Harley Quinn's (un: clownprincess) Inbox for Reparacija

[ridetheharley]

 

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[fortitudosalutis]

[ He puts a hand on her hip almost without thinking about, rubbing vaguely. It feels like the thing to do, even if he doesn't move to lie down next to her. He can't do that, can't let his guard down more than he already has. But for a moment, he just exhales and leaves his hand on her hip. Just for a moment.

Just for a moment, as the adrenaline fades.

It felt good. They didn't hurt each other.

Then he shakes himself. ]

I need to go.

[ridetheharley]

[ Harley smiles at Carver's hand on her hip. It's more than she could have asked for, even curled up at his side. She pats his bare chest once, but the touch lingers warmly at the center of it before her hand falls away. ]

Then go; it's okay.

[ Even though she knows or thinks he doesn't need that reassurance. Perhaps he does. But even if he did, she's sure he wouldn't show it. Not yet. And msybe not to her. Maybe someday once more trust is built between them. It's hard to tell the could haves and would haves and mights now, where everything is new and uncertain. ]

Have a good rest of your day, Carver.

[ She smiles, fingers wiggling as she bids him goodbye, a flirty smile flashing on her face. ]

[fortitudosalutis]

[ He watches her for a moment, giving her hip a final squeeze, and then reaches for his clothes. It was a business transaction, to start. He's not certain what it is now, if anything. A moment, certainly. But she has a nice smile and she's relaxed, seemingly content and with no reason to be wary of him.

That's nice. It won't last, but it's nice. So it goes. ]