[22] a river of red

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MOLLY FIDDLED WITH THE ENDS OF HER DAMP HAIR, still wet from the shower she just had

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MOLLY FIDDLED WITH THE ENDS OF HER DAMP HAIR, still wet from the shower she just had. The blood from the peculiar bout of rain she got caught in had dried by the time they returned to the academy, causing her to have to scrub vigorously against her skin to get rid of it.

Michael and Molly were now spread out across her bed, their bodies lying in opposite directions with their heads resting beside each other. They were in the process of testing their powers, as Michael swirled a flame through the air that emanated from the tip of his finger.

The duo lay comfortably beside each other, a gap having been bridged from their moment outside. Molly wasn't sure what it meant, nor did she want to think of what the others would think. She just wanted to revel in the little kisses they shared, giggling occasionally like two teenagers hiding from parents. Molly was perfectly content with staying in their little bubble for the time being, figuring there would be plenty of time to worry about their newfound 'relationship' later.

"Is it true what they say in that bible you all like to read?" He asked suddenly, letting his hand fall to rest on his stomach. He turned his head to the side, prompting her to do the same. With mere centimetres between their faces, their breath mixing together, she couldn't stop from grinning again.

"So I've heard," she hummed, watching with burning cheeks as his eyes scanned over her features.

"Do the wine thing then, with that glass of water," he nodded towards the nightstand, a wicked smirk on his lips. "I've never been drunk."

"What, something you can't do?" She gasped dramatically, sitting up with excitement.

"Funnily enough," he chuckled, following her actions until he was leaning on one elbow, watching, "my father didn't think it would be of much use in taking over the world."

"And they call your dad the fun one," she tutted, lifting the glass of water she had left on her nightstand the night before. It was something she hadn't actually attempted before, but something told her she would do it with ease.

Cupping her hands around the glass, Molly exhaled slowly and allowed her eyes to close. Her eyes flickered beneath her eyelids as she focused on the water, unable to see if it was turning or not, but relying on her instincts.

Michael sat up further, gazing interestedly at the glass. As if a drop of blood had fallen into the water, a cloud of red suddenly appeared. It expanded and expanded until, within moments, the contents of the glass were now a thick, dark red.

Opening one eye to peak, she beamed at the sight of the new liquid in her glass, raising it in greeting to Michael. Bravely, she decided to have the first sip, and lifted the rim to her lips. Carefully, Molly took a sip of the wine, expecting it to taste somewhat sweet like blackberry.

gold dust woman | MICHAEL LANGDONWhere stories live. Discover now