Thank you all for all the amazing feedback!

I know many people were complaining/wondering about the length of the snippets. The truth is that some are going to be longer than others, but I am pretty sure none of them will be any less than five-hundred words.

Hope you guys enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Suicide Squad or Harry Potter.

Shame

Harry wasn't speaking to her.

A few hours after Harley had returned home alone while her Puddin continued to terrorize the streets to let off some steam - Harry was brought back to the penthouse, bruised and bloodied.

Instantly, Harley had been on her feet - prepared to help with a bag of ice and some warm soup. Harry had glared at her, really glared - his expression reminding her of when she had woken him from his nightmares. With not so much as a word to her, he brushed past her to enter his room. The door closed with a soft but firm click.

The next day, the only time she saw Harry was at meal times so that he could quietly eat his food before leaving.

She hated the silence. She hated the fact that he had not even bothered to look in her direction when she tried to initiate conversation to make it less suffocating. To make him respond to her in anyway...

When he finishes washing his plate after dinner and goes to leave as she tries to tell him a joke - all control snaps. She rushes him - throwing a punch which he catches easily despite his injuries, still not looking at her.

"Look at me." She demands, a haziness filling her vision when he doesn't listen. A snarl forms on her lips as she shoved her body against his violently, free hand managing to grab at a knife that had been left on the counter. "Look at me!" She screams as she swipes it at him viciously -

But the boy dodged her fevered attacks until his other hand managed to grasp that wrist. Then, he suddenly pulled her body flush against his before spinning them around in order to pin her against the fridge - some added pressure on her wrist causing the knife to clatter to the floor. Their breathes mingle as they pant heavily; Harley from undisguised surprise, Harry from anger. "All right - I'm looking Harley. I'm looking at you: a spoiled, immature brat throwing another temper-tantrum because I'm not acting the way you want me to." The words, though quiet, are laden with venom. It renders Harley silent; her blue eyes growing wide as he continued harshly: "I know you didn't expect me to jump around for joy after what you did - that's why you did it - so what is it that's bothering you? The fact that I don't want to look at a woman who almost had a child murdered for her fucking boyfriend's amusement?"

Harley felt disbelief flood through her - of all things, he was angry about the prisoners? She tries to speak - "They escaped - " only her voice comes out much quieter than she wanted it to be, much weaker.

Harry let out a growl: "Nine got lucky. One still died for shit."

"Yeah, the lights go out right after you choose." Harley responds, her eyes flashing as her voice rose. "Convenient luck - isn't it?"

"You were going to have them murdered for a game!" Harry yells the last word - chest heaving against hers and green eyes filled with thousands of emotions as he tried to gather himself.

Harley had already lost herself. "Why the fuck do you care so much!?" She yelled back. "They're strangers - they're no-one to you!"

"Maybe not - but they are to someone." Harry's voice is fierce, forceful. "Most of those people were in their thirties and twenties. What if they had kids? What if they were single parents? What do you think would have happened to those kids..."

"I don't care." Harley growled, ignoring the frantic beating of her pulse and the way the words tasted like acid in her mouth...

Harry shakes his head - a new emotion coming to life as he whispered: "Yes you do. You just pretend you don't so that your boyfriend won't realize that his creation isn't as perfect as he thought it was." Harley feels the breath leave her lungs; feels the first fractures in her perfectly constructed mask - but Harry was not finished. "You're mad Harley - completely and utterly insane with a love for violence. But, despite your best efforts to try to show otherwise, you are not heartless. Believe me, I know what it looks like."

For a moment, Harley is speechless - blue eyes ogling at Harry as he gazes down at her with...pity. The sight of it makes her stomach queasy. "Puddin was right, you're just all talk - no bite." Her eyes darken with anger, mustering all of it to spit out the next words: "You're a liar."

The boy's face became expressionless for a second, then a low, mirthless chuckle escaped him. He releases her arm, but before Harley could make a move, he shows her the back of his right hand.

Harley's breath stops; her words coming out in a stutter: "Wha -"

"You're not the first to have called me a liar - and you will not be the last that I prove wrong." Harry informed her quietly; stepping back a moment later to walk away.

Harley stares at the spot he had been; feeling completely numb as she remembered the words scarred into the boy's skin:

I must not tell lies.

She feels sick, so she hugs her stomach - trying to banish the feeling turning her stomach to painful knots and the words from her mind all at once.

It doesn't work.

Instead, she only manages to remember her words to him and the complete shit feeling increases to the point that tears fill her eyes. Dimly, she recognizes the feeling from when she and Mister J had come up with the hostage plan in the first place -

Only now she knew what it was and she wanted it to go away because she hated, hated it so much.

But the shame stayed till morning when she realized that Harry went away.

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