Love Like Wildfire

Chapter IV

   The shower was a Godsend. While she wasn't particularly sure just how long she stayed beneath the scalding spray of the showerhead, it worked wonders on her headache and sore muscles. She could feel her calves and thighs just melting, the result of a magnitude of dancing she had to have done last night. She ran her fingers through her hair, thankfully less tangled than perusual all because of Mollie, and while her body was warming in the steamy bathroom, she was positive she would have shivered otherwise at the thought of the blonde's fingers running over her scalp.

   It took a while, but she got around to washing herself. The water became slightly muddy with the amount of makeup and zombie blood that ran off her limbs, and she scrubbed at her eyes were she was sure there was drudge marks from her mascara and eyeliner. She had said that Mollie looked awful but she was sure she herself looked ten times worse. Mollie was lucky to get away without hangovers. Frankie... not so much.

   Deciding it was time to leave the comfort of the shower, she turned the handles and grabbed a towel off the towel rack on the sliding door. Wrapping it around her torso, she stepped out, nearly tripping on Alfie, and hissed at the sudden movement that caused her head to beat unpleasantly. Her stomach growled and she tucked the towel closer, grumbling. While she was always in a good mood the night before, hangovers put her in the worst, and she hoped Mollie wouldn't be too stingy about allowing her to make some toast in her kitchen. She needed something in her body beside the residue of alcohol she could still taste in her mouth, even after trying to rinse it out with the shower water. Glaring half-heartedly at the shaggy dog at her feet, she left the bathroom, passing a bed void of sheets, and downstairs where she came upon the heavenly smell of breakfast and the heavenly sound of Mollie's humming in the kitchen.

   When she caught sight of the blonde Saturday, she was wearing a simple long baseball t-shirt with her hair pulled up in a messy ponytail and her hands busy at saving bacon from burning in the pan. She yelped softly when some of the grease spit on her hand, and using a spatula, she hurriedly scooted the strips off onto a plate blanketed with paper towels.

   "Mollie King, are you trying to cook?"

   Without looking over her shoulder at Frankie, who sat herself at the said girl's table with a gimace of a smile, Mollie replied, "Emphasis on the trying, Frankie Sandford."

   The two laughed. Mollie twisted the stove knob with a click and slid the pan off its burner for it to cool down. Taking the plate, she placed it on a tray that she promptly lifted and began a careful walk towards the table, balancing a combination of foods and glasses of orange juice. There was a giddy grin on her face, no doubt out of pride for her successful cooking, and eventually made it to the seat across from Frankie.

   The look on her face was the kind Frankie wanted to see every waking moment. It was classical Mollie. Smiling, bubbly, brilliant, lovely. And Frankie smiled despite the agony of her hangover. It was worth it. Even if there wasn't light pouring in front of the wide windows, Mollie was so bright it still would have hurt her eyes.

   "Thought you might like a nice breakfast," the older woman explained, setting the tray in the middle of the table with a flourish, biting her bottom lip to conceal her ear to ear smile. She pulled out her chair and sat, bouncing in her seat as she grabbed a spare plate and began to serve herself.

   "Of course I would," Frankie complied, making sure the top of her towl was knotted and not about to fall before taking her own plate and forking over a plentiful amount of bacon. Without looking up, "Just don't snack off my plate this time." She stabbed at the mound of eggs and shoved it into her mouth, resisting the urge to moan.

   Across from her, "Well, I'm smart enough to know not to dare pester you in this mood." Mollie giggled to herself, peeling apart a piece of bacon delicately with her fingertips. Everything she did was so elegant, even when she wasn't trying.