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"BECOMING SUPREME feels a little pointless now," Michael hummed in thought, rousing Molly from the slumber she was readying herself to fall into. Curiously, she lifted her head up to get a view of his face, having been shielded from behind him.
It had been a week since Molly and the coven departed from Hawthorne, but that didn't mean she didn't see Michael just as much. Their contact extended beyond the boundaries of their dreams now, with Molly utilising her powerful transmutation abilities to travel across state and spend her nights and free time with him. This time she brought Michael back to Miss Robichaux's Academy, and was exhausted from the exertion of power. It was more than worth it - the young woman simply couldn't hack the recirculated air of the underground institution.
That was how they had ended up in their current predicament, cuddling up on her twin bed with Michael playing the role of little spoon. Molly liked to take every opportunity she could to poke fun at the difference between Michael Langdon and her Michael. One was an extremely dangerous product of Hell - the other melted under her touch like soft butter.
"Why's that then?" She asked, her voice quiet despite the opposite end of the room left vacant. After Queenie had returned, Molly was allocated one of the shared rooms alongside Madison. Thankfully, her roommate was off gallivanting for Cordelia, and had been for over a week.
"I joined the warlocks to find my people," he furrowed his brows as he explained, turning around in her arms to face her fully. "When really I should have been trying to win back my person."
"Did you get that from Grey's Anatomy?" Molly snorted, breaking the tension of the moment as the two dissolved into giggles.
"It was Mead's favourite show, alright? She really had a lady boner for McDreamy," Michael shrugged innocently, causing her to clap a hand over her mouth to muffle her laughs. Just because the room was empty, didn't mean their voices wouldn't reverberate through the walls. Although many girls liked to break it, there was a rule against allowing boys to sleep over.
"Then leave them," Molly urged quietly after their laughter died down, tucking a tendril of his blonde hair back from his eyes. "We could run away together, maybe we could still see Italy like we wanted to."
Michael hesitated, the Adam's apple in his throat bobbing up and down as he swallowed nervously. His reaction elicited a fallen look in her expression, which was quickly covered up after the sound of a car outside. It was far too late for visitors, unless it was for the neighbours. Still, desperate for a distraction from the conversation, Molly clambered out of bed and headed towards the window.
The girl peered out curiously at the sight of their familiar black car, a blonde head of hair exiting the backseat. With a sigh, Molly turned back around to look at Michael, who was pointedly staring away from her.
