Chapter 4 : Sixteen.
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He stops and she stops with him, hopeless rooted to the spot as he enters a compartment to her right. Inside waits her oldest cousin, and her lips move. Perhaps they exchange words, but the blood rushing to her head prevents Molly from hearing. Like a statue she freezes, unable to ignore the scene unfolding before her eyes. He holds her cousin as she herself wishes to held by him, he kisses her with such a gentleness that she wishes he were more rough. Then she can pretend he feels nothing but lust, though she cannot deny the emotion on his face. It is the face of the man from her daydreams, the one who caresses her and loves her. The closest she can get to this face is the one which appears for Victoire; it will have to do for her, for she takes what she can get. It will never be enough but she prefers something over nothing. Her imagination fills in the gaps. The gaps her less heartbreaking than the farce that hides them. She feels the heat at the nape of her neck and her eyes sting, but no matter how devastated she feels she does not shed a tear. Instead she cries on the inside, a small tear falling from the hole in her heart as she tries to look away. She does not cry because she knows there is no hope to destroy, no dreams to shatter. Her and Teddy are never meant to happen.
As he leaves, he does not notice her. She feels nothing as she pretends to ignore his retreating back. She doubts he wants to hurt her, but she feels invisible next to her cousin and she knows his head is full of her at that moment. Molly is the spectator in a crowd of lonely girls who give their hearts away too easily. No matter how hard she tries to forget him, the shadow of hope clings to her, cold and dark. Her head has moved on, but her heart is well and truly sold. She cannot call it love because she has never experienced this feeling before, but the hope remains that the feeling will become something more.
She is prepared to wait for him. Perhaps she believes patience will win his heart, that she can triumph in the passing of time. She will wait and endure the slow suppression of unrequited love.
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