losttheright | (no subject)

She finds out by accident. That shouldn’t be entirely surprising, Molly thinks, but she feels a little guilty for it even so, despite knowing full well that getting the news sooner wouldn’t have made a bit of difference. This isn’t the first time she’s lost someone in Darrow, after all. It just is, perhaps, the hardest for her to deal with. Even Stephen and Chase’s disappearances hadn’t hit her this hard. They’d been friends, the former maybe something a little more than that. Lisbeth is different. Molly had barely known her at all, had spoken to her infrequently at best, but she’d saved Molly’s life, and that’s not something she’ll ever be able to forget. Nor is it, now, something she can ever begin to try to make up to her.

If given the chance, she would have, too. Knowing that this is all she gets makes her that much more grateful for it, desperate, even, to hold on, to make it last as long as she can. That night, she’d been willing to accept that it was over, well aware that she’d already gotten more of a life than she otherwise would have, but she hadn’t thought there would be any other outcome. It’s only because of some impeccable fucking timing and instincts on Lisbeth’s part that she’s here at all, happier than she thinks she’s been in a long while, and that’s not something she could have disregarded.

Even with Lisbeth gone, it still isn’t. At work, after hearing a mention of the old abandoned fairground and how it really is abandoned now once again, she gets by alright, as good at compartmentalizing when she needs to as ever, but the more time passes, the harder it becomes. By the time she gets to Lee’s, where she goes after work as often as she does her own apartment these days, she’s distracted and she knows it, curled up on his couch with her computer and attempting uselessly to get a jump on what she has to do for tomorrow. It’s hard to focus on talking points for a press briefing when she just keeps thinking about Lisbeth swinging that fire poker and saving her life.

Before long, she stops trying, sighing as she snaps her laptop shut, pushing her hands back through her hair. "Fuck it," she says, as much to herself as to Lee. "I can’t focus."

Threaded | Flat

At the other end of the couch, Lee's nose is buried in a book as he studies for final exams. The year passed by a hell of a lot faster than he thought it would, and if he can pull this off, he'll be a third of the way done with law school in a few weeks. And after an entire year, Lee doesn't feel as rusty with academia as he did when he first started. College before the military seemed lifetimes away when he first started, but now it's almost becoming routine.

Just like nights like this with Molly are becoming routine. Though, Lee prefers somethings about their evenings together to others.

Molly shuts her laptop, and Lee sets his book down, closing it around a finger to save his spot.

"If what you're doing is as boring as what I'm reading, then I can't say I blame you," he says.