Harlivy & Hivy

Reading Between The Lines

By A_Spicy_Bowl_of_Olives

The lone lamp light twitched lethargically above her as cicadas chirped a monotonous tune into the warm spring evening. The sun was nearly done setting as the blonde watched those golden hues in the sky bleed into magentas before cooling into rich blues across the Gotham River.

She had seated herself on a creaky bench near the water, taking the time to touch up her foundation while she waited. Harleen was doing her best not to look at her watch, as she found every time she did so, not even a minute had gone by since she’d last check. She sighed slipping her compact into the pocket of her leather jacket, bouncing her leg as she listened to the soft breeze billowing through the trees of Robinson Park like hushed whispers. The blonde swallowed as its melody drifted to her ear— she bounced her leg a bit faster.

To say the doctor was anxious was a bit of an understatement but then again one couldn’t blame her…first dates were often a bit nerve wracking.

To be fair, the blonde supposed she had been on several ‘dates’ with Poison Ivy in the past, however she just hadn’t exactly realized they were in fact dates. They had been fun, lighthearted romps with little thought and plenty of reward; Harleen always regarded them as casual excursions between friends, but now that the two were formally girlfriends, the doctor found herself viewing their dynamic in a far more serious light. Naturally this led to the over-analyzation of every aspect with which the girl carried herself, from how she spoke, to her mannerisms, even how she chose to style her hair—when in the past she had never given any of those things so much as a passing thought. Hell, it had taken her nearly a full hour to decide on what to wear tonight as she critically examined every piece of clothing in her closet with an unforgiving eye. She nearly ran late before she finally decided to return to her first option: just a simple red dress with a pair of low black heels and a weathered, black jacket to match…this was still Gotham of course, even when dressing nice if you didn’t present yourself with a bit of an edge you were a walking target in the city. Admittedly that was less of a problem for Harleen now that she had a well-known—and well feared—super criminal to call her girlfriend.

Harleen felt the smile pull on her lips. Girlfriend, she repeated the thought to herself, feeling the lightheaded sense of giddiness that came with her new normal of dating Poison Ivy. She couldn't help but giggle to herself quietly, swinging her legs a bit beneath her seat. A part of her wanted to tease herself for acting no differently from when she was in gradeschool, scrawling the names of her crushes in her journal beneath the covers—testing if 'Mrs Harleen Frances Bernie' or 'Mrs Harleen Frances Bash' sounded better—but she didn't care how silly it was to be so starstruck: she was dating the woman she was secretly in love with. It was exciting! But of course it came with an entire laundry list of anxieties. Committing to a relationship was always scary, but it was doubly nerve wracking when one has already decided on the very strong feelings they harbor for the opposite person…while simultaneously having decided they will absolutely not be revealing to said person that they love her anytime soon. The mystery of how the redhead would react to such a confession was too great a question for Harleen’s nervous mind to consider at the moment, so she chose to ignore it for now and just enjoy what she had going with the redhead.

She almost checked her watch again before defiantly sliding her hand beneath her thigh to stop herself, trying to let the tranquility of Gotham River in front of her occupy her antsy thoughts. She had only been waiting about three minutes but to her it felt like a lifetime. She couldn’t quell the urge to bounce her leg again, restlessly. She huffed to herself in disdain as she forced it to stop. “You need to be more patient,” Harleen admonished herself, "what are you, seven?" she fisted the fabric of her dress strictly over her thigh. ‘Fortune rewards the patient, Harley’, that sweetly raspy voice recalled in her head, ‘good things don’t just come to people like you, ya know pumpkin? You have to be willing to be a good girl and wait for them, you can’t just go gallivanting around like a headless puppy looking for them. Honestly kiddo, however did you manage to make it this far in life before we met?’