.:. Five .:.
Disappointment whirled in Molly's stomach. With a groan, she flopped down onto the couch and kicked off her pair of fluffy-pink-bunny slippers. The phone was pressed against her ear while a tasseled cushion lay on her abdomen, fingers combing through the golden strings.
"Kathy, what do you mean you can't have the night off?"
"I mean exactly that," the blonde exhaled, the faint sound of tapping; the probable result of her finger nails against the bar. "Daddy forgot to tell me that it was Chase's night off, so I have to fill in. Can you believe it? That darn old man has a scatter brain sometimes," she giggled.
"But… movie night, Kaths. Movies. Ice-cream. A night of finery."
"Honey, I'm sorry…" her speech trailed, a sudden gasp vibrating through the receiver. "Hey, why don't ya pop in? I know Chase isn't here to cook, but I make a pretty mean cocktail if I do say so myself."
"As fun as that sounds, I'm already in my pajamas. You know, the onesie that you got me for my birthday last year? It's more trouble to get out of than it's worth. Plus… ice-cream, Kaths. Creamy pink goodness. I'm looking at the unopened tub on the coffee table and I would feel like I was cheating. It's watching with it's judgmental, watchful eyes, waiting to yell at me if I ditch it for one of your mean strawberry daiquiris."
"You and that darn ice-cream," she reprimanded, yet humour laced her tone. "You know, this is why you're still single. Ain't no room in Molls life for anything else."
"Don't I know it? You never truly get over a first love."
Kathy laughed, the unmistakable sound of Hayden's gruff calling echoing in the background.
"Sorry to cut this short, hon. But Owen's just arrived and daddy is yelling at me to get to work. Wish me luck with our most annoying customer."
She grumbled something eligible and Molly knew a dramatic eye-roll would follow along with the flipping of hair.
"Have fun~" she teased, and hung up.
Molly's eyes skirted the farmhouse in an attempt to find something to entertain her boredom. They reached the kitchen when she noticed the pair of plastic containers on the counter. Against her better judgement, she decided to dial Chase's number. He waited until the last ring before picking up.
"What?" he snapped.
"Yo," she greeted, cheery despite his rudeness. "It's me."
"You'll have to be more specific."
"Molly. Your resident farmer."
"More like resident freak show."
"Um, rude."
"What do you want? I'm busy. Stop wasting my time."
"Busy? Doing what? I've just got off the phone with Kathy. She says it's your night off."
"Exactly. And on my night off, I'm busy doing nothing."
"What a coincidence! I'm doing nothing too! Because you decided to have your night off, Kathy had to work and cancel our movie night!"
"My sincerest apologies. Let me leave you in this period of mourning."
"Don't you dare hang up, Chesney. First, I have a proposition."
He exhaled. "Of course you do."
"As repayment for the dinner last week, I grant you the honour of being Kathy's replacement."
"Wow. Is this what it feels like to be knighted?"
"Most likely. I was even going to share my strawberry ice-cream with you. Now that, my acquaintance, is an even greater honour."
"Like I thought this phone call could get any better."
He hung up.
Molly glared at her phone screen in outrage. She huffed, sunk her feet into her slippers and stabbed the spoon into the ice-cream. She immediately apologised to the dessert—it wasn't its fault that her neighbour was an inconsiderate idiot.
.:.
A series of impatient knocks sounded on her door an hour later.
Molly trudged over to answer it, her slippers making dragging noises against the floorboards, a spoon dangling from her mouth while she was still clad in a onesie. She wasn't fazed by her appearance.
Yet Chase, who was on the other side, was. He snorted and arched an eyebrow. "You need help."
A black beanie was slouched on his head, pale hair loose and curled from the moisture. His houndstooth scarf was tossed around his neck, hiding his chin. His cheeks and nose were rosy from the cold.
"What a rude thing to say!" she pouted and whipped the spoon from her mouth. "Not even a—'hi, Molls. How are you doing? You're looking great, by the way. Did you do something with your hair? Boy, am I glad you invited me over! What a neighbourly gesture!'"
His fingers pinched the bridge of his nose. "How accurately you portray my character," he droned, face nonchalant. "You really should ditch this farmers dream and pursue script writing."
"Thanks for the advice," Molly waved the spoon at him. "I suppose I'll forgive your previous rudeness if that hand behind your back is holding onto some food."
"Isn't this your lucky day," he sidestepped her into the kitchen and placed the tin of cookies beside the two plastic containers. His eyes lingered over the bin—where empty tubs of ice-cream cluttered. "It's a miracle you haven't died," he murmured, face souring.
Molly popped one of the cookies into her mouth, ignoring Chase's complaints. They were orange flavoured, still warm.
"What can I say? I'm one tough cookie. Get it? Cookie."
He blinked at her and yanked the cookie from her mouth and snapped it in half.
"Tough," his lips quirked as he slumped down into the couch.
.:.
"I was eleven the last time I cried—properly, I mean. Onions don't count. But this—this," Chase animatedly gestured to the floor where a countless number of DVD's were scattered. The duo were stood amidst them, like two shipwrecked sailors aboard a raft. "Is bringing me pretty damn close."
"What?" Molly sat and crossed her legs, thumbing through the titles. "My taste in films is fantastic. I mean, look—Titanic?" She looked up at him expectantly, tilting her head.
Chase's eye twitched. Molly burst into a fit of laughter at his expression, hitting her back against the wooden floor and clutching her stomach. She couldn't understand why it was so funny—perhaps it was grouping 'Chase' and 'Titanic' into a single thought.
"God," he inhaled sharply and Molly rolled forwards. His shoulders were hunched and shaking. At first she thought he was crying, but then his hand slipped from his mouth to reveal a crooked smile and a flash of teeth.
"You have the weirdest laugh—like a squeaky dog toy or something," he had his back to her, but he sounded breathless. "That's inhuman, I'm telling you. I think you should see someone."
"Says you!"
"No, no," he spun to face her, shaking his head. His lips were slanted into an awkward, repressed smile. "I don't laugh."
"And you call me inhuman!" Molly waved and patted the floor beside her. "Come here."
Chase appeared suspicious but obliged, curling a hand around his knee.
"This film," she held the DVD sleeve above their heads as though it was a sacred, spiritual object. "Is vital to understanding a girls heart. And if you would like a girlfriend in the near future, Chesney, you need to watch it. You see, I'm a girl. I know these things."
"Wait, what?"
"What?"
"You're a girl?"
"Oh, shut up," she batted his arm. "This film touches souls."
"Lucky me. I don't have one."
"Jack!" she imitated, extending her arms like a plane taking flight. "Jack, I'm flying!"
"You know what will be flying?" said Chase, lips barely moving through gritted teeth. "This monstrosity." He snatched the DVD out of Molly's hands, strode over to the door and threw it out into the night.
"Chase!" Molly yelled as she stumbled to her feet, tripping over several DVD's in the process. "How could you—that—that was one of my favourites! Oh, god… that was one of Kathy's favourites, too… do you know how long it takes to ship things from the city! You—you—"
"You," he whacked her over the head with another DVD. "Need to be educated."
She huffed and crossed her arms. "I like what I like."
Chase narrowed his eyes and mimicked her posture, a slight curve to his lips. "And I hate what I hate."
.:.
After an hour of disagreements, they decided upon the film 'Brief Encounter'. Chase still wasn't impressed by the 'forbidden love plot' or with the romance genre at all. But Molly didn't have anything else. She certainly didn't want to take him up on his suggestion of fetching his collection of gangster and horror films.
"I had no thoughts at all," he began, syncing his words with the female protagonists. "Only an overwhelming desire not to feel anything again."
Molly stifled a laugh and threw a pillow at his head. "Do my ears deceive me or are you quoting a romance film? You're like the biggest cynic there is. A little ironic, wouldn't you say?"
He scowled and tossed the pillow back. "Maya likes this film," he mumbled, taking small bites from a cookie. "More like she likes the outfits and the aesthetic… I listened to it while cooking blanquette de veau once."
"You remember the odd things yet forget the normal. Like I said—you're backwards."
"Beats being straight out odd."
They returned their attention back to the television.
'I wish you'd stop talking,' the protagonist began. 'I wish you'd stop prying and trying to find things out. I wish you were dead—no, I don't mean that. It was silly and unkind, and I shouldn't have said it. But I do wish you'd stop talking.'
Molly shovelled another mouthful of ice-cream into her mouth, resulting in her muffled speech. "What's the deal with you and Maya, anyway?" she inquired, curiosity peaking. "I can never tell what your deal is because you never show any emotion. But Maya…"
"You don't think I know?" he snapped. "She's stuck in a daydream, coming back to this island. If she thinks we can 'rekindle' whatever pathetic attempt our relationship was, she's mistaken. I ended it two years ago," he broke the cookie in his hand, dusting his lap with crumbs. "I'll give her credit—she's not as annoying as she was. But she knows. It's not that I don't want to love her—I can't."
'I wish I could trust you. I wish you were a wise, kind friend instead of a gossiping acquaintance I've known for years but never particularly cared for.'
He laughed in his usual one-beat chuckle. "Why is that? I really am the worst."
.:.
The black and white film credits rolled.
Molly's eyes swept over Chase, but he was asleep, chest rising and falling slowly. His mouth was parted, head lolled to the side as his fist rested against his cheek.
She tossed a blanket over his form before stalking off to bed, a smile touching her lips.
A/N: Years ago I had this phase of watching Titanic obsessively because I was so upset over Jack's death (I don't know why I kept putting myself under more pain lmao) but my brother got so fed up with me he said he threw the DVD out of the window. How true that is though, I couldn't tell you...
Also, if you have watched the 1945 film Brief Encounter you might be aware that the quotes I've used aren't in chronological order. This is intentional as I wanted it to fit with the characters dialogue.
On another note, thank you to all of you who have read up until now and have favourited / followed / reviewed. Much appreciated! :)
allyelle~