Of course he goes to the spa sometimes. He wouldn't be Molly if he didn't, after all. Some massages, maybe a facial, getting his horns all oiled up and shiny. However, when he enters the place, something is... off. There's a tug on his heart, almost. That absolute knowledge that she's back from her travels.

The tiefling gasps when he hears that yell and runs down the corridor before carefully peaking into the nearby door. He's ready to apologize for possibly getting an eyeful of someone else... but he knows that hair. Those arms.

It has been nine months. Nine months of missing her like a lost limb.

"...Yasha?"