Vulnerable [Frollie]

Chapter 7

Frankie knotted her fingers tighter in Mollie’s shirt, squeezing her eyes shut against the bright morning light sneaking in the windows and under her eyelids. She pressed her face closer into Mollie’s chest and sighed. She didn’t want to get up. She didn’t want to go to lectures. She didn’t want Mollie to go to lectures. She wanted to make her breakfast and eat it in bed and watch TV in bed and maybe do some other things in bed. She did not want to get up.

Mollie mumbled something mildly obscene about mornings above her and Frankie chuckled, despite her sleepiness.

Mollie started to shift and Frankie whined. “Don’t go,” she mumbled, pulling Mollie tighter to her.

Mollie smiled because for such a petite girl Frankie was quite strong when she wanted to be.

"Don’t want you to go," Frankie continued in her sleepy voice, "want you to stay. Want to cuddle,"

"We can’t," Mollie chuckled, nuzzling her nose in Frankie’s hair, "we have lectures to go to," she reasoned.

"No," Frankie protested, lifting her face up so her lips were accessible, "Kiss," she commanded, too tired for sentences.

Mollie obliged, pressing her lips against Frankie’s. She pulled away, (morning breath) and Frankie whined again. She rolled over onto her back, blinking sleepily up at Mollie who smiled softly, reaching over to the bedside table to flick on the light and grab her glasses.

Frankie shuffled to a sitting position, leaning her back against the headboard. Mollie glanced at her watch and mentally went over what she and Frankie had to do today, deciding whether or not they could afford to skip the lectures and stay in bed. She glanced over at Frankie, hair askew, eyes bright and lips quirked into a small smile. The sheets were gathered around her, bunched up at her waist. She was wiggling her socked feet under the covers, smiling softly to herself as she fiddled with the sheets around her neck. God, she just looked so…cuddly.

Mollie rolled her eyes and lay back down, resting her head on Frankie’s stomach.

“Sod it, we’ll stay in today,” she mumbled against Frankie’s skin and she grinned.

They stayed in bed until noon, watching pointless television and making fun of the actors on screen. They switched it to the music channel and sang along to all the oldies, serenading each other with overenthusiastic elegance. They laughed and Frankie made tea and breakfast and brought it back to bed and they ate it and cuddled and fell back asleep. They woke up a little while later and took a shower together, got dressed in nothing but the sheet from around their bed for Frankie and one of the older extra-large painting shirts for Mollie.

Mollie went up to her studio and Frankie padded along after her, blanket trailing behind her. She curled up on her window seat, tea in hand and watched as Mollie went to the back of her studio and selected a large size canvas. She poked around for a while, looking for something, looking dissatisfied. She flipped through the various sketchbooks strewn about, turning the pages rapidly, searching.

She looked up, eyebrows creased into a frown and left the room, coming back a short minute later with a thick book, royal blue leather with a silver tie, various paintings and sketches sticking out, showing the frayed edges of their surfaces. She dropped it unceremoniously on her cart, picking up the canvas and setting it on her easel. She grabbed the canvas primer and wide brush, running the bristles over her palm, testing them. She nodded to herself and set them down on the floor next to her stool, moving grab the remote to turn on the stereo. She tossed it to Frankie and Frankie caught it, switching it on. She hears the beginning strings of the first song and smiled.