He was just sitting there, all the time.
They weren’t as touchy as they had been before and Mollie was evidently still nervous about trying to revive whatever relationship they had had. Frankie didn’t want to think too closely on what exactly they might have changed, or what they had taken out that made things so different. She would have loved to go on thinking that while they were dating Mollie had done nothing more than walk around the park and watch television with the beautiful man that adored her, so she let herself do just that and ignored everything else. Whatever their relationship had been before the accident, it didn’t matter anymore. It didn’t change the fact that Mollie and David were very careful around each other now, yet despite the cool nature of their bond Frankie still felt herself seething in his presence.
Frankie didn’t understand the hatred she found herself feeling quite a lot of the time. She hadn’t disliked David at all before the accident – she’d even quite liked the man, with his easy smiles and cheeky attitude that complemented Mollie so well – yet now it was a constant struggle to smile at him and pretend that she didn’t mind him sitting next to Mollie or simpering into her face. It wasn’t just his presence, though; she actually hated very specific aspects of the guy’s personality. She frequently found her gaze drawn over to the pair, watching them with nasty eyes and zoning in on every movement he made toward her while resentment bubbled in her stomach like acid. It was only made worse by how much effort she could see Mollie putting in to make him happy. Frankie just wanted Mollie to relax and think about herself for a while, not run back into David’s needy arms.
She wanted to tell herself that was the reason behind her behaviour over the next few weeks and why she acted so uncharacteristically, but she knew the truth; she was jealous, and not only because of what she knew she felt toward the older girl. She’d been with Mollie so closely, felt so connected and perfectly in synch with her that it was physically uncomfortable to be separated now. They hadn’t been so close, not ever, and now that David was back in her mind and her space it was becoming impossible to have time to themselves.
Like when she sat in the flat in the evenings – Frankie and Mollie’s flat. Theirs, not his. They were the ones that lived together, though he didn’t seem to be able to realise that fact.
“Do you want a cuppa, Frankie?” David called out from the kitchen, as he fixed Mollie a cup of tea. He sent her a friendly smile over the box of tea bags, raising a questioning eyebrow.
“No,” she said shortly. “Thanks.”
He looked surprised, but shrugged a little and simply continued. A few minutes later, when he returned, it seemed that he was unable to simply hand Mollie’s the mug; he had to sit right beside her on the couch and ease it into her fingers like she couldn’t grip it properly otherwise. “There you go,” he said absently, before settling into the couch and returning her eyes to the television.
Mollie took a careful sip. “Hmm,” she said. She sounded mildly surprised. “How I like it, too. Thanks, David.”
It wasn’t hard, Frankie thought. Mollie didn’t like sugar in her tea, just milk; it wasn’t rocket science.
“Oh, here,” David said suddenly, and reached up to tug Mollie’s collar into place for her. They shared a brief smile before looking back to the screen, Mollie still sipping at her tea and leaning onto the armrest.