Vulnerable [Frollie]

Chapter 1

“Please? For me?” Mollie asked, giving Frankie her best puppy dog face. Frankie rolled her eyes and made a big show of stabbing her pasta with her fork and shoving it in her mouth, chewing dramatically. But Mollie just grinned and stood up, placing both their plates in the sink. She ruffled Frankie’s short hair and kissed the top of her head, moving into the living room. “Should we watch a movie?” she called from the other room, and Frankie realized her little annoyed-at-Mollie act wasn’t working, so she sighed and got up, ambling over to the couch in the living room, where Mollie was already sprawled out.

She dropped herself right on top of Mollie, conveniently landing right on her stomach, grinning to herself at Mollie’s pained groan. She lay down on Mollie’s chest, snuggling up and inhaling the scent that was only to be described as ‘Mollie’ and blinked up at her with wide eyes and an innocent, yet cheeky, grin. Now it was Mollie’s turn to roll her eyes, nudging Frankie so she would move down a bit, so Mollie could get comfortable on their massive couch. She flicked on the TV, and they settled on Taken, with Liam Neeson. They sat in comfortable silence, just watching the film, cuddled together, both completely relaxed and on the verge of falling asleep.

But Mollie was startled into full consciousness when she felt Frankie take in a deep breath, and Mollie eyes flickered to the screen to see that they were at the part when Liam Neeson found all the girls chained to their beds. She mentally slapped herself for not realizing the film would bring back painful memories for Frankie, and she pulled her closer to her chest, rubbing her back comfortingly. She reached to change the channel, but Frankie stopped her.

“It’s okay, Molls,” she whispered softly, her fingers curling in Mollie’s. Mollie smiled, her fingers working through Frankie’s hair, her fingernails gently scratching her scalp, and Frankie released a sound that sounded dangerously close to a purr.

Frankie sighed, genuinely confused. Mollie always treated her as if she were the most beautiful human being, only touched her with soft, gentle fingers and kissed her like she never wanted to let her go. Frankie just didn’t understand, she knew Mollie saw her as a valuable person, someone to be loved, but Frankie knew that she saw her all wrong. Frankie wasn’t nearly as important as Mollie thought she was. But the way Mollie treated her made her feel on top of the world, so she never protested when Mollie treated her with such delicacy.

She curled closer into the warm heat that was Mollie, and closed her eyes, relaxing under the soft touch of Mollie’s fingers, growing drowsy. Mollie glanced down at Frankie, her chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm, and sat up, gathering Frankie in her arms and carrying her to their bedroom. She tucked her under the duvet, and climbed in next to her, pulling Frankie close to her chest and resting her chin on her shoulder, her eyes closing, and her breathing soon falling into the same pattern as Frankie’s.

~

When Frankie shot up in bed a few hours later, sweating and shaking, she knew it had been one of her bad nights. She desperately scrubbed at her face, trying to stop the tears that were flowing down her cheeks, trying to get the sobbing to subside. It was only then that she noticed the dampness of the sheets, and she realized with horror that she had wet the bed. She began to cry harder, the embarrassment pulsing in her veins, burning white hot. She wanted to wait until the shaking and sobbing had subsided to wake Mollie, but she was just delaying the inevitable and she really needed to be held.

She reached out with a trembling hand, shaking Mollie shoulder. “Molls, Mollie, wake up.” Mollie grunted in her sleep and shifted a little, but didn’t wake, seeing as she was a deep sleeper. “Mollie!” Frankie said louder, more urgently. Mollie’s eyes cracked open, adjusting to being awake. As soon as Frankie’s tear stained face came into view, she shot up and took Frankie into her arms, paying no mind to the dampness that was soaked into her clothing and the sheets.