Molly’s heart filled with so much euphoria, so much love, she knew she could burst any second. Her eyes were over-bright but it wasn’t the tears she shed when he sent her away, the last time the two saw each other, but, her eyes were dancing. They were happy, relieved tears that a person would shed when so many elated emotions made it hard to think or even speak clearly.
“I waited a long time to see you again,” she commented, memorizing his every feature in case they had to part ways again, she could always have his image cemented in her mind, in her heart of hearts. She leaned in for another hug, holding him tightly, too afraid that it was some illusion or a dream and Mohinder would dissolve like smoke.
She loved India: it reminded her of Los Angeles with the heat, the sea, and the sand in between her toes. Neither place was home to her, not even New York. Her heroes were her home. And hugging a man she had missed with every fiber of her being the first time in months, Molly felt like she was finally home for the first time in a while.