Ashes, Ashes

Chatter

- c h a p t e r   t w e n t y   n i n e -

To say that Emma was desperate would be like saying her life was only mildly messed up, only fractured instead of in a shattered pile. She had transcended her need for meaningless talk just to have another human beside her and giving her at least partial attention. Emma needed someone who legitimately cared, someone who would listen.

No one at Baker Street, aside from Florenz (but only if he was in a good mood, of course), would ever spend more than a moment to listen to what she truly desired to say. Their own lives were busy, their own lives were cracked, their own lives mattered to them the most and more.

That, of course, meant that Emma was required to desert her flat in order to find someone to converse with. She refused to head off to another bar, hoping that some man might actually find her attractive enough to listen to her. She knew, inwardly, that no man who was interested in her attractiveness would ever give a damn about what she had to say.

Emma had been lost when she found out there was no where for her to head off to. Most of the places she would normally retreat to ended up being out of her reach. She wished that she could have her Maddie back, if only for a few moments...but Maddie had never existed, and therefore it would be impossible to regain the relationship they used to have with another before everything went awry.

But Maddie was far from the only friend that Emma had managed to find herself in quite a mess with. No, she'd only managed to destroy the very foundation of Molly's life.

And that was precisely why Emma couldn't exactly place her finger on why she was allowing herself to go to St. Bart's to visit her once best friend. There were multitudes of reasons why this could end up going even further south than it already was to begin with, but Emma tried not to thin kof those.

As much as Molly deserved to use her own voice, she'd always been quite the listener. Every time Emma had needed to say something in the past, Molly had been willing to sit there and hear it all through. No one else in Emma's life had ever offered such a thing...well, at least, not in such a consistent and kind manner.

But as soon as Emma found herself in the same building as Molly, a strong urge to run away pushed through her. She didn't want to stand there and wait for everything to fall apart before her eyes. For all she knew, Molly still hated her for all she'd done.

Emma forced herself to move past these thoughts - as much as she didn't want to have Molly furious with her, she didn't want to be alone even more. She walked through the building in a faze until she finally made it to the same room as the woman with her hair up in a mousy brown ponytail.

"Emma, what are you doing here?"

"I...I needed to speak to someone. I decided that you would be the best person to speak with, after everything...I know you might not agree with me on that, but..."

"Is that all?" Molly asked, tilting her head. "You just needed to speak with someone?"

"When you say it that way, you make it sound so...so simple. It's not like that, it's like...I..."

"Are you here because you want to talk, or because you want to talk to me, Emma?" Molly said, forcing herself to become firm. "I need to know why you're here, Emma."

"Both," Emma replied. "I've been trying to speak to so many people, but...but...I think you're the only one who actually knows a thing about me. I swear. No else cares to look past whatever I'm wearing."

Molly remained silent, and Emma wasn't sure if she wanted to think through why Molly was acting in such a manner. There were all too many reasons for her silence, a large percentage of those reasons fitting the doom that Emma had been expectin when she came along.