Will frowned as Molly turned her eyes away from him, and he felt a coolness spreading from the places where she touched him, making him shiver. He rubbed her arm with his hand, not so much to warm it but more out of comfort, his fingers soft on her skin. He wondered, where she was from, if it was normal for wizards to marry each other, if for no other reason than that they would have comparable lifespans. There were thoughts in the back of Will's mind that he couldn't deny, the idea of being with Molly for years, long enough that she'd see him grow old while she remained young. He didn't generally have worries about how attractive or not he was because it didn't really matter, but he couldn't imagine someone as beautiful as Molly with an old man on her arm.

Of course that might be a pipe dream anyway. No one here knew how long they'd stay, and either of them could be returned to their reality (or snuffed out of existence - there was no way of knowing what happened to someone when the disappeared from Darrow) without warning. Not only that, but there was still the uncertain threat of having Hannibal here. Will knew he was a killer now, that he was more than happy to manipulate Will and mess with his brain directly, but he didn't know for sure than Hannibal wouldn't eventually kill him.

Will moved his hand to touch her chin, tilting her head up, hoping she'd look at him. "If my mortality doesn't bother you, Molly, your possible immortality doesn't bother me," he told her. After all, if somehow they both did manage to stay here and together for as long as it would take for Will's life to run out naturally, she'd be the one left behind. Being a wizard and knowing that she might live a very long time, it was probably something she was prepared to have to face at least.