*Okay, so I went ahead and decided I wanted to upload the last update. It's short, as it was intended to be, and I hope you like it. Thank you for reading!
Molly Hooper had never been a liar, nor had she started that day. Save for the wine, she'd deprived herself the right of drink at every instance the poison arose. She'd seen body after body—cadaver upon cadaver—of men and women who lost themselves in the drain of substance; stepped as boldly as they never would have dared sober, leading themselves and others to slaughter. One binge she dared take.
Tonight, she laughed so hard she kept a constant wipe at her eye; spoke through the deepest conversations she had since she'd been at study. She had felt the flutter from a compliment sugar coated in its subtle form, alongside the furrow of her brow at a long overdue tale. It was a whirl of emotional transition that'd leave her exhausted from the night, past what any drink she threw would give her.
She owed it all. And she owed it to him, the man most deemed psychotic, a hazard to her health, who had so simply given her a night unmistakably better than she'd ever thought she could hold dear.
Sally hadn't left the winery, even into the hours Anderson had long-since gone. If the pair of them had noticed, they expressed no mind to her, even as they, themselves, stepped out the door, a drunken tangle of chuckles and accented whispers. Trailing had been Donovan's intentions, losing them halfway along as the pair's cab split on the long route home, only arriving at 221 B once the sun began to rise.