He was alone. Used to be comfortable and fine with that. He never had this…want to have someone. He didn’t need it. He shouldn’t think Mason loving him to be appealing. Inching away from Molly, Emerson shook his head violently, almost scoffed. “You’re lying! I have done so many horrible things to him. He can’t love me. He won’t. He never will.” Shaking his head, Emerson muttered through his teeth, “I like you, Molly, don’t go and ruin it by lying to me.” He bit his tongue, not sure why, but her lying about Mason loving him was like taunting a cat with fish and having no intent on giving the fish away. “That’s the worst thing you can do. Don’t doubt I won’t change my plans if you lie to me. So don’t lie.”
Molly watched Emerson, a determined expression on her face. She could crack that shell. If not her, than Mason. Somebody had to get through to Emerson. People weren’t all bad. Mason had taught her that, had taught her to see that there was always a good side. However small it might be. In bad situations, even the tiniest things became blessings. And right now, Molly knew they needed to count those. Especially in Mason’s case. Where was he now? In Emerson’s room? After…no, she couldn’t think about that, couldn’t think about Mason being so violated. He was by no means a virgin, but he still retained a modicum of innocence. He fucking radiated it. That’s part of why she loved him so much. Even after all that had happened, Mason could still be so good. So beautiful. Molly loved it, as much as she could. Mason was perfect. Nothing could ruin that.
So how could she help him? How was she supposed to save her best friend? There had to be something. She had to get through somehow. Right now, she just wanted to see him. Mason needed her, perhaps more than she needed him. She could give him some kind of comfort, especially in such an alien situation. Mason needed familiarity. So she had to be good for Emerson. She had to play his sick games and pretend to enjoy it. Then, he might reward her. He might let her see Mason. And she knew how it would happen. Mason would light up seeing her. Through all those tears, he’d smile. She could almost picture it, and that’s what hurt the most. Because everything had two sides. And when she could see a smile, she could also see pain. Fear. And that didn’t look good on Mason. He needed to always be happy. That smile of his could light up an entire room.
But Emerson didn’t know that. He had only seen the bad side. The tears, the fear. Maybe even a bit of anger. Mason was capable of all that, and more. Emerson just had to see. He had to know that Mason was more than just his volatile emotions. Mason was a human being, just like everybody else. He was just better at loving. Better at caring. And best of all, forgiving. Mason could forgive any fault. But how could she explain that? What could she do to convince Emerson?
"He’s strong. He knows hurt. He knows how to recover from it. He can get better! He always bounces back. It’s impossible to keep him down for long. You don’t get it, do you? You think you can just break him. Watch him shatter into a million pieces, and then observe as he tries to put himself back together. But it won’t work like that. Mason might cry. He might scream. But he can never break. He’s too good for that. He can always find a bright side. He can heal himself. He’s so damn good it’s intoxicating, but you. Don’t. See!" It was frustrating, almost. Molly knew frustration. At herself, mostly. Frustration that she wasn’t like all the other girls, that she couldn’t feel things the way they could.
But she was also frustrated at the world. How could such a terrible place hold such wonderful things? Mason didn’t deserve to live in a place like this. He belonged somewhere safe, somewhere peaceful. If it was up to her, she would have hidden him away a long time ago. He needed somewhere the world couldn’t hurt him. Poor, sad, sweet Mason. Who was so innocent, so trusting. It hurt her to think that Emerson was just toying with him. It wasn’t fair! Why did Mason have to be hurt like this? Molly knew she’d change his place any day. She’d put some random stranger through the torment instead of her Mason. Not her best friend. He had to be kept safe. Strong. He needed someone who could love him as much as he loved them. Someone like him. Molly knew she wasn’t that person. Emerson sure as hell wasn’t that person either. So who would it be? Who could possibly fix her best friend? That was it. If they ever got out alive, she’d find the sweetest girl she could and set Mason up. He needed someone like him. Someone to love.
How could he think her a liar? Hadn’t he seen Mason? Didn’t he know how good that boy was? How wonderful? “I’m not lying,” Molly said. Deep down, she knew it to be true. If Emerson just eased up a little (okay, a lot) then Mason would come around. He’d open right up. He’d cooperate. It was simple enough to figure out. Mason responded to kindness. He could trust people who were nice to him. That was just what made Mason, Mason. He was naive, sure, but he was also unbearably kind. Too forgiving, some might say. But that was what Molly loved. Mason could love somebody unconditionally, as long as something was returned. He could absolve you of any crimes, as long as you were nice to him. And that was what was special about him. Molly loved Mason, loved that he was so good. It made her happy, more than anything. “I don’t think you understand.”
No, Emerson definitely didn’t. How could he? How could he hope to even fathom exactly who Mason was? Emerson thought he knew, but that’s what made him ignorant. “You don’t understand, because you don’t really know Mason. He’s the sweetest, kindest person I’ve ever met. It doesn’t matter what you’ve done, or what you’ll do. He’ll love you. That’s the best thing about him. He can love unconditionally. He just needs something in return. An ounce of kindness. Some shred of hope. If you give him that, he’ll give so much more. Mason’s special. People like that don’t come around very often. And you’re trying to break him. Make him irreparable. But you won’t just stop to see.” She clenched her hands into fists. How could she convince Emerson? He had to know. He had to see how good, how pure Mason was. “Just one chance. Just be nice to him for one night. You’ll see. He can be good. Kind. And he’s such a wonderful person. He can find the bright side in anything. He can help you!”
She didn’t exactly know where that last statement came from. But clearly somewhere deep down she had a feeling. Something was wrong with Emerson. Something had happened to him. What was it Mason had said? They’d been watching something on TV. Frankenstein, she thought. Or maybe Mason had been reading. But that wasn’t important. Monsters aren’t born, he had said thoughtfully, they’re made. Yes, it had been Frankenstein’s monster. The monster, who had originally just been so misunderstood. He had spoken French, had liked to read, was gentle to a fault (so much like Mason!). But people hated him for what he was on the outside, and only then had he turned to rage. Maybe Emerson was like that. Molly knew Mason liked metaphors. But this? It was so much more. So much more was at stake.
She just knew that Emerson would have to see. He couldn’t be blind forever. Just one night. That was all she wanted.