losttheright | I, I wanna get myself back

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j. daniel atlas

I, I wanna get myself back

It isn't, strictly speaking, that Molly is nervous. There's no reason for her to be. With as many times as she's done this sort of thing in the past, it's second-nature, even now. Maybe especially now, with as long as she had to wait to be able to do this in the first place, weeks of having to take such care of the injuries done to her face and being too self-conscious to want to do much of anything at all. Now, though, finally given the clear and told her nose is healed, she's more than fucking ready to start getting things back to normal again. She hasn't felt like herself since the attack. It's about damn time she got a chance to.

Of course, she'll never be entirely free of it. There are and always will be a few scars from the nails she was shot with, a fainter one along the bottom of her lower lip. She can look at herself in the mirror, though, without cringing at what she sees, and the bruising's faded from her face and around her neck, and it's enough. Hell, it's the most she can fucking ask for, and she's alright with that. At least she's still here at all. Besides, Daniel isn't some stranger. All of those would know who she is now anyway, and would probably make it more than a little awkward. Daniel, though, is a friend, she thinks, and he's someone she's slept with before, and he's seen her when she looked just about her worst. It's her best possible option. Besides, experience tells her that it will definitely be worth it. God knows when she's had to wait this long, she'd hate to settle for someone who didn't really know what they were doing.

That he's agreed to her very straightforward invitation just makes her all the more convinced that this is the right call. Even so, as she waits for him to arrive, she can't help but notice that her heart is beating just a little harder than it ought to. After all this time, though, that isn't exactly a surprise, so she doesn't dwell on it, even brightens when she hears someone buzz her apartment, going over to the intercom. "Yeah?"

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It's about as awkward as the rest of this has been, heading to her dresser while wrapped in a sheet, but at least he doesn't seem to be making too much of it. That's just one more thing for Molly to be grateful for, and all the more reason not to bide her time, taking a larger t-shirt out of a drawer and tugging it over her head. Better, she thinks, than fumbling around for her discarded pieces of clothing from earlier. She can take care of those once she's dressed, pulling the sheet away once she's got the shirt on, less concerned with her legs being bare than her chest, crossing to where she left her jeans. "You have any preference?"

"Whatever you got's fine," Danny says with a shrug. Now hardly seems the time to be picky, though he probably would be any other time. He knows what he likes, he sees nothing wrong with that. Now just isn't the time for it.

With her dressed and talking, he gets to his feet, hands in his pockets as he heads toward her, careful not to get too close yet. They'll probably both be better off out of the bedroom.

"Alright," Molly says, shooting him a thin smile as she tugs her jeans on. Her heart is still beating too fast, but the instinctive, stupid panic, at least, has subsided. Even having not been able to help it, even knowing on some level that it's logical, she feels like she should continue apologizing, not accustomed in the least to having to stop when she specifically invited him over to fuck her. She doesn't know how to say any of that, but she isn't yet grounded enough to try to hide it. She's not sure she would even if she could. "I'll be right back."

Danny nods. "Okay." He'll follow her lead in this as everything else, he decides. Sitting on the bed seems like a bad idea, but he's not about to follow her out to the kitchen either. Maybe she could use the space. Just walking around her room seems just as stupid, though, so he gives her a slight head start before heading out toward the living room. "I'm gonna find a seat in here," he says. "We wouldn't want to, uh, spill on your bed or anything."

"Yeah, we definitely wouldn't," Molly agrees, quietly glad that he's said as much. She's pretty sure that can't actually be why he's suggested the living room, and it saves her from having to do the same herself, certain that it would be far too awkward just to lie around in bed after what almost happened but couldn't. The less they need to dwell on that, the better, when she already feels so uncomfortable about it. "Go ahead and turn on the TV, if you want."

"Thanks." It's not something he would have done otherwise, actually, but he does so now, figuring the background noise might do her some good. He flips through the channels, looking for something they won't have to pay a lot of attention to, finally settling on some dumb made-for-TV movie that's been playing on and off all week.

He pulls his cards from his jacket, sliding them from the box. "You want any help in there?"

"Yeah, sure," Molly says, opening a cabinet to take out a couple of glasses. then the freezer for ice. He's said he'll have whatever, but it might be easier for him to see what she has on hand, anyway, rather than her just going ahead and mixing something for him, even if, for her part, she'd drink anything right now provided it was strong enough. The fact of that is more significant than she would probably ever tell him, saying more about how much she trusts him than her having to stop does.

Tapping the cards gently against the coffee table, Danny sets them down alongside the remote, springing easily to his feet to join her. It's ludicrous, honestly. He usually avoids making serious friends for reasons similar to this. Usually serial killers aren't involved, but the fact remains, he doesn't have the first clue how to handle things. He wants to help, he actually, honestly does, but it's beyond him to do much more than stand awkwardly near her. He'd be more in his element in a straitjacket, and Henley's the escapist. "What can I do?"

"Grab me the tonic water out of the fridge?" Molly suggests, uncapping the bottle she's already taken out. She defaults to gin and tonic most of the time, and now is no exception, the stronger the better. She only has so many hands, though, and could fix them both herself, but having him here is a little easier. At least her heart's slowed considerably, her nerves no longer quite so frayed, leaving her at ease even with him in close proximity, shooting him a small smile. "Unless you want something else, in which case, grab that, too."

"No, that sounds good," Danny says, offering up an easy smile over his shoulder as he heads for the fridge. He wants to keep it simple, he's sure of that much, and he's not about to be overly particular about drinks right now. It doesn't take too long to find the tonic water. When he approaches, he walks slowly, setting it down near her. "Thanks."

"It's no problem," Molly says, shrugging. He's the one she should be thanking, really, but she doesn't want to draw any more attention to that right now. They've spent enough time on it as it is, and with as distinctly uncomfortable as she still feels, not with him but about herself, she doesn't want to make it weirder by continuing to focus on it. Mixing both of their drinks, she holds a glass out to him a few moments later. "Here."

With a charming smile and a nod, Danny accepts the drink, lifting it to her in salute. "To the lovely hostess," he says teasingly. "Come on, there's an incredibly shitty movie on TV." And his cards on the table, for a better distraction, but he has to hope that one or the other will keep her mind off of what happened until she feels calmer.

"Oh, perfect," Molly says, letting out a laugh at his toast. She likes good movies well enough, too, but the ridiculously bad ones are far better as far as having a distraction is concerned. Though she thinks they've done alright improving the mood after she so abruptly ruined it, it's still bound to help. Drink in hand, she starts towards the living room. "The shittier, the better."

"It's been on and off all week," Danny says, leading the way back to the couch. "I've only caught a little here and there, but there seems to be a lot of CGI on a very low budget. I think the cat might talk." There's a reason he keeps things on mute.

"Oh, wow," Molly says, looking almost impressed as she takes a seat on the couch, brow raising. "That is... really something." Worse than she was expecting, even, which is kind of fantastic. There's Hallmark Movie Channel, overly sappy bad, and then there's talking CGI animals bad, and the latter is far less likely to be anything resembling serious. Not that the former would be very good at it, either. "When you said bad, I didn't think it would be that bad."

"I don't think we should ever underestimate how bad TV movies can be," Danny tells her wryly. Taking a seat in a corner, he turns enough to be facing her at least in part. "Or the quality of entertainment in Darrow. It's not exactly Hollywood around here." He's grateful for that tonight. At least she seems momentarily distracted.

"That's very true," Molly says, one leg drawn up underneath her when she takes a seat. They have less in the way of potential shooting locations here, too, which probably makes a difference. She doesn't know much about the film industry, has never paid all that much attention to it, but some things are just common sense. "But, hey, the worse they are, the more we can reap the benefits of them."

"Well, if that's what you want to call it," Danny says, dryly dubious, and reaches for the remote so he can turn up the volume, just a little. He benefits in public, at least, his act one that doesn't depend on his location, but from this particular movie, he doubts he will. Still, it's better than doing anything that's going to upset her further.

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I, I wanna get myself back

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