Harleen Merlyn is the youngest daughter of Malcolm Merlyn and grew up in Starling City her whole life. Despite being Tommy's younger sister she spent most of her days with the trio; Oliver, Tommy, and Laurel. Although, she was closer with the two bo...
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I was officially bored. I had the night off from work, but the rest of the world didn't seem to know that. My Dad was out on business for the week and Tommy was out doing God knows what. He kind of just took off without me - which wasn't anything knew the past few years. It was like, when Oliver went missing - presumed dead - I mellowed down, threw myself into work and when I wasn't at work I was at home. And then Tommy just kind of went wild, like he had to party for the both of them now that Oliver was gone. Always out - in fact, I think I've seen him more this week that Oliver's been back than I had the entire five years Oliver was gone.
A soft knocking on my balcony caught my attention and I reached forward to grab the remote and turn off the TV sitting on the mantle of my fire place. I frowned over at the doors to my balcony, my view of whoever was on the other side blocked by the thick white curtains that I had let loose when it hit 8 and everything went dark out.
Another knock had me reaching over into my night stand and pulling my gun out of the top drawer and stepping over to it hesitantly. With one hand I raised the gun and with the other I pulled back the curtains slowly to reveal who was knocking at my doors at 10 at night.
Oliver Queen.
I sighed in relief, tucking my gun into my waist band to reach out and unlock my balcony doors to let him in. "You can shoot me if you want to, but it'll kind of ruin my surprise."
"I do have a front door, you know. We're not 16 anymore, you don't have to sneak through my balcony."
I had a large balcony that connected to my bedroom and it was the entrance Oliver always used when we were younger so he could stay and hang out with me once Tommy went to bed or whenever my Dad told Oliver it was time to go home. Because, as leaniant as my Dad was about things, Oliver being in my bedroom alone, in the middle of the night, was a no-no. Not that anything ever happened, or that I wanted it to happen. Oliver was like my big brother.
"Oh, but what's the fun in that." He threw my earlier words back at me and I narrowed my eyes at him. "Wow, this place hasn't changed in five years."
After locking my Balcony doors once more, I turned to take in my room like he was doing. It was a decent size on the second floor corner of the house. My bed was a California King up against the far wall with my photo collage decorating the tan walls behind it. And the on the one side was my door and then my walk in closet while on the other side was what led into my bathroom and then a set of white arm chairs with a table in front of the high rise windows. Lastly, there was my fire place that sat between the balcony doors and the table and chairs with my 32" TV sitting on top of the mantle.
I frowned, not knowing if he was making a jab at me or not, so instead I changed the subject. "So, what're you doing here." I took the time to put my gun back in my desk before jumping onto the bed. I turned so I was facing Oliver with a smile and pulled one of my plush pillows into my lap.
