Molly stood just inside the doorway, soaked through, rain dripping from her hair, cheeks flushed from running. Jessica didn't speak at first. She just watched her. Watched the way Molly couldn't meet her eyes, the way her hands shook despite being curled tightly into fists.
"Come upstairs," Jessica said, voice low.
Molly followed her silently.
Her bedroom was dimly lit, warm, smelling faintly of vanilla and old books. A hoodie was thrown over the chair, and a steaming mug of tea sat half-drunk on the nightstand.
Jessica handed Molly a towel without a word. Molly wrapped herself in it, still trembling.
"You're freezing," Jessica murmured, finally breaking the silence.
"I couldn't stay away anymore," Molly whispered.
Jessica sat on the edge of her bed, arms crossed. "Why now?"
Molly's eyes filled again, but this time with something quieter. "Because every time I try to live my life without you in it… it just stops feeling like mine."
Jessica's expression faltered.
Molly stepped closer. "I wake up and I think about what you're doing. I hear a song and wonder if you'd like it. I wear something and wonder if you'd tease me for it. I see someone smile and compare it to yours - and nothing compares. No one comes close."
Jessica blinked slowly, heart racing in her chest. "Then why do you keep hurting me?"
"Because I hate how much I love you," Molly breathed, stepping even closer. "It's messy and loud and it makes me weak. I've never been weak before, Jess. Not until you."
Jessica stood up. They were barely inches apart now.
"I'm not going to be your weakness," she said firmly. "I want to be your choice."
Molly reached up - fingers trembling as she brushed a strand of hair behind Jessica's ear. "You are."
Jessica's eyes closed at the touch.
"I'm scared too, you know," she whispered. "But I still showed up."
Molly swallowed hard. "Then let me stay."
A beat passed.
Jessica nodded. "Just for tonight."
It wasn't like the books or the movies.
They didn't cuddle right away. They didn't fall asleep tangled in each other's arms, whispering confessions in the dark.
They sat on the bed, backs against the wall, legs stretched out, shoulders brushing.
Jessica handed Molly a spare shirt - black and soft and just slightly too big. Molly changed in the bathroom and emerged looking… painfully beautiful in something that smelled like Jess.
They watched old 90s movies and talked in soft voices about nothing and everything. Molly curled up beside her as the rain tapped gently against the windows.
It was almost normal.
Almost.
Around 2 a.m., Molly broke the silence.
"My dad… doesn't know," she said quietly.
Jessica turned to look at her. "About you being - ?"
"I don't even know what I am," Molly said quickly, panicked. "I just know I like you. And it scares the shit out of me."
Jessica's voice softened. "It doesn't have to be a label. It can just be… us."
Molly looked at her, eyes wide, vulnerable. "Do you think people like us ever get a happy ending?"
Jessica held her gaze. "Not unless we fight for it."
A long silence.
Then Molly whispered, "I'll fight. I promise."
Jessica leaned her head on Molly's shoulder. Molly exhaled slowly, like she hadn't been able to breathe properly in weeks.
Jessica woke up first.
Molly was curled beside her, lips parted slightly, hair a soft mess on the pillow. She looked peaceful - young in a way Jess hadn't seen her before.
Jess didn't wake her.
She just watched her, quietly memorizing the shape of the girl who had cracked her heart wide open and crawled inside.