The sounds of Van Morrison filtered through the house as Molly rolled over in Andrew's bed. Rare sunlight came through the windows above her. Yawning, she sat up and stretched her arms over her head. She could hear Andrew humming in the kitchen so she grabbed her bathrobe and pulled it over her bare skin. He was busy cooking, lost in the music. She hoisted herself up on the island behind him, crossing her legs.

"And I shall drive my chariot down your streets and cry," he sang softly. He stopped when he turned around and saw her.

"Happy new year," she said, grinning.

He hummed and kissed her softly. "Happy new year," he said. "Hungry?"

"Starving," she answered. "What are you making?"

He turned back to the stove. "Pancakes," he said, waving his spatula.

"Mmm. My favorite," she said.

"I know," he winked. "Anything for the birthday girl."

"Andrew I said I didn't want to do anything for my birthday," she sighed.

"And we aren't," he answered. "I'm too hungover to drive anywhere," he laughed.

"Making pancakes is doing something," she intoned. "Last night was more than enough celebration."

They'd gone to Andrew's manager's house for New Year's Eve and stayed until two in the morning. Caroline had been lovely, but by the time they'd gotten a car home (several beers and cocktails later), neither one of them had the energy to do more than shower before bed. So she was surprised he was awake enough to make breakfast the next morning.

He turned to look at her. "Darling, today is all about you."

"Okay, so if its all about me, does that mean I get to decide what we do?" she asked.

"Of course."

"Okay, I don't want you to make a big deal out of it," she replied smugly.

He turned off the stove and wiped his hands off. "That's a shame. Because I kind of thought you'd want what I planned next."

"Mmm? And what might that be?" she asked, unimpressed.

He dropped to his knees in front of her, tugged her hips to the edge of the counter, and parted her legs. Molly yelped slightly as she slipped back on the cold stone, but when she felt his tongue on her clit, the yelp turned into a moan. He sucked gently, rolling his tongue along her core.

"Holy fucking hell," she cried, her fingers scraping across the stone. Heat built up in her body, eclipsing the chill of the stone underneath her.

He chuckled. "I thought you didn't want to do anything?" he asked, rubbing his nose against her inner thigh.

"Andrew, you can do this all fucking day," she sighed, bringing her hand to the top of his head.

"As you wish," he murmured, running his tongue along her core.

Molly stared at the high white ceiling, enjoying the waves of pleasure Andrew was bringing down on her. She felt him drag his finger up her leg before bringing it to her clit. He bit her inner thigh hard as his fingers danced across her core.

"Jesus Ch-r-iis-t," she stammered softly. She was breathing raggedly, gasping for air. "Please d-don't st-op."

Two of his fingers found their way inside of her and her hips bucked involuntarily. He chuckled softly as her back arched.

"You like that?" Andrew purred.

"Yes," she gasped. "Jesus, Andrew."

He sped his fingers up, draping one of her legs over his shoulders. Molly whined and arched her hips. He reached up and held her pelvis down with his other hand. His tongue returned and she cursed, her hands scrabbling across the counter. A loud crash sounded as a plate fell off onto the floor.

"Mmmm baby," he hummed.

She started shaking as he brought her to the edge. "Andrew," she whispered, her whole body tensing up. "Please don't stop. Please."

He kept going, rolling his tongue against her clit while thrusting his fingers in and out of her. Molly gasped when he hooked his fingers inside of her, causing her to tense even further. She bit her lip and clenched around them while stars exploded behind her eyes.

She laid limp, every nerve on end, gasping for air like a fish on dry land. She heard the tap run and she blinked slowly, her brain making everything go in slow motion. His hands came to the sash on her bathrobe and she felt the chill of the air on her bare skin. A second later, she felt him slide into her, bringing his hands up to her breasts.

She moaned softly and looked up at him. His gaze was full of fire as he moved slowly. His hands trailed down her body, making goosebumps rise on her skin. He brought one of her legs around his waist and pushed her other knee to her chest. The change in angle brought another moan from her and a smile from him.

"You are so fucking beautiful, Molly," he sighed, looking down at her as he moved slowly.

Molly's brain finally caught up with her body and she smiled at him as she came out of the first wave of ecstasy. He moved faster and she whined softly as she bit her lip.

"You don't have to be quiet, love," he said, scraping his finger nails up her stomach and splaying his fingers across her breasts. "There's no one around to hear you. Be as loud as you want."

She moaned rhythmically as he moved, quietly at first.

"Fuck, that's it, babe," he sighed happily, gripping her hips tightly. "Louder."

A realization hit her through the delirium: he liked it when she made noise. That was what got him off.

Just don't go too porn-y. The man knows every inch of your body by now and knows exactly what you like. He'll know if its fake, she thought.

She sat up on her elbows and looked him dead in the eye. "If you want me to be louder, fuck me harder, Andrew," she demanded.

He growled and thrust harder and she moaned loudly, her voice echoing off the high ceiling. His hands moved back to her breasts and he grabbed them. She threw her head back and moaned again. They moved in unison for several minutes, their moans and gasps echoing in the room. Molly felt herself begin to tense up and she cursed loudly. Another crash sounded as something else fell off the counter.

"Fuck!" she screamed, feeling her body clench and seeing stars again.

And then she was shaking and things were going in slow motion again. Andrew's hands came under her shoulders and sat her limp form up, pulling the bathrobe from her arms and letting it drop onto the counter. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her softly, holding her against his body.

"I fucking love you, Molly," he whispered, brushing her hair away from her face.

Her breathing was ragged and it was all she could do to sit upright. He kissed her softly and held her in his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist and his arms around her back. He moved slowly, kissing her intently and running his hands across her skin.

"Lay down," she whispered against his ear.

Andrew looked at her for a moment before pulling away from her and laying on the floor. Molly slid off the counter on shaky legs, steadying herself on the edge before kneeling down and straddling his hips. She tugged his shirt over his head and kissed him softly, her hair falling to the side like a curtain. He brought his hands to her face, moving her hair behind her ear.

She settled herself on top of him and began to move her hips slowly. The rug underneath them bit into her knees, but the pain was masked by lust.

"Oh fuck, Mol. Yes, just like that," he sighed, his hands gripping her thighs.

She continued her pace, kissing him lazily. His moans filled the room and his grip moved to her hips. His eyes bored into hers and she dragged her fingers across his bare chest, stopping at his throat. She clasped her fingers around it and applied light pressure, bringing a surprised gasp from him.

"Fuck," he chuckled. "That's new."

She sped up slightly, letting out moans of her own. He watched her move hungrily, gripping her hips tightly. She could feel him tensing underneath her body as she tensed herself. She felt his pulse quickening underneath her fingers at his neck.

"Shit, a chroï," he muttered, thrusting up into her.

Molly cried out, tensed, and collapsed against him, clenching around his cock. She felt him empty himself into her a few seconds later. She felt his heart beating in his chest as she rested her head against it. His arms came around her body, holding her tightly. She started to shake as lust disappeared and the cold took over. With effort, he reached up and tugged her bathrobe from the counter, wrapping her in it.

"I love you, Molly," he said again, sighing as he relaxed against the floor.

She lifted her head and looked down at him. Fully spent, she was floating in ecstasy. He was a thing of beauty with long dark curls, pale skin, and eyes that reflected nature back at her. She traced her finger tip down the length of his nose and across his lips.

I can't remember a time without him in my life, she realized suddenly. I can't remember what it felt like to not know he wanted me, loved me even. I don't remember what it was like to not want him.

Then:

That's just the fucking hormones talking. He just fucked you senseless. Get a grip. He's still fucking inside you for God's sake.

The internal battle continued.

I love that he's dedicated and patient and kind and generous. I love the way his eyes crinkle in the corners when he smiles and the way his hand feels in mine when we walk together and the way he smells next to me at night. I love...him.

Ah fuck.

"What's on your mind?" Andrew asked, stroking her hair. "You're looking very pensive."

Don't do it. Don't say it. You're not thinking clearly.

"I...," she started.

The words were on the tip of her tongue. If she were drunk, they'd have slipped out on their own.

Don't. Keep your head.

Her fear crept up and she panicked, pushing the words back down.

"I adore you," she said softly, laying her head back down on his chest.

He sighed contentedly. "I adore you, too."

Later, as she sat in a hot bath while he showered, humming, next to her, she considered her options. It was a fact that she loved him, and she knew it. The fear of saying it came from deep within. For so long, she had withheld her full affections from anyone because she was scared that committing to someone meant she'd lose sight of who she was and what she wanted. But now, she'd found a way to bridge the gap with Andrew. So why shouldn't she say it?

"I love you," she whispered tentatively into the steam, testing the words on her tongue.

They were foreign, but not terrible.

How does he say them so freely? she asked herself, resting her chin against her knees.

The water shut off and Andrew stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his narrow hips. He sat on the edge of the bathtub, hair dripping.

"What do you want to do next, Birthday Girl?" he asked.

She sighed. "I'm starving." Her stomach grumbled its agreement.

"I can fix that," he smiled, leaning down and kissing her. "Give me ten minutes."

She watched him get dressed and towel off his hair. Yes, he had changed considerably since she'd first met him. He was more confident and relaxed in his identity. He moved with more sureness and ease. He was unapologetic in his love of her or in expressing his wants and needs. He was more than worthy of being her partner, her equal. But was she worthy of him?

Her, with all of her drive and desire to help others. Her, with her one-track mind and ambitions. Her, with the emotional range of a goldfish and the desire to run away from any emotion at all. Though she straddled two worlds, she was an outsider in each. Andrew was the only place she felt like she truly belonged and that scared her. She'd never felt that way in her entire life.

When she was growing up Roma, she felt like an outsider. She didn't want to marry young, pop out kids, and then stay home forever. It was the equivalent of a caged existence. When she left, she became an outsider to her own family, but that was the price she was willing to pay. Now that she had accomplished her goals, she was still an outsider in a world that could not - or chose not to - understand her.

But with Andrew, she felt comfortable. He didn't judge. He didn't ask a million questions. He didn't treat her like an exotic being meant to be conquered or a foreigner meant to be removed. He just loved her, and that was more than enough. He worshipped the ground she walked on, ruining every other man for her. And the best part was that he wasn't putting on an act; this was just who he was. And she deserved someone like him.

Her mind made up, she stood and allowed the water to begin draining from the tub as she got out. She wrapped a fluffy towel around herself and padded into her room to get dressed. When she was finished, she headed toward the smell of meat frying. The pancakes from before were sitting on the island and Andrew was manning the stove again, the Van Morrison swapped out for Tom Petty.

Just tell him. Say it. It'll hang over you until you do.

She walked around the island and wrapped her arms around his body, resting her nose against his back. "I love you," she said softly, her heart pounding in her chest.

Andrew froze for a second and looked up from the stove. "What did you say?" he asked, looking at the tile backsplash. "I didn't catch it."

She smiled against his sweater. He had excellent hearing. He heard her the first time. "I love you," she said, slightly louder.

"Say it again," he requested, flipping several sausage links.

"I love you," she replied. Each time, it felt a little less foreign in her mouth.

"Again," he said.

Molly laughed. "How many more times do you want me to say it?" she asked.

He took the sausages out of the skillet and turned off the burner before turning to face her. "Say it," he asked, looking down at her.

She turned her face up toward his. "I love you, Andrew."

A peace came over his face as he put his arms around her and hugged her. He exhaled slowly and rested his chin on top of her head. "I love you, too, Molly."

So this is what love feels like.

Her stomach grumbled, interrupting the sweet moment between them. "Food," he said, turning and picking up a sausage link. "Here. Eat this before you pass out."

She smiled and bit into it. "There is no other man's sausage that I'd rather eat," she quipped, licking her lips and grinning at him.

Andrew laughed and took a bite after her. "Fuck, these are really good actually," he remarked, surprised at his own skill.

Molly laughed and took the plate to the island, sitting in front of it. He followed and sat next to her, picking up another link. She pulled the pancakes toward her and rolled one around a sausage link.

"Wasn't there a bowl there before?" she asked, noticing the absence.

"Yeah," he remarked, chewing. "You kind of knocked it off while I fucked you senseless earlier."

She blushed. "Shit. Sorry."

"Don't be. It was fucking sexy. And worth it, too," he assured her, kissing her softly. They ate in silence for several minutes before he spoke again. "Alex is coming in on Wednesday. We need to do a bit of reworking before the next leg."

The bubble of ecstasy she'd been floating in popped. The tour. He was leaving in just over a week. She was going back to Los Angeles. Real life called for both of them.

"How long are you guys going to be working?" she asked carefully.

"Right up until we leave," he said apologetically. "He's staying here, too."

Her heart sank. They wouldn't be alone anymore. "Does he have to?" she asked. "I thought Alex lived in Dublin?"

He sighed. "Yeah, but he doesn't want to commute back and forth if he doesn't have to."

"You leave a week from Monday though," she said.

"But you'll be prepping for your interview, right?" he said. "So we'll both be busy. We'll stay out of your way, I promise. You probably won't even know we're here during the day."

That's kind of the problem. You'll be so busy with work, you won't have any attention left for me.

"Yeah, sure," she said, dejected.

Don't get clingy now. Jesus, you tell him you love him and become a clingy fucking mess.

He tilted his head slightly at her change in tone. "Molly, if I had my choice, I'd say, 'Fuck the tour, I'm coming with you to L.A. until August.' But this is my job. I have to go. People are depending on me and I can't let them down. Alex is coming early because he has to. He is probably not buzzing about it either."

"I know," she replied, closing her eyes. "Why, though? Why do you need to rework stuff?"

"We're playing different types of venues on this leg. I just want to make sure they'll sound good," he explained. "Plus I've got a few ideas I want to work through with him on our own before the rest of the band joins us in London."

She sighed and wiped her hands. "I guess that means I can't walk around naked anymore," she remarked with mock defeat.

He laughed. "Its a free world and you are an independent woman, so far be it from me to tell you want to do. But I'd prefer if you didn't. You are a beautiful distraction, but still a distraction," he told her, standing.

"If I leave you alone, will you finish faster so he can go home?" she asked.

Andrew sighed. "I don't think that's how it'll work." He wrapped his arms around her from behind. "I wish we both could just stay here, like this. No tour. No court. Just us."

"I mean, Immigration might kick me out at some point, so I'm not sure how long I'd actually be allowed to stay," she quipped. She took a deep breath and leaned back against his chest, enjoying how it felt to be in his arms.

He cleared his throat. "We do need to talk about a few things, though," he said slowly. "And I think we should do it before Alex comes."

Molly sighed. She knew it was coming. "Yeah. Let's clear up and then we can talk," she suggested.

After washing up and tidying the kitchen, the two of them settled opposite each other on the sofa. He was sipping on a fresh mug of tea and she pulled a blanket around her tightly.

"So," he started.

"So," she replied.

"So on the miniscule chance you don't get in at Trinity, what's the plan for us?" he asked slowly. "Would we go back to long distance? Would you move here? What would happen?"

Molly inhaled slowly. "I don't think we would survive long distance," she reasoned. "Professionally, I am more than qualified to become a solicitor here. I'd have to study to sit an exam, but I'd be able to practice pretty easily. So I guess I'd move here when my contract is up with Bright Horizons, study, sit the next exam I'm eligible for and then start looking for work once I can."

He visibly relaxed and took a sip from his mug. "Okay. And if you get in?"

"I'll move here," she said with a confused chuckle.

"No, I meant where would you live? Before you said you didn't want to live out here since its too far away," he explained.

She considered her options for a moment. Tuition for the program would be a large amount of money. But if she got a flat share with another student, it could work...as long as she was very careful with her money. And only ate two meals a day. Or, she could live with Andrew and then save a whole lot more. But living together seemed like a big step and she wasn't really ready for that yet. Plus there was the issue of the distance and need for a car.

"I - I'm not sure," she started. "I figured I'd get a flat share or something close to the university so I didn't need a car. On weekends, I could come here. I don't really know what my schedule will look like yet, obviously," she explained.

"That'll get really expensive," he remarked.

"It might. And if I don't have class every day, living close to campus is kind of pointless," she agreed. "But I don't really have many other choices. I can't afford a place of my own completely."

"How many courses would you be taking each semester?" he asked.

"Three I think," she answered. "And its only one meeting a week for each course. But I'll still need time to do research and everything for my dissertation. So even if I'm not in class I still need to be close to campus since I won't have a car."

He thought for a second. "I understand the distance aspect. But it will be so much cheaper if you stayed here. So what's the issue with that?" he asked.

She twirled the end of the blanket around her fingers. "I...I'm not sure we're ready to live together."

"Not even by September?" he asked.

"I don't have an answer for you," she admitted. "You'll be on tour most of that time. Its not like we'll have a lot of time to develop the relationship."

"You've been here three weeks and we're fine," he countered.

"Andrew, I'm not ready yet," she answered firmly. "Please don't push me."

He nodded, holding his free hand up in surrender. "Fine. What about staying at my parents' house?" he suggested. "They've got extra space. They're only 45 minutes away from the city on a bad day. And you've got the train too. And with what you save in housing, you could get a car."

"Yes, because staying at my boyfriend's parents' house is definitely what I want to do," she countered, rolling her eyes.

He sighed. "I'm just trying to save you some money," he answered.

"Can we just wait until I get in to the school before we plan things?" she asked, getting frustrated.

"Don't do that," he said. She raised an eyebrow. "Don't shut down in the middle of a conversation. I'm trying to solve the issues in front of us. Its not helpful." He took another sip.

"I'm just asking to delay this conversation until we have more information," Molly replied. "There's no point in discussing it until we know if I got in or not."

He nodded and emptied his mug before setting it on the coffee table. "Next issue: tour."

"What about it?" she asked.

"I want to make sure you understand how different its going to be between us," he said. "There will be times when days pass between us speaking. And it won't be because I'm avoiding you or because I'm angry. It will be because I literally have no time to speak to you."

"I know," she said, as if it was obvious.

"I just want you to understand that any free time I do manage to scrounge out will be spent talking to you," he told her. "And you could go five or six days without hearing from me, at all. When I'm on tour, I'm all business. I don't fuck around - literally or figuratively. We pull in on the bus, the crew unloads and sets up, I do press or go to a radio station or whatever I'm lined up for that day. Then I come back, we do sound check, I try to have some time with the band, and then we go on. I shower, greet fans, the crew packs up, and then we're on the bus to the next location," he recited, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. "I literally have to schedule in a day just to do laundry."

She considered him for a moment before nudging his knee with her toes. "This is life with you, right?" she asked. "Anytime you put out an album, you tour for months on end. But you only put out albums every few years. It seems manageable right now."

"Really?" he asked her.

"I mean, I like a good plan as much as the next person, love, but until I experience you being on tour, I don't really know how to react to it," she explained. "I appreciate the warning and I'll obviously do my best to be supportive. But I don't see the point of worrying about it. For all you know, I could do just fine without you for months on end. Fuck knows Michelle will have a mountain of cases for me when I return, probably as punishment for applying to Trinity."

Andrew smiled. "Then there's the issue of us not seeing each other for seven months straight," he said.

"Fuck, yeah. I forgot about that," she remarked. "Do you have any off time on this leg?"

"Yes and no," he said, pulling his phone out. "It's usually just a day here or there, so nothing worth flying all the way over for. But there are about four days around my birthday when we're in Vienna. You could fly out then," he scrolled through his phone. "We're flying over to L.A. for Coachella the second weekend in April, but then we're off for a couple weeks before heading to Australia and New Zealand for three weeks. I think most of us are probably just going to stay in L.A. for the break and fly to Sydney from there."

"And that's it?" she asked.

"We're working on dates for a second American leg after Australia and three dates in Dublin at the end of the summer but Caroline hasn't confirmed it for me yet," he said. "But other than that, yeah. That's about it."

"Why would you play Dublin so much later than the other dates?" she asked curiously. "Why not do it at the beginning of the European tour?"

"Its kind of like a tradition I have; I like to start and end my album tours in Dublin," he explained. "I don't know why. Something about the hometown crowd, I guess. Makes it feel more official and final when its ends. Before this tour, I played a few smaller shows with the new material in Dublin. So I'd like to finish the tour that way, too. But Caroline told me they probably won't be until late August at the earliest."

"Cool," she said, her mind slightly inundated with all the information. "So...we should plan to see each other in Vienna around your birthday in March, then again at the end of April. Then, what, you're back in the States at the beginning of June until the middle of August?" she asked.

He nodded. "That's the plan. And your contract is up in...?"

"July," she sighed. "So I'd probably move no later than the middle of August if I got in. If I don't, then I can wait until you're done with the tour, I guess.

"I agree to the terms, Counselor," he joked, smirking.

"Good," she answered.

He extended his hand and she took it, expecting a handshake. Instead, he tugged her toward him, making her straddle his outstretched legs.

He looked at her in silence for several seconds. "Can I ask you something?" She nodded. "What made you change your mind? Why did you suddenly commit to us?"

She sighed. The truth was, she didn't really know what exactly triggered it. It was a gradual realization, for the most part. "I think I just sort of realized how much I missed you and us. It wasn't something I came to in a specific moment, more gradually."

He smiled. "Whatever it was, I'm glad it happened."

"I found the note I wrote you, when I left," she said suddenly. "In your wallet." He blinked and looked away. "You kept it. Why?"

"It was the only physical thing you'd touched that I could keep. Nothing at the rental was mine," he said. "I couldn't bear to get rid of it."

Molly smiled and leaned against his chest. "I love you," she sighed, surprised at how easily the words came to her now.

He wrapped his arms around her and Molly sighed contentedly. His heart beat, slow and steady, lulled her into a dreamy daze. Her eyes started to flutter shut, then his phone chimed.

"Fuck they're early," he cursed, looking at the screen.

Her head shot up. "Who's early?" she asked.

"I know you said you didn't want to make a big deal out of your birthday, but my mum found out and insisted on coming over with a cake," he explained.

Oddly, the panic that would have normally filled her at the idea of a surprise like this didn't appear. "Its okay," she said, sitting up. "I could go for some cake."

***

"Thanks for the ride again, Raine," Molly said as the car came to a stop in the driveway at Andrew's house. "Are you sure you don't want to come inside? I feel like I owe you something for all the driving."

Raine shook her head. "It was my pleasure. I can't stay though," she said. "I've got to get back to John. Let me know when you get an answer."

"I will," Molly replied, shutting the door.

She waved as the car went back down the driveway and disappeared. Her mind drifted back to the interview and a surge of pride went through her. Even though Diana had told her the interview was a formality, Molly walked in and dazzled them. They were not only impressed by her qualifications, but truly stunned by her work with Bright Horizons.

"I must say, we are quite impressed that someone with your track record and experience would choose to continue their education at Trinity," one man remarked. "We are an excellent institution, but you graduated from Berkeley - surely you could have attended there?"

"I thoroughly enjoyed my time here when I took part in the foreign exchange program," she replied. "It was a natural choice for me when considering continuing my education."

"Yes, well personal history aside, why should Trinity offer you a position if you are not a resident of Ireland?" another man asked. "This is a highly competitive program. Why should we give this place to you when there is nothing keeping you in Ireland once you complete your studies?"

Molly had considered how much she should share. Diana knew about Andrew, but she wasn't sure how much she had told the other interviewers. She decided to play it safe, all the same.

"My partner actually lives in Ireland, so I was planning to stay on, mostly because long distance is very difficult," she answered. It wasn't entirely true, but at that point she would say whatever it took.

"Really? With the track record you have?" the first man asked. "Why wouldn't he just move to you? Your career has all the makings of becoming truly great. You could help an awful lot of people in America."

"I could help an awful lot of people in Ireland, too," she countered, earning a smile from Diana.

"If admitted," Diana had asked. "What area of study would you focus on?"

"Most likely refugee and human rights law," Molly said, though she knew her former teacher was already aware of this.

"Tell me, what are ways in which the Direct Provision system can be altered to improve the lives of persons in need of international protection?" Diana asked.

They're testing you, she remembered thinking. Fortunately, she'd spent the better part of the two days prior scouring the internet for relevant information on the Irish refugee situation.

"The biggest challenge these people face is the waiting. While we can bring on more employees to process applications, hold interviews, and assess cases, we must not forget the quality of life of each person," Molly had said carefully. "From my research, I have found that the bulk of persons within the Direct Provision system feel it is lacking in communication and response to issues that are raised."

She cleared her throat and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Furthermore, persons in need of international protection often feel dehumanized for the pure and simple fact that they cannot live their lives in a way that resembles their home life at all. For most of the people in the system, they would thrive if they were just permitted to do simple things like cook their own food. It was a great culture shock for me when I first arrived as a student how different Irish cuisine is from American," she explained.

"So your solution is more workers and better food?" the woman had asked with a smirk.

"No. My solution, respectfully, is to treat them like the human beings they are," Molly clarified. "Give them the small comforts of home that we can allow. The warmer they are treated by the government and society, the more likely they are to become fully functional members of society. To take pride in their lives here," she said. "If they take pride in where their new home is, they are more likely to participate in society in a productive manner."

Diana had hidden her smile of pride behind a mug of tea and the others had fallen into a pleasantly surprised silence. The rest of the interview went well and Molly had been seen out with assurances that she'd get an official decision soon.

Molly hurried inside as a gust of wind came. Elwood greeted her at the door and she knelt down to scratch him behind his ears. She could hear strains of music coming from the studio as she took her coat off. Andrew and Alex had been sequestered in the studio since breakfast that morning and she didn't know what their dinner plans were.

She crossed the kitchen and pulled open the door, her high heels clicking against the tile. Alex spinning around in a chair aimlessly as Andrew picked away at a tune on his guitar. Alex froze when he saw her in the doorway, looked her up and down, and let out an appreciative whistle.

"Whoa," he said, taking in her calf-length pencil dress and heels.

"What?" she asked, looking down at her clothes.

"You look...whoa," he remarked.

"Like good whoa or bad whoa?" she asked. "I wear this to court all the time."

"Good. Very good," Alex grinned.

"Alex," Andrew warned, putting his guitar on the stand before walking over to her. He gave her a kiss. "You do look really good though."

She smiled up at him. "I was wondering about dinner?" she asked, cocking her head to the side. "Should I go ahead and start cooking or are you guys finished in here?"

"Oh - ehm... I think we're pretty much done for the day," he replied, looking over at Alex.

"Good. So did you want to cook or should I?" she asked.

"I can do it," Alex offered.

"No, you're a guest," Molly insisted.

Alex scoffed. "Guest? I practically lived here for two months straight when he was demoing his last album. I probably know this place better than you," he laughed.

"Alright then," Molly said. "I'm going to go change."

Alex went into the kitchen and began preparing dinner while she took the stairs to Andrew's room. She was halfway through unzipping the dress when she felt Andrew behind her. She smiled, knowing his intentions.

"What about Alex?" she asked as he slid the fabric from her skin.

"Fuck Alex," he muttered.

"I mean, I could, but he'd have to get in line," she quipped over her shoulder. "And I suspect you'd get jealous."

He smiled against her bare shoulder. "How was the interview?" he asked, drawing lazy circles on her skin.

She sighed. "It went really well. I actually think I impressed them."

"Mmmm, of course you did," he said, sliding the dress from her body.

"No really, I'm glad I studied up on Direct Provision last night," she said. "I really blew them away with my ideas on how to improve it."

She stepped out of her dress and bent to put it back on a hanger. Andrew sat on the bed and watched as she tied her hair back into a loose bun and began taking off her makeup.

"That dress does things to me," he remarked, leaning back on the bed.

"I feel like most of my clothes have that effect on you, honey," she replied, looking at him through the mirror on his dresser.

She could see he was hard and smiled to herself. No way was she giving him anything with Alex in the kitchen, fully within earshot. His gaze stayed on her as she moved across the room to grab her pajamas from her side of the bed. When she was dressed, she went into the bathroom and washed her face quickly.

"Where are you going?" he asked as she walked back toward the bedroom door.

"Downstairs," she remarked, as if it were obvious. "You might want to handle that before you come down though." She pointed at his hard on. "I'm sure Alex has probably already seen it before, but it does make dinner rather awkward." She bit her lip to stop laughing as she heard him slump back on the bed while she walked away down the hall.

Alex made a simple pasta dish with a salad and as they ate, both men quizzed her on her interview.

"So what did you say was your solution?" Andrew asked, twirling spaghetti on his fork.

"I basically said that if refugees are treated like human beings and given small freedoms that remind them of home like cooking their own food, they'd be much more likely to be productive members of society as a whole, as well as become more loyal to those who give them those small freedoms," she replied. "Its very simple, but by doing so it gives the people in the system a bit more control over their lives in a time when they have so little," she added. "Its about making a necessary program more positive for those that have to endure it."

Andrew smiled at her from across the table, his eyes sparkling.

"Right, but doesn't that just encourage more people to come and seek asylum?" Alex asked. "Isn't the whole point to make it difficult so everyone doesn't just keep showing up?"

"Yes and no," she answered. "There is no reason we have to make people suffer as they seek a better life. They've already been through hell. The entire waiting process is hell. It costs nothing to be kind to others."

"Okay, I see why you like her now," Alex said to Andrew. "I mean, aside from the obvious," he added.

Molly blushed and smiled at Andrew. He winked at her from behind his wine glass.

"Are you feeling confident you'll get in?" he asked.

She nodded. "I'd say ninety percent."

"Are you living in Dublin then?" Alex asked.

"That's to be determined," Andrew interjected before she could reply. "I've offered her to stay here because rent is so high in the city. But she doesn't want to."

"Excuse the hell out of me for wanting to A) be close to campus and B) not expect a free ride," she remarked sarcastically.

"You'd probably save a lot of money by staying out here," Alex remarked. "Hell, if Andy was open to roommates he wasn't sleeping with, I'd be petitioning to stay here. Its so feckin' expensive."

Andrew gave her a pointed look. "From the mouth of a man what actually lives in the aforementioned city."

"For the record, I didn't say I was completely opposed to it," she countered. "I asked for time to think about it. There's a very clear difference."

He sighed and rolled his eyes dramatically. "If you say so."

"Don't a prick," she snapped at him, annoyed at his insistence in speaking about the subject and his sarcastic tone.

Alex's eyes went wide and he returned to his plate, glancing between them as though he were watching a tennis match. Andrew looked at her over his wine again, swirling the glass. She stared right back, slipping into what she liked to call 'Court Molly'. It was a skill she'd honed over years of practice in and out of the court room, questioning witnesses and negotiating deals. The goal was to be just intimidating enough to get her opponent to back down, but not to cross the threshold to scary. As expected, Andrew broke first, looking away from her with a scoff and putting his wine glass down.

"So...are you excited to go back to L.A.?" Alex asked. "Happy to be getting back to work?"

"Yes and no," Molly answered. "Its been nice to have a break, but I'm starting to get restless," she said with a chuckle. "I hate being too lazy for too long. Also I'm slightly afraid my boss will kill me when I come back," she added.

"What will you do when you finish your course?" asked Alex.

"In theory, stay here," she remarked, looking at Andrew. "Sit the solicitors' exam to transfer my credentials, and then hopefully become a solicitor here."

"So you'd be able to practice in Ireland and America?" he asked.

"Possibly. The California Bar requires a certain amount of continued education credits taken every three years or so to maintain an active status," Molly said. "If I'm living here full time, I likely won't keep my active status in California. But I could easily get reinstated if I wanted to."

"Oh right," Alex said. "So...do you do legal advice for people who aren't clients of the nonprofit?" he asked hesitantly.

"I have done pro bono work before, yeah," she said, twirling her fork.

"Could you look at something for me?" he asked.

"Uh...like what?" she replied, putting her fork down.

"My contract for the tour," he supplied. "I don't want to impose, but I just want to make sure everything's right. I've never really thought to ask anyone before, but I've never really had a solicitor or whatever in front of me. It can get a bit confusing sometimes."

"Seriously, Alex?" Andrew asked him, incredulously. "When have I ever let you get screwed over?"

"I just want to make sure everything is okay, Andy. That's all," Alex said. "Its nothing personal."

"Nothing personal? You're asking my girlfriend to look over the contract my tour has with you," Andrew scoffed. "In front of me, no less! If you need money, Alex, just fucking ask. I'd give it to you without any questions."

"Its not about money, Andrew," Molly said, catching on to Alex's point. "This isn't just a fun thing he does on weekends; this is his career. He has the right to make sure he's making good decisions."

"We're friends, Molly. He's been with me from the beginning," Andrew said. "I have never let him do anything I didn't think was fair. Nor would I actually offer him something I didn't think was fair. He gets the biggest cut of all the touring band because he has been with me so long!"

"For fuck's sake, Andrew," she sighed. "Just because he's your friend and you have history doesn't mean Alex doesn't have the right to protect himself. Just because we're together and I love you, it doesn't mean I wouldn't get a contract between us looked over. Its just good business."

He sighed and stood up. "Fine. I'll leave you to it then."

"Andrew -," she started.

"No, you two should do this. Its important that Alex feels supported by me," Andrew said, putting his hand on the other man's shoulder as he passed by.

She watched as he downed the rest of his wine and went upstairs. "I'm sorry if that was awkward. You have every right to seek your own legal counsel anytime, regardless of who the contract is with or what it is for," she told Alex when she heard Andrew's bedroom door shut.

"You love him?" Alex asked.

She hadn't realized it slipped into her speech so easily. "I - yes." A blush rose in her cheeks.

"Good," Alex sighed. "He has loved you for years. I was worried that this wasn't real, that he'd be hurt again."

"This is real, Alex. I'd never hurt him," Molly insisted.

"You broke up with him in October," Alex remarked.

She winced at the reference and sighed. "It...I was going through...a lot...at that...point. I pushed him away when I didn't mean to. I panicked."

"You're not going to panic again?"

She took a deep breath. "As long as he doesn't push me too fast, no. I don't plan on panicking again." He seemed satisfied with her answer. "Alright, we should probably look at that contract," she said, reminding herself of their purpose.

An hour later, after discussing the contract completely and helping Alex finish he dishes, Molly bid him goodnight and went to find Andrew. He was sitting in the beat up leather chair, noodling something on his Takamine and scribbling something in one of his many notebooks. He looked up when she came in, but didn't move.

She went through her nightly routine, brushing her teeth and washing her face. She emerged from the bathroom to find him still seated as she rubbed lotion into her hands. She could feel the tension in the air and she knew he was upset about her offering Alex advice.

"What is going on?" she asked, sitting on the end of the bed in front of him. "Why are you upset about me giving Alex legal advice? He's your best friend. You should want him to be protected."

He scoffed. "That's not what I'm angry about." He scribbled something else down roughly, clenching his lips together.

"By all means then, enlighten me," she remarked.

He sighed heavily, placed the guitar on its stand, and put his hands on his knees, facing her. "Before that. When you stared me down. Do you really think I don't know what you were doing?" he asked, pushing his glasses up his nose.

"What?" she asked, confused.

"Molly, I understand you have certain practices that have become common for you to use in certain situations," he said. "And I understand that it is because of these practices that you are as successful of an attorney as you are." He swallowed. "I do not appreciate you trying to intimidate me to get your way. I am not one of your witnesses or an opposing attorney that you can stare down and bend to your will."

"That is not what I was doing!" she said, knowing it was a lie.

He looked at her in annoyance. "Molly I may not have the degrees and qualifications you do, but I am not a stupid person." His voice raised slightly. "I do not appreciate you trying to intimidate me. It feels like I'm being manipulated and that's not fair."

"What do you mean? I've never tried to manipulate you!" she exclaimed, glad Alex was on the other side of the house in a guest bedroom and couldn't hear her.

He tilted his head. "No, you haven't. But you know you have this power over me. You know there is this connection between us that I cannot fight!" he exclaimed. "It is not fair for you to try to control me like that when you already have so much control over me to begin with." He dropped his volume quickly, as though he realized he was yelling unintentionally. "Please don't do it again."

She sighed and folded her arms across her chest, unsure if she should be surprised or hurt. Most people didn't pick up on her trick, not even Oscar.

"Please don't treat me like I'm on trial with you," he said softly.

He's going to need a bit more finesse than others you've been with, she thought. Or no finesse at all. He already does everything you ask of him. You don't need to intimidate him into submission. Well, at least not outside of the bedroom.

"I'm sorry," she swallowed. "It's an old habit. I will...try not do it anymore."

He let out a long gust of air and shifted in the chair. "I love you," he said.

"I love you, too," she replied, leaning over and kissing him. "Let's go to bed."

He stood up and stretched as she crawled up the bed. She was fully prepared for a full blown fight given the way he stormed off, but he was surprisingly calm. As she settled in under the blanket, she watched him undress.

Pale and lanky didn't exactly scream sex symbol, but it wasn't his body that attracted her - it was his intelligence and kindness. It hit her for the first time that her time with him would end in just a few days. She felt her eyes sting at the corners and blinked rapidly. He went to brush his teeth and she sighed, bringing her knees up to her chest.

"You alright?" he asked, coming back in.

She sniffed quickly and laid down on her back, avoiding his gaze. "Yeah," she said.

He flipped off the overhead light and turned on the one on his night stand, pulling out his ever-present book. Molly sighed and rolled to face him as he read.

"I feel like I have an audience," he remarked as Elwood jumped onto the bed and stared at him as well.

She smiled and reached for the dog's head, scratching him behind the ears. "When you go on tour, does Elwood go to your parents' house?"

"Ehm... its actually kind of a shared custody arrangement, to be honest," he said, propping his open book on his chest. "Technically, he's their dog, but ever since I got this place, Mum has been shipping him here for longer stays when I'm home. I've got more space than they do. With the holidays, Mum wanted a bit more space, so he's here. But when I leave, he'll be back at theirs." He scratched the dog lightly on the head. "I'd get a dog of my own, but I just don't want to commit if no one will be there while I'm on tour, you know? I don't think its fair to ask anyone else to take care of one or to just leave it for months on end with a strange person its not used to."

"Maybe we could...get one? After I move?" she suggested softly.

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. "We could...but wouldn't it essentially be my dog if you weren't living with me?" he asked.

She looked at him. "I think I'd rather figure out how to live with you than live away from you again," she said.

He blinked in shock, closing his book and turning to face her. "What brought this sudden decision on?"

She blinked away the tears and failed as her throat tightened. "I'm really going to miss you."

"A chroï, don't cry," he sighed, putting his book aside and opening his arms. "Please, it kills me to see you upset at all. C'mere."

She sniffled and scooted closer to him. "I didn't realize how far away August actually is."

"Well don't think about August," he said. "Think about March. We'll see each other again then. Its only six weeks or so."

A tear fell down her cheek and he swiped it away. "I know. Its just... everything has been so nice. Its like we've been in our own little world here. I almost don't want to go back."

"At dinner you said you were eager to get back to work," he reasoned.

"Yeah, I am," she admitted. "I think its more that I don't want to leave you."

Andrew sighed deeply and took her face in his hand. "Darling, one of the reasons I love you so much is your dedication to your job and your clients. I would be really disappointed if you gave all of that up just to be with me." He kissed her softly. "When you move here, you'll have all sorts of people to help out. Focus on the ones in Los Angeles for now."

She took a deep breath and settled against his chest. "March."

"March," he repeated, stroking her hair. "Then you get me for two whole weeks in April."

"But I won't see you again until the beginning of August," she lamented.

"I'm sure once your contract ends, you can come see me on tour," he reasoned. "If we finalize the dates, we'll probably get a break around the middle. Or we'll have a residency or something." He caressed her cheek. "This will be fine. We'll take it one step at a time, okay?"

Molly nodded, feeling the anxiety in her body begin to dissipate. She listened to his heart beat as he wrapped his arms tightly around her. In no time, she relaxed into sleep.

***

"And you're all checked in," the smiling woman in front of them said. "Have a great flight, both of you."

Molly wished she could copy the woman's cheerful mood. Instead, she felt like a weight had settled around her neck and she had to keep blinking rapidly to push tears back down. Andrew slipped his hand into hers and led her away from the check in desk. He shifted his backpack on his shoulder and tugged his beanie down on his head.

"All checked in?" Caroline asked them as she came up. Alex followed behind her.

"Yeah," Andrew answered. "Security?" he asked, gesturing to the lines leading toward the security officers.

Their group got in line and after half an hour, they were through to the international terminal. Caroline and Alex walked ahead of Molly and Andrew, giving them a little bit of privacy.

"How wild is it that our flights are leaving thirty minutes apart?" Andrew asked, trying to fill the silence between them.

"Wild," she said softly.

It was almost as if the universe had planned it, which she was grateful for. It meant she didn't have to leave him any earlier than necessary. But it also meant sharing their last moments together with Caroline, Alex, and Rory once they met up with him.

"Here's the gate," he remarked as they came to a stop.

He dropped his bag on a large section of seats and she handed him his guitar case. Caroline and Alex were sitting a few rows away, chatting quietly. Molly sat down on the edge of a seat tentatively.

"You don't have to wait with me," she said. "If you've got things to take care of."

He sat down and pulled her next to him. "All I care about right now is spending as much time with you as I can. We'll have the whole plane ride and then the entire tour to take care of things. They can wait."

She tried to focus on the feeling of his arm around her, memorizing the way he smelled. Alex had been kind enough to excuse himself back to his flat in Dublin two nights beforehand. He said he wanted to say goodbye to some friends, but she knew he probably just didn't want to be a third wheel on Andrew's last day with her. 

After saying her goodbyes to Andrew's family at lunch, the countdown finally set in in her mind. She and Andrew barely left his bed, making love then cleaning up, then grabbing a snack and then going again. By the time evening rolled around, they were both spent. 

Then Andrew drew a hot bath and they soaked in it, her laying against his chest. When the water had cooled, it was time to go to sleep and she curled up next to him, her body fitting like the perfect puzzle piece. 

In the morning after a breakfast she had to force down, they'd finished packing their last few things and got into the car Caroline had sent. The journey to the airport was a quiet one, with him sitting next to her holding her hand in the back seat. The countryside flew by and she tried to memorize it because she knew it would look different the next time she'd see it. The greens and browns and yellows and greys were beyond any she'd ever seen before. 

"Rory!" Alex's voice rose from behind her and Molly turned to see the same blond man from Andrew's Christmas party walking up the terminal toward them. 

Andrew stood and she had to bite back a smile when she saw how much he dwarfed the other man. Rory looked at her and then Andrew beckoned her over. 

"Rory, you remember Molly?" he said, introducing them again, sliding his arm around her shoulders.

"Of course, how could I forget," the other man said shaking her hand. "You had on that green dress that..." he stopped suddenly, a blush rising in his cheeks when he saw Andrew looking at him. "Nice to see you again," he added quickly. 

Molly chuckled, forgetting her sadness for a few moments. "You, too."

"British Airways flight 0934 with service to London, England will begin boarding in twenty minutes at gate 307," an announcement came over the the loud speakers. 

"Right, that's you," Andrew said to her. "We should head over."

Molly sighed and walked back to her bag on the row of seats, slinging it over her shoulder. Caroline and Alex came over to say goodbye to her. 

"Oh, it was lovely to meet you," Caroline said. "Hopefully we'll see each other again soon."

"Apparently I'm coming out to Vienna for Andrew's birthday," Molly said as she hugged the other woman. "So maybe we'll see each other then."

"Maybe. Have a safe flight," the older woman said, letting her go. 

Alex hugged her tightly.

"Take care of him," Molly whispered into his ear. "Please."

"Always," he whispered back, giving her a wink as they parted. "See you in March."

"Same to you," she told him. 

Rory gave her a wave.

"I'm gonna walk her over," Andrew told the others. "I'll be back."

He took her bag from her shoulder and carried it while they walked. As they walked across the terminal to her gate, she felt like time slowed down. His hand was in hers and for a moment, she allowed herself to think back to the first time she'd left him.

It had been easy for her to slip out in the early morning after he'd gone to sleep. She'd carefully packed her things back into her bag the night beforehand while he'd been getting ready. She was surprised at how much noise he could sleep through, but she figured that years on the road had forced him to evolve the skill for survival. The copious amounts of alcohol he'd drank hadn't hurt either. 

She hadn't really felt anything until she was halfway over the Atlantic ocean on her way to JFK, but even then it wasn't really sadness to be leaving him. It was more like the feeling that she'd just had an experience that would completely change the rest of her life. And after she'd landed in Los Angeles and resumed her normal routines, the feeling was brushed off as adrenaline or even a hangover. 

But now, she realized she'd been right. Her life had changed because of that summer on the coast of the Emerald Isle, looking east into the Irish Sea. Andrew was, quite probably, the best thing that had ever happened to her and now she faced months without him once again. Before, she didn't realize how much she cared for him and needed him. Now, his impending absence made her heart hurt.

They came to a stop in front of the gate and he handed her bag over. Passengers were walking around them, but she barely noticed them. He pulled her to his chest and sighed heavily. As he hugged her, her anxiety eased. He kissed her softly and looked into her eyes. 

"March," he whispered. 

"Vienna," she answered. 

"I love you," he said, giving her bag back. 

"I love you, too," she replied. She inhaled his scent and steeled herself. "I should go." She took a step away from him. "I'll text you when I land at Heathrow."

Andrew nodded. "Have a good flight."

"You, too," Molly managed, giving him a small wave before forcing herself to turn and walk toward the jet way. 

Once she scanned her ticket, she turned and looked back. He was still standing there, his beanie pulled down over his long dark curls, pushing his glasses back up his nose.

Yeah. You love him, she thought with a smile as she turned back toward the plane. You're moving here for good. This is your new home.