"Babe, there's something tragic about you.
Something so magic about you.
Don't you agree?"
Thin, red lines ran across Molly's back, stinging to the touch. She craned her neck towards her mirror, arm bent oddly behind her to hold up the hem of her shirt. A strand of hair slipped over her shoulder and dangled down her back. After a moment she let the fabric drop over her back, concealing the angry red streaks. Out of sight, out of mind, she thought.
The light of Saturday morning spilled into her flat, coloring her pink and white blankets with soft shades of yellow and rose. Black cabs buzzed past on the street below, spiriting weekend tourists to the banks of the Thames to visit Parliament or the London Eye. Molly closed her eyes and tried to drown them out. Behind her lids, she saw flashes of violet, chillingly dark eyes, hands sliding down soft fabric… Her eyes snapped open again. She put her hand on her cheek and felt her face burning.
He had left her the night before, haughty and very pleased with himself, Molly shaking, nearly hyperventilating. It all seemed like a dream to her. She could almost feel his hands on her again, she wanted them there… No. Her face frowned back at her, reflected in the window. She could not let herself be drawn in by his charms. How could I have let him do that?
Her phone buzzed in her pocket. Expecting the usual blocked number, Molly was stunned to see Tom's smiling face light up her screen.
Hey molly! Id really like to talk to you about something, maybe we could have coffee sometime? :)
She stared at the message in disbelief. Before she could answer, his face was replaced by the default blank square indicating a blocked number.
Tell him you would rather be burned alive.
It buzzed again.
Or tell him that he can go jump off a bridge.
Either way, he should know better. You too. xx
Molly's frown deepened. She typed a short response, then waited for Jim to comment; Sorry Tom, I have plans tonight.
Could be worse, I guess it'll do.
It'll do, she thought bitterly. Perhaps out of anger, or because of a latent desire to rebel, Molly did something very stupid, and (she thought) very brave; She swiped her phone back to life, found Tom's number, and dialed.
"Hey Tom!" She feigned calm and control. "My plans just canceled, you want to meet for lunch? Great! I'll see you then!"
As she tied her pink scarf around her neck, her phone buzzed. Molly ignored it and stowed it in her purse. It buzzed ceaselessly all the way to the café, like an angry hornet trapped in her bag.
Molly waited in front of the café silently. It was beginning to seem like this might have been a bad idea. Jim had sent her almost 30 messages, but she had read none of them. She was too afraid. Wind lapped at her jacket, tossing locks of hair into her face. She brushed them back with a gloved hand and took a deep breath. Tom was nearly 10 minutes late. What could he possibly….
An old, grey car rounded the corner of the block and parked across the street from the café. Molly peered curiously at it, and waved when she saw Tom in the drivers seat. I didn't know he had a car now, she thought. Tom looked at her and smiled feebly. He made no move to get out. Molly beckoned him over, but he shook his head. Tears glistened on his cheeks. She took a step forward, but was thrown backward onto the sidewalk as a tremendous explosion wrenched the car apart. Her elbows stung on contact with the pavement. A piece of metal flew towards her and through the window of the café behind her, shattering the glass and eliciting screams of terror from the happy customers inside. Flames danced through the windows, shattered safety glass glittered on the ground.
Time seemed to halt completely. Screams of bystanders became muffled hums. Molly tried to stand but cried out when her elbow screamed in protest. She touched it delicately, and felt her hot blood mixed with tiny fragments of the pavement. A hand gripped her arm and pulled her from the ground, pulling her away from the burning car. She stared at the flames. The intensity of the light seared at her eyes, but she did not care.
A black car pulled in front of the wreckage, obscuring Molly's view. The hand on her arm tugged harder. She pulled away from it angrily. The car stopped before her, the back tinted window directly in front of her. Slowly, the window rolled down. Jim gazed at her from behind designer sunglasses. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, looked at the burning car on the other side of the street, then smiled.
"Having a bit of fun?" His gum cracked between his teeth. He swung his door open and slid across to the other sat. "Care to join me?" He rubbed the seat suggestively. Molly stared at him. For a moment she considered running, fast and hard towards her flat. A woman behind her asked if she needed help. Another was talking frantically into her phone to the police.
"Do you need the police?" Molly turned at stared at the woman. "Who is this man?" The woman was staring at Jim now, completely ignoring the wreckage. Molly looked at her, then met Jim's eyes again.
"No, its okay," She said. "My boyfriend is here to pick me up." From the corner of her eye Molly saw Jim grinning as she slipped into the seat beside him. He reached across her and slammed the door shut.
"You know, I used to think that you were ordinary, but now I think you're just stupid."
Molly stared, unseeing, out the window. She was more composed than she expected, considering she had just seen her former fiancé burn alive.
"You probably thought you were being brave," He continued, "but you are just stupid. But don't worry, it wont happen again."
"What is that supposed to mean?" She said flatly.
"Well, you know, if you wouldn't go off and do stupid things like that, I wouldn't have to get you a babysitter."
"I don't need a babysitter." She looked at him, finally able to look him in the eye. He had just killed a man, and seemed to have forgotten it all together.
"Apparently you do." He gestured at the driver. "Meet Sebastian. He'll be keeping an eye on you for me. You'll be taking some time off work, as well. I told them you have mononucleosis." He smirked. "They thought it would be best if you stay at home for a spell." The driver nodded, but paid them little attention. His mouth was set in a disinterested frown, as if the grey street was infinitely more interesting to him than his passengers.
"What, you're going to lock me up? In my own house?" Molly's voice broke. "You can't." Her hands shook violently, so she balled them into fists, forcing the blood from her tiny fingers until they where ghostly white.
"Um, I can, and I don't think you are in the position to tell me what to do." He pulled out his sunglasses and glared fiercely at her. The car stopped abruptly.
"Welcome home," Sebastian said dryly. Molly's flat loomed above the car. Grey clouds shifted overhead, making it look less like a charming residence and more like a prison. Molly gripped the handle of the door, but looked back at Jim. She half expected him to burst into laughter and mock her for actually thinking he was serious. He only frowned at her.
"Go on. Your time-out starts now." She pushed the door open and stepped out, but he caught hold of her wrist and pulled her back towards him roughly. She lost her balance and fell onto the seat.
"Don't be stupid. I am always watching you. Sebastian will be here, and who knows what he'll do. He's not as nice as I am." His eyes danced wickedly. "You never know when I might pop in for a chat." His lips brushed the back of her hand, and Molly cringed. His hand slipped from her wrist. Molly stumbled out of the car and stood on the damp sidewalk. Jim blew her a kiss as his window slid closed. Sebastian flicked a half smoked cigarette onto the curb, and the car was gone.
For several moments, Molly was rooted to the sidewalk. Thoughts danced viscously in her head, a mixture of fury, grief, and deep fear of what lay would be no end to Jim Moriarty any time soon, not if he had anything to say about it.