[ Left to stew in a minefield of mental juices, Molly is alone for all of fifteen minutes as Fjord happily makes them some bacon and buttery toast. He hums to the radio as he goes, still in his towel and perfectly at ease with Molly huffing and puffing at the TV at his back.
I love you.
He needs to stop blushing like a schoolgirl, fuck. ]
Breakfast is served! Budge up, make room for the chef. A hot meal for my hot boyfriend.
no subject
I love you.
He needs to stop blushing like a schoolgirl, fuck. ]
Breakfast is served! Budge up, make room for the chef. A hot meal for my hot boyfriend.
[ What a corndog. ]