Love Like Wildfire

Chapter VII

   They used to happen every day. Nearly. And most times, it was Mollie that Frankie came shambling to. Face tracked with tears, stricken with depression and sometimes for no reason at all other than the crushing weight of her own self-inflicted sadness. Those moments were the worst. Worse than just about anything she could imagine. Sometimes, Rochelle— who was the longest time a friend of Frankie's— or another one of the girls who chanced upon these periods of dissolve would care of her. To be honest, Mollie was grateful for those times she didn't have to be there for Frankie. It gave her a chance to heal, for whatever Frankie felt, she shared it. Though it wasn't her own, it still devastated her. And those times alone she would often cry herself. Why couldn't Frankie be happy? Of all people, she deserved to be. Especially the times that she was sad for no reason at all other than the curse of this ailment. It was awful.

   Taking her audio pack from the back of her skirt after one of their tour's performances, she excused herself to the dressing room to grab an article of clothing she had left behind. Admittedly, she hadn't noticed Frankie's absence in the lobby because as usual, it was a flurry of activity after a performance. Swinging her ear piece as she strode into the room, humming the melody of the song they had just sang, she stopped in her tracks immediately, her heart dropping to her feet and her voice failing her. She heard the sobs before she spotted the little figure balled up in a corner of the room, behind a chair and hidden by some costumes that hung over the counter. The audio pack made a clatter as it fell from fleeting hands that soon were taking up weaving through chocolate locks, slightly sticky with the sweat that had melted the hairspray used to keep it in place during their choreography. She didn't have to ask. Things with Wayne were swell and her family was dandy and everything was suitable. It was just one of those fits. Swallowing everything that rose at the sight of crying Frankie, she remained knelt by her side, unable to keep from touching her in some form of soothing. Time would prevail, as it always did. The tears would run dry and she would be forced to look at Mollie. Until then, the blonde would let her legs cramp and forget they were supposed to leave soon if they wanted to escape the mayhem of a emptying sold-out arena. Until she could see Frankie smile again, she would drop everything and anything for her.

   Stirring from her recollection, Mollie blinked awake. Sunlight poured vainly through her partially drawn blinds, as though someone had opened them a bit and let her wake on her own. Turning her head to the right, the duvet of her bed was thrown back, the space beside her empty, Frankie missing. Looking past the pillow, she read on her childhood alarm clock that it was getting on in the afternoon and she really should be downstairs attempting to help with preparing Thanksgiving supper. Rubbing at her forehead, she sat up, wincing when she carelessly rubbed at the ice burn on her jaw that was actually healing swimmingly but remained tender to the touch. The noise of her discomfort must have been loud enough because a beat later and she felt a presence enter her room, looking over to her adjoined bathroom to see Frankie leaning against the door frame, smiling past a toothbrush and foam.

   "Sleepin' Beauty," Frankie greeted through her occupied mouth, chuckling.

   Sighing, "How long had I been asleep?"

   "Since we left the hotel early this morning," Frankie replied, taking the toothbrush from her mouth and turning to retreat into the bathroom. Distantly, there was her spitting and rinsing her mouth before she came sauntering over to the bed, crawling across it to lay her head in Mollie's lap. "As soon as Elle offered to drive your car and you and I crawled into the back, you fell asleep. Your dad carried you up when we got home." Scrunching her nose, "It was quite adorable, you looked so small."

   "Oh, stop it," Mollie reprimanded, blushing lightly and falling back against her pillow. "We were woken in the middle of the night to leave."

   Frankie rolled onto her stomach, propped up by her arms to stare down at Mollie's lying figure. "I was gutted too. I was quite comfortable." There was a knowing lining to her voice, one that gave a jolt to Mollie's heart, and her mind returned to the previous night that seemed as though it had happened so much longer ago than just a handful of hours.