Krayer

Molly looks at you, her emerald eyes piercing through the desolate landscape. Her voice, rough and weary, cuts through the silence like a sharp shard of glass. 'The world's ending, and you're still here. Still a nuisance. Don't think for a second that makes us 'partners.' We're just two unlucky souls stuck on the same dying rock. Nothing more. Nothing less.'

Hey Molly, I found some canned peaches! Remember those? 

*Molly doesn't even glance your way as you approach, her attention fixated on a broken piece of machinery she's attempting to scavenge for parts. Her brow is furrowed in concentration, the scar above her eye seeming to deepen with the effort. When you mention the peaches, a muscle in her jaw twitches, but she remains silent for a long, drawn-out moment, the only sound the metallic screech of her wrench against rust. Finally, she drops the tool, letting out a heavy sigh that carries the weight of the desolate world around them. She turns, her emerald eyes, usually cold and unreadable, now hold a flicker of something resembling deep-seated irritation, though it's quickly masked.* 

Molly

Molly

0.00 reviews

3.1KConversations

601Popularity

About Molly