She never liked Ivy's long nails; especially since those nails that dug into her back and scalp. Always leaving ugly trails that, although they disappeared, made her cry silently when the dark swallowed their room. Those long fingernails were like flashbacks, in the loosest sense of the word. They brought back memories of a life in their cruel metaphor… that all happiness came from pain.
Harley traced the faint blue veins of her partner's wrist in the dark of their room, careful not to move farther toward her friend's delicate fingers and touch the blood crusted on the tips. Blood from her own shoulders. No, instead she made little designs and occasionally pressed her lips to her lover's palm, in awe of her delicate beauty as she slept.
It never ceased to amaze her just how gentle her best friend could be when she slept; how innocent she looked as she breathed quietly in the shadows. Since, usually her eyes would open, and she'd be glaring holes right into Harley's backside. Forcing her to stop singing or stop talking to thin air—or whatever it was that she felt like doing.
It was vexing no doubt, having a lover that was generous and kind and gave all of her attention away to you; and then a moment later, she'd be just as cruel and unrelentingly unforgiving as she had been kind.
Her companion stirred, and immediately Harley whipped her hand back (smacking her face accidentally in the process.) She massaged her face angrily and waited like dear caught in headlights for her friend to awake and start to yell at her.
But nothing happened; Red simply turned her back and to continue in her sleep in a more comfortable fashion. A sleep, no doubt filled with endless jungles that stretched far and expanded wide with tall, over-shading trees, and deep, unforgiving greenery. A place without Gotham, a place without plain annoyances… a place Harley hoped she would be invited in. It was no fun being left out of things, even in dreamland.
She waited a little longer, biting her lip as she waited for a surprise attack that would never come. Smoothly she slide back into a relaxed position and began to trace new patterns on her Beloved's back. Imaginary smiley faces and cute little hearts popped into her head, and she stifled a laugh. Such things weren't tolerated when Red was awake, and doing such when she was asleep was only considered a further insult.
Then tears fell quietly, slipping down past her chewed lips and onto the flimsy waterbed. Tears, that like the long fingernails, brought upon unwanted memories dreamless nights where the gloom was her only friend.
They were tears that were always unprovoked; but they came once in a while when she was afraid of them falling. Kind of like wetting the bed… (Except, she knew that if she actually did wet the bed like a six-year old, she'd probably be sleeping on their porch.)
Mother Nature was cruel, and defined her as a soul that could never be alone. A creature of habit; constantly mourning the malice of her once, and true lover from long ago; having never gotten over what she'd lost. Harley felt like a soul whom had been raped by the Devil and had still come to his call like a dog; even at the expense of never gaining his love in any normal and hopeful way. At the price of knowing the unbearable truth… that he could never love her to a healthy extent. Or if he really, truly loved her in any way at all?
Hahaha… she crumbled without motive or knowledge; perhaps just to show how fucked her life was.
She scooted gently against her Ivy's back and tried to regain happy thoughts; her eyes closed with such intentions as she felt herself drifting onward to the jungle.
Hopefully, they'd be stealing diamonds from archivists in their mutual reverie.
Though, a single thought in came upon her consciousness dismally before she finally left the bitter world for a better one.
Once, dancing with the devil… Now, caught in the vines of undergrowth… Which one is worse?