Day 10: Kiss Me Slowly (Parachute)
He doesn't understand why she came. He doesn't understand why he came with her. Why would she deliberately cause herself pain? She always did.
The room she stood in the doorway of now surprised him. The whole apartment shocked him. She'd told him that she grew up in a broken home. And he imagined their housing would've proven that. Perhaps he imagined the Quinn's living in a rundown apartment, barely scraping by. But he never imagined the penthouse apartment he stood in now. "Momma was a lawyer. And Pop was a criminal," she told him. "It's how they met." They were in Manhattan somewhere near the Stark tower, the silhouette could be seen out the large wall of glass.
It was the room of a little girl. A thick layer of dust settled on the whole room. It hadn't been touched in ages.
"Harls," a deep gentle voice calls from down the hall. The blonde turns to look at her less than successful brother. "How did Ma and Pop – how were they – were they getting along? I mean did she, ya know, have any regrets?"
Harley wanted to snort and laugh and giggle but the thought made the tears return and her throat closed again. "I-i haven't spoken to her since New" her voice cracked "York was attacked. She never liked what I did. You know that. I sent her cards at Christmas and birthdays, like you but she never responded."
"You didn't go to Pop's funeral?"
Harley shook her head. "Nah. I thought he was pullin' another con, like always. I take it you didn't go either?"
The brunette shook his head. "Nope." He popped the "p". "Well, imma head out." He walks to her and hugs her close. "I love you, Harleen."
Harley presses her face into his chest. He's nearly a head and a half taller than her. "I love you, too, Barry."
"See ya soon, kiddo."
The nickname causes her too pull away and punch him playfully in the arm. "I'm older than you, Bare."
"By a year, Harls."
"I can still kick your ass."
"Yeah, yeah." He started walking away. "I'd like to see you try." He disappeared from her view and a moment later the front door slammed. And just like that Harley fell.
She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's gone. She's really gone.
The only sane person in her family was gone. She broke down. It'd been a bad day. It'd been a bad week. Monday or was it Tuesday? she and Loki got into a fight that ended in him leaving her. Then Wednesday she got a call from her Aunt Jenny saying her mom died of a heart attack. She was orphaned at Twenty-seven. Then today was Friday or rather Funeral day. She'd only asked Loki to be there because she needed someone to cry too. They still weren't together. Not romantically.
She stood a moment later. Barely thirty seconds had gone by. She looks into deep green eyes. And after a subtle nod, Loki says: "I'll leave you to yourself," as he brushes past her.
She catches his wrist. "Stay," she tells him. "Please. I can't- I just can't be alone right now."
He looks back to her, the light from the window the beautiful city lights splashed across her face, pleading in her pale blue eyes. "Okay," he breathes.
Her hand slips down to his and she tugs on him gently. A gesture he's come to know as a hint to pull her close. And he does. He pulls her tight against him, his chin on her head, his arms wrapped around her, his hand rubbing smoothing circles in her back.
"I'm sorry," she tells him because it's been a rough week and someone needed to say it. "Whatever I said whatever I did, I'm sorry."
She still smells like cinnamon. And her eyes are red and puffy. And her hair is frizzy and a mess. Because it rained at the funeral but it was a sauna in the flat. And her make-up has run little track down her face. But she'd never been more beautiful. And he wanted her.
He doesn't say anything. Because he doesn't even remember what the fight was over. But he was pretty sure it was his fault anyway. His head dips and he captures her lips in a slow tantalizing kiss. Because he sees it in her eyes. The haunting look says enough. But the framed pictures everywhere spoke volumes. She was broken and in need of fixing. And she was asking him to. Because he was there.
She walks him in to the room, her childhood bedroom he realizes. He only had to look around for a second.
She starts tugging at his suit and he thinks back to the wine the drank and what he was pretty sure was three shots of tequila at the after party. And he pulls away. "No, Harleen. Not tonight."
A frown passes her face. And he wants to take his words back. But instead she nods and says she knows but at least take the jacket off and help her out of this dress. And he obliges. And they slip into the queen-sized bed. Because she's too drunk to drive and she wants to spend one last night in her childhood room before she has to think about what to do with the apartment. And Loki's just along for the ride.
Because he doesn't know where they're going. Not anymore. Because she's beautiful as she sleeps. With the skyline in the background and a soft smile on her lips.