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♡♦♡ OH HARLEY, WHAT HAVE YOU TURNED INTO MY DEAR ♡♦♡
Rays of early morning sunlight filtering through the blinds pulls Harley Quinn out of her sleeping state. Or at least, that's what she thinks, but maybe it's the sleepy little grumble that sounds somewhere to her right. She squints against the sun for all of three seconds before shutting her eyes again and pulling the comforter up to her shoulders, hugging the fabric close to her chest. It's nice and warm, and Harley is still pleasantly floating adrift a comfortably sleepy haze. She's not ready to wake up yet.
It's for that reason, and for that reason alone, that she doesn't shoot out of bed. Quinn drifts in her solitary bubble for at least another ten minutes, walking right along the precipice of unconsciousness when another small groan sounds beside her. However, this time the noise doesn't just rouse. This time, it abruptly nibs her ear and smacks her awake.
Eyes shooting open, Harley immediately sits up, blinking numerous times against the lighted scenery. Cold air affronts her bare arms as the comforter falls and icy panic laces up her spine once she realizes that she is still bloodied-up and in her supervillain costume from last night's mission. She groans loudly, scrambling to grab the comforter and cover herself up again, from head to toe.
Squeezing her eyes shut, she counts to three in her head, accompanying the numbers with deep inhalations and slow exhalations in a meager attempt to fully wake up. When Harley finally feels like she's one-hundred percent snapped herself awake, she opens her eyes and glances next to her. She smiles softly, Bruce and Eddie sprawled out in a less-than-graceful manner, barely covered by the sheets.
She carefully grabs another part of the comforter and tosses it over the wild hyenas, covering them up against the cold. She extends her arm to pet them, but just as she does so, Eddie smacks Harley's cheek whilst Bruce makes another little noise. She snatches her hand back, smiling as she thinks to herself. Spoiled brats.
Quinn slowly and carefully sits up on the bed mattress, looking at her surroundings. There are things such are shoes, clothes, underclothes, empty cups, dirty plates and other things of the sort strewn all over the room. It's like a hurricane has whipped itself through the area before promptly exiting through the window. She groans, massaging her temples. Her life is a chaotic shit-show.
Seven months have passed since her eighteenth birthday at the Cullen's house. Seven months since she had sliced her fingertip on one of her birthday gifts, causing Jasper's instincts to override him and attack her. Seven months since Edward had broken up with her.
Quinn looks up from her lap, her eyes landing on a framed photo of Edward on her nightstand table. She frowns deeply.
Thinking about him has become easier as the months pass by. Maybe because she is starting to convince herself that he had never existed, like he was some kind of dream. But no matter how hard she tries to convince herself, she has not once forgotten about Edward Cullen. Ivy is starting to believe that she is getting better, because Harley smiles more. But little does she know that he is in her every thought. It hurts her to know he intended on this. She can still remember when he left.
