losttheright | (no subject)

Sometimes, if she really stops to think about it, Molly finds it almost odd how easy this is, how well it works. Her last serious relationship — which is to say, her only other serious relationship — always felt a little like playing house, pretending to be something she wasn't. The words were there, and the idea of the right feeling, but that life never really felt like hers. Maybe it's the history she and Stephen have shared and managed to move past, both back home and here, or maybe it's something else, but that never really seems to be the case with him.

She probably loves him. At least, she thinks that's it, what the word would be for what she feels for him. More than a year since he came knocking on her door remembering having been here before, nine months since she moved in with him, and feeling good about all of that, not bored or restless or anything of the sort, it seems to fit. She doesn't feel odd or panicked about it, either, which seems pretty telling in its own right. That is, when she considers it at all, which mostly, she doesn't. Things feel comfortable enough that she doesn't need to. Besides, she's never been much of a romantic.

Even so, and despite the fact that election season is probably the worst time for it, she's got it in her head that they could both use a break, and she has a plan. Neither of them is typically great at stepping away from their work, but one night off won't kill them. And one night off is what she's decided they should have, or at least a few hours.

"So," she says, half-draped over a chair, as casual as anything, "hypothetically speaking, what would be the chances of me getting you to call it a night early?"

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"Oh, very thoughtful of you," Stephen teases. Really, it's not like Molly calls all the shots here, and the days when he might have tried to convince himself he did are long past. He considers it a moment, fingers tapping against the desk. It might be nice to go out and have a date; they don't do that that often. They've settled into a comfortable day-to-day routine and, with all the work they're both inclined to do, dates aren't often a part of that.

But going home sounds so good.

"Why don't we head back to our place?" he says, brow arching suggestively. "Order in maybe."

"Alright," Molly says, grinning. "Home it is." Even if it is a bit less outside of the usual, heading back to their place definitely has its advantages, too. If she were set on the prospect of going out, she'd have said so. There are plenty of good places that deliver, and they'll probably be more comfortable not sitting at a table in the middle of a crowded restaurant. Besides, there's no waiting for the check and then to go back to their building after, which she considers a plus. It's not like she needs any excuse or a semi-date to get laid, but it sure as hell doesn't hurt.

"Ooh, I think that one place with the really good steaks might deliver, actually."