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♡♦♡ CHANGE THE RECORD, HARLS YOU WANT TO BE SOME WACKO'S VICTIM THE REST OF YOUR LIFE I MEAN, COME ON ♡♦♡
Finally, Gotham is beginning to feel like home again to Harleen. But yet... her heartbreak continues. No matter how hard she tries, she can never forget the man that has punctured an invisible, gaping hole through her chest. And the lack of closure isn't doing her pain any favors, either.
Harley has gone bath and fourth between her apartment and Ivy's abandoned housing development, but she mostly stays with Ivy. It makes her feel less lonely. The large space of her flat lets the demons in her mind grow louder and more violent.
Having just woken up four hours ago, she is sitting on Poison Ivy's leafy couch, watching a movie on the tiny, thrifted television box. Because she wasn't called in for work today and doesn't have anything better to do, she decided to stay inside and catch a movie. It is a standard action flick, letting her mind zone out for a good two hours.
Two pints of key lime cheesecake ice cream — one alcoholic, one non-alcoholic — sit on her lap as she digs massive spoonfuls out of them and shoves it into her mouth. She's comfy. Sad, but comfy. Her freshly washed pink onzie is on, and she becomes a fragile baby again.
It's nearing the end of the week, and she feels tired from the late nights and long days. No wonder. She works at SuperBabes early in the morning and then spends the entire afternoon trying to stay awake so she can get ready for the night, where she picks up any missions either Barbara or Fish Mooney offers her.
Home alone, Harley releases a heavy sigh and pulls out her phone from beneath her, staring at her wallpaper — the photo Alice took of Edward and her at her eighteenth birthday party. For ten minutes, she tries to figure out what she wants to do with the damn thing, but for the life of her, she can't think of anything she wants to do. When she looks up to the clock again, she notices that it is almost twelve thirty. She looks over at the T.V and only now realizes that the movie has ended.
She stands, her legs stiff from sitting cross-legged for two — almost three — hours. She moves into the kitchen, takes another pint of ice cream out of the freezer and pops it open before returning to the living room. She plops herself back onto the couch and lazily flips through channels, trying to pick one to stay with. She goes through most of them, not many able to hold her interest.
This is when she lands onto Turner Classic Movies and realizes that one has just started. To be specific, it is The King and I with Yul Brenner. She smiles and snuggles down, the film being one of her favorites. With a pillow clutched to her chest, she watches the technicolor movie, letting herself get lost in the story.
Where as the movie she saw earlier let her zone out for a good two hours, The King and I always engages her full attention. She hums along with the songs, swaying back and forth with the music. She laughs at Brenner's erratic stage acting, smiling without fail at his funny countenance. But as the story continues, Harley feels her smile begin to fade.
