SAINTS BEHIND SINNERS → BRUCE WAYNE

00 | as time moves on

Or perhaps her entire view of the world is jaded. Her fiancé did leave her behind — of course, he left the entire world behind not just her. So, using that logic, could Harlow even feel insulted by it? He left everyone he had ever cared about behind, not just her. No one had heard from him. Maybe that was why she made herself sober up with the situation, made herself stop drowning in her sorrows. She couldn't let Bruce Wayne destroy her life without being there. No, she had refused to let him be the person to break her. That wasn't his place in her life. Harlow Finley wanted to look back at the years she spent with him fondly. Those memories were something she wanted to cherish. When she looked back whenever she wanted to see just how much she had grown. How different she had become over the years. Memories are only as strong as a person makes them out to be, rather, they only hold the significance that a person places on them. Harlow felt as though it was fair to put no significance on any of them now.

Settling onto her couch, Harlow let out a small sigh. The book resting on her lap had been long forgotten, she opted for getting lost in her thoughts instead. Jonathan walked up behind her, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder so she didn't get startled by his presence. Harlow craned her neck to smile at him, "How was work today?"

A sigh tumbled from his lips as he removed his jacket, "The same old."

"I told you not to work at Arkham," Harlow mumbled. "I could get you a job at the hospital. That way you're not working with the prisoners all the time. You surely wouldn't be called into the court all the time either."

Jonathan chuckled, lifting Harlow's legs from the couch, placing them down in his lap after he took a place on the couch. The two had spoken about it from time to time, Harlow getting Jonathan to work at the hospital with her. Harlow worried about him working in Arkham, it wasn't the safest place to be around the clinically insane criminals that had once been running around the streets of Gotham. He let out a low chuckle, his hand rubbing circles into Harlow's calf that rested on his lap. A content hum fell from Harlow, "What do you want to do for dinner tonight?"

"I'm not sure," Jonathan smiled. "Alfredo?"

"That sounds good," Harlow shook her head, kicking her legs off of his lap and onto the floor.

"Harlow?" She turned back to look at Jonathan, a smile resting on both of their features. "Is there a reason you decided to hang around my apartment today? I would have come to the manor, you didn't have to stay here."

"I just didn't feel like going that far out," Harlow shrugged. "Your apartment is more home-y anyways."

"Home-y? Is that even a word?"

"It is now."

"Alright," Jonathan let his head fall as the chuckle moved through his body. "I can't understand how this apartment feels like home to you. There isn't anything that makes it a home."

Harlow shrugged, moving towards the kitchen of his apartment before calling out, "You're here. That's all I need, I guess."

"Have I secretly grown on you, Doctor Finley?"

"I guess you just weaseled your way in, Doctor Crane." Harlow smiled back at him, putting the pot of water onto the stove to boil. Jonathan pushed himself off the couch, pulling out some ingredients from the fridge to help with the meal. This was a common occurrence for the two — cooking together. They had been together about eight months or so, Harlow met him at one of the functions Wayne Enterprises co-hosted with Finley Incorporated, and he just wouldn't let her go without agreeing to a date. Harlow couldn't help but be enchanted by him; his smile drew her in, and his flirty nature enraptured her heart. Or maybe she had just been lonely, and Jonathan Crane helped her not feel so lonely anymore. Either way, she spent a lot of time in his apartment. It was smaller than her home (which was a mansion, she inherited it after her mother and father died a few years ago) and didn't remind her of Bruce Wayne. She never wanted to tell Jonathan that that was the reason. "Can you pass me the salt?"