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Molly stood outside her front door, watching herself flip through her key ring while managing two stiff paper bags filled with groceries. In her struggle, she located her apartment key before her bag bursts open to drop a pint of ice cream all over the welcome mat. Darn! Molly reached down to pick up the fallen keys and planned to clean up later.
She unlocks the door, another successful grocery run, who says adulting is easy. Molly floods her kitchen table with her items, "I'm home," she calls out.
That's funny. No answer.
Molly looks at the kitchen, then to the living room. Libby's no where to be spotted. Molly remembered seeing her car on the way up, so she expected Libby's greeting.
Molly walks towards their bedroom. What she saw was worrying. She found Libby under her weighted blanket, pointed towards the back wall, trembling and crying, even struggling to breath as her breaths were rapid and deep. Molly couldn't help but to take the blame for this, I left her alone like this. I have to be more careful.
"Hey Love," Molly projects softly at her, "I'm home from the store, are you okay?"
Libby doesn't turn to look at Molly, Molly just watched as she sniffled and shook her head slightly and pats Molly's side of the mattress.
Molly breathes a silent sigh in relief, Cool. She wants my help through this one. Molly made her way onto the bed, careful not to embrace her just yet but made her presence known.
Ever since their eventful car accident, it was nobodies fault really. Molly had her ways of coping, she simply lets her job consume the thoughts.
Libby was affected the worst, she's been battling deep bouts of anxiety and frequent, sudden panic attacks ever since the crash. There are still nights where she wakes up screaming and in a cold sweat, and all Molly can do is hold her and kiss the back of her neck until it subsides. The panic attacks are probably worse than the nightmares, though. They come fast and they come hard, and each one is different.
Libby is never quite sure if she wants Molly to talk her through it, or hold her until she can breathe again, or if she just needs to be by herself. As a consequence, Molly developed her own way of asking her how she can help.
Libby sniffles and tries to take a deep breath, it cracks halfway through and turns into a gasp for air.
Molly had one panic attack before, it was way before the crash and she can't even remember what brought it on. It was a fairly mild one, but she know what it's like to have your chest seize up and refuse to let you breathe as your heart pounds and your thoughts race. It was awful and Libby ended up talking Molly through it, but she can't even imagine going through them as badly and as routinely as Libby does.
She's strong, stronger than she knows. Molly loves her for it.
Molly feels a sudden pressure on her hand and look down to see that Libby is holding it, her sky blue nail polish chipped against her almond skin. She takes her hand into her other and sighs, rubbing over her knuckles softly with her thumb. Libby always says she likes it when she does that, and what's important to Molly right now is soothing her the best you can.
"Do you want me to hold you?"
Libby exhales, a deep, shaky breath, gasping air back in for a moment before managing to nod slightly.
It must be worse than usual. She never wants Molly to hold her unless it's especially bad.
Molly lays down on the bed and gently pulls in Libby down next to her. She rests her head on her chest and tucks her own knees up towards her chest. Molly wraps an arm around her and presses a kiss to her hair. Molly feels Libby's shudder against her and she ran a hand through her hair, running her nails softly across her scalp. She always loves that. Molly kisses her hair again, and Libby nestles in agreement, crying into her shirt, and she held her, shushing her gently and stroking her hair.
"Just breathe, Libby. It's okay. I'm here, we're out. I know it's hard, but you gotta try to breathe."
She sighs, finally managing to get a good breath in, and Molly could feel her relax a little against her as she quiets herself.
"It's okay, you're okay," she whispers and holds her. Molly feels she's bad at this, her mother is so much better at calming people down, but Molly can only try, Molly can always try, and the most important thing is that Libby's gonna be okay.
Libby sighs again, curling closer into Molly's touch and pressing a soft kiss into her collarbone.
Molly won't rush her. Whenever it's this bad, Molly could tell she's gonna wanna talk about it once she comes down, but she'll talk when she's ready. It's not her place to push her.
"I'm sorry," Libby whispers, whisper-soft against her skin and Molly is not sure she even heard it. "I'm sorry."
Molly despises Libby's apology, she wants to scream that it's bull crap, that she's perfect the way she is and that she has nothing to be sorry for, but Libby knows all of that anyways and right now, she doesn't wanna hear it. So instead Molly just settled for "I know."
With an idle finger she absently traces patterns across Molly's skin, shoulders and collarbones and the beginnings of her chest not covered by shirt. She sighs again, sniffling quietly and trying to blink the sting of tears out of her eyes.
"I remembered the crash again," she whispers, swallowing a lump in her throat and moving her feet restlessly in their place by Molly's right knee, curling her toes softly and looking down. She's nervous and uncomfortable. Libby never wants to talk about it, but she always has to, she feels the need to explain herself. Molly just wishes she could tell her that it's okay to break down sometimes.
You never need an excuse to cry.
Molly didn't interrupt her though. It just makes it harder for both of them. She has learned to just let Libby talk, so instead she ignores the hurt in her heart for her and pulls her closer, stroking her hair away from her face and curling an arm around her a little tighter, and Molly tries to forget her, skinny forearm can't protect her from the hurt of the world.
Libby feels calm and quiet against her girlfriend, and Molly begins to think of that old quote about storms being named after people, and she finally understands. Her job is to understand. To let Libby know that she doesn't have to lock these things away inside of her, and to soothe her when she cracks.
"I know," Molly says again. It's all she'll ever say, but somehow it's enough.
She sits up, stares down at Molly, and smiles, brushing a few stray tears away from her face.
"Thank you," she whispers. "I love you."
Molly will grant her a small smile and look up at her. She's beautiful even like this, her eyes teary and her nose all red and splotchy. Molly loves her, she loves her so much and instead of answering she leans up and kisses her, she may not be a breath player but she tries to breathe all the love her heart holds for Libby into that kiss and she's pretty sure she reciprocated it.
Libby kisses back and it's a kiss of gratitude and appreciation and sadness and more than anything, love. Molly pulls back after a moment and smooth tears off her cheeks with the pad of a thumb, and she rests her head on Molly's shoulder and settles back to pull her into her lap, wrapping both arms around her and resting her chin on her head.
Molly wonders how she ever got so lucky as to end up with her. Libby always asks her the same thing.
She is strong and she is real and she is beautiful, and Molly always has to remind herself that she's what keeps her grounded. aspects were always void but Libby is tangible, and real, and perfect, and she'll never understand what Molly did to deserve her.
She kisses the place where Molly's neck meets her shoulder and smiles. her hand finds one of hers and holds it and damn it, Molly is supposed to be the one consoling her, not the other way around.
But then again, she tells herself that it's a give and take, and they couldn't last as long as Molly has if she didn't complete each other. Molly had always thought of it that way, even before she met scratch.
Life and Void. Everything and nothing. Libby is her everything, she's everything to Molly, entire universes contained in the body of one small woman, Molly doesn't feel like the best at times. Even through her inevitable self doubt, somehow Libby will love her anyway.