Broken Child

Chapter Eight

So you readers on Wattpad have officially caught up to the spot my readers on my other fanfic website are currently at. Congratulations!

I haven't posted this new chapter on my other web account yet, so you guys get the first taste of what I've been working on for MONTHS now. Again, congratulations.

A word of caution, this chapter contains MINOR detail towards a...let's just say...explicit subject. So if you are sensitive to content containing the dreaded "Three Letter Word," I am very sorry, because it is hinted throughout the chapter.

I've been a bit skeptical about this chapter, but I think it has turned out the way I like, and I hope you all agree with me. Enjoy!

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Molly feels a slight tug at the crown of her head. It was a gentle brush, like the feel of warm water tickling the roots of her hair. Molly peels back two groggy eyelids that reveal a pair of fatigue glazed irises. Her neck swivels in the direction of that alluring sensation receding from the top of her head. She finds herself peering at two slender fingers that twist and twirl strands of her hair like it was ribbon. Wide eyes, pepper black hair, and the scent of cool spearmint is what she wakes up to, and she was immediately filled with rapture at the sweet introduction. She knew those smells, even in the little time she had to get used to them they became heavenly scents that meant comfort and care. She breathes it in, and snuggles closer to the man nestled at her right.

"You fell asleep during the movie."

Jim Moriarty purrs as he slides a finger across Molly's flushing cheek. She grins a mousy smile.

"Sorry. Was a bit if bore really...hope you didn't mind."

Jim slings an arm around her tiny curled figure and squeezes her body closer to his.

"Of course not my dear. You're so cute when you sleep. You did sleep talk a little. You know you do that?"

Molly's cheeks burst with crimson like a can of paint spraying the apples of her skin.

"I do not!"

"Hehehe, I'm just joking."

Jim giggles like a little kid, and Molly manages a smile atop her fiery cheeks. Jim leans forward, perching his lips on the top of Molly's head softly. The gentle sincerity of his kisses always sent Molly into a state of euphoria. He gave the kisses you'd stay up hours relaying in your mind thinking how in the world does one learn to kiss that way? While your heart simultaneously hugs onto it until it becomes embedded into the flesh, and you feel like it's a secret that no one must know about. And he held a charm, the ability to recede her humiliation as if it was the waves of a flood, build from her faults and create something encouraging. That's what she liked about Jim. He treated her as if her quivering voice and stuttering tongue were invisible, or better yet, he thought it cute. His sweetness was irresistible and came from a place in his heart saved especially for Molly Hooper.

Jim mustered the courage inside Molly to make her brush her soft fingers against his jaw and gather him into a kiss. How natural it felt to kiss him, like she had always been kissing him. Like they hadn't just met a few days ago. However, the unexpected solid raps against the door cause them to both separate with reluctance.

"I'll just get that."

Molly says, a bit disappointed that her brilliant kiss had been interrupted. She hauls herself from the couch in her house, Jim clutches her hand and gives it a slight squeeze before she goes. Molly is casual as she grazes over to the door and gives the knob a slight twist before pulling it open.