Vulnerable [Frollie]

Chapter 2

Frankie sighed under the feather light touches of Mollie’s fingertips drawing nonsensical patterns up her spine. She blinked against the soft morning light pushing its way through the curtains of the guest room and yawned. She rolled over to face Mollie and Mollie moved her hands from Frankie’s back to her hips, pulling her impossibly closer. Frankie purred under her touch and closed her eyes again; breathing in the indescribable scent of the person you love. She knotted her hands in the soft grey shirt Mollie was wearing, her mind reeling. Eventually, when the thoughts in her head threatened to break through her lips, she opened her eyes and shifted under Mollie’s weight.

"Molls?" She murmured softly, unwilling to break the peaceful silence. "Molls, babe."

"Mmf." Mollie grunted, but opened her eyes anyway.

"Mollie," Frankie whispered softly, trying to pull the elder girl from her slumber.

"I said, mmf." Mollie answered, and rolled her eyes playfully.

"Can we… can we talk, for a bit, seriously?" Frankie tried, and this seemed to bring Mollie to a state of full consciousness.

"Of course, baby. Yeah. What’s up?" Mollie’s brow furrowed in confusion, and Frankie reached a finger up and smoothed it away.

"It’s okay," she murmured, reassuring. "I’m just… I’m just really confused..? About…about what happened last night, in the, um, shower…"

"Oh god did you…did you not want that? Shit, were you not ready? Oh god, babe, I’m so-" Frankie cut Mollie off with a swift kiss, taking the words off her lips with her own.

"Mollie. Molls, stop. Listen to me," Frankie said, massaging Mollie’s shoulders in an effort to calm her down.

Mollie was tense, rigid, the thoughts bouncing around in her head distressing. She had thought Frankie was ready. Frankie never told her to stop what she was doing, never showed any signs of discomfort, of apprehension. She never seemed distressed or worried or scared. That made Mollie freeze; could she not read Frankie the way she thought she could? She thought she knew Frankie inside out, but was she wrong?

Almost as if Frankie could read her thoughts, she pressed harder into Mollie shoulders.

"It was perfect, and wonderful, and beautiful, and a million other words I don’t have to describe it," Frankie sighed, hoping Mollie was absorbing what she was saying because honestly, it really was amazing and perfect in every way. Frankie had never felt so good, so loved so…whole.

But she knew it wasn’t supposed to be like that. She wasn’t the one who was supposed to feel good. She was then one who was supposed to make the other person feel good, and accept whatever pain or hurt came out of that. She knew, as long as the other person felt good, she wouldn’t get hurt. She knew that because of all the years her father had beaten those things into her.

"Molls, I’m just confused because," she paused, refusing to make eye contact. "Well, you did that for me, and then you didn’t make me do anything for you. And that’s not…that’s not normal. Because, you know, when my stepdad and I had sex, we-"