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Stepping outside, Pamela felt like she could breathe again.
She’d always hated being trapped indoors for too long, crammed between four walls and close enough to brush skin with another person. Just the thought of being in a crowded place, full of cigarette smoke and too loud music, made her skin crawl, but she hadn’t come to this place for fun.
The alley beside the club was dark, and only the faint lights of nearby windows was enough to make out the three figures before her. The music blared at her back as the door finally shut, throwing the space back into silence as the tell-tale sound of someone getting their ass handed to them broke through.
“And that’s for breakin’ my favorite necklace, you piece of shit.”
Ivy couldn’t help but smirk as she leaned against the wall of the club, head tilting skyward to watch the smoke from nearby buildings creep into the sky. If she’d ever been one for smoking, she figured now would have been a good moment to do so.
When the punches and cursing stopped, Pamela dropped her gaze. In the passing lights of a car, she was able to make out the figure looming over the two men at her feet. Porcelain pale skin and blonde hair cascaded with the bright neons of the woman’s clothes, blinding for a moment before blending back into the dark grays surrounding her. It was only then Pamela noticed the rain..
As the woman approached Pamela shifted her jacket, attempting to let in as much of the cool rain as she could. She’d always found a kind of peace in her inclinations toward nature, reveling in the things so many people seemed to shy away from.
The woman stopped before her, rolling her right shoulder before throwing herself against the wall beside Pamela. She groaned, dramatic and overly loud, before turning her face, cheek pressed against concrete. “I think he broke my fuckin’ nose.”
Pamela raised a brow at that, only now seeing the splotch of blood she sported around and under her nose. Her lip seemed to be bleeding too, but she couldn’t tell where it might have started or ended.
Reaching out a hand, Pamela turned and placed her palm against the woman’s cheek, thumb pulling at the corner of her lips. “And just would did those mean ol’ men do to incur the wrath of Harley Quinn, hmm?”
Harley only grinned in reply, big and feral, and Pamela reveled in it. “Guess they never learned that no really means no, ya know?” She laughed then, small and to herself, before turning into Pamela’s touch and smearing blood against her skin.
Pamela made a face, lifting her hand to wipe off on her pants. Tucking her other hand in her sleeve, she used the leather to wipe gently across Harley’s face, clearing away at least some of the larger smears of blood. Her nose would definitely swell, along with her lip, and there would be definite bruising. They’d find out by morning whether the nose was broken or not.
“You and J get into another fight?”
Harley spit out a mess of saliva and blood in reply, crossing her arms in a way that told Pamela she was correct. She sighed, dropping her sleeve. She hadn’t needed to ask, not really. It was one of the only reasons she’d even came to this hovel of a club anyway. If there was ever word of a hot-tempered blonde wreaking havoc, Pamela would show. Always.
Harley only huffed when Pamela stayed silent, sliding deeper into her space. She dropped her head on the woman’s shoulder, uncaring of the awkward angle. “Men are all pieces of crap, ain’t they?”
Pamela let an honest laugh pass between her lips. “You don’t say? Could have fooled me.”
Harley grinned, eyes jumping up to Pamela’s. “That’s what I like about you, Red. You don’t give anyone the time of day who don’t deserve it.”
Pamela hummed, letting Harley’s hand slip into hers only after the second time their fingers brushed. “You know you could always do the same.”
Harley sniffed, creating some horrible nose of coagulating blood and snot that Pamela couldn’t help but gag at. “Suppose I could. But I ain’t as strong as you.” It was a quiet admission, somber against the woman’s usual happy demeanor, and it made Pamela squeeze her hand all the tighter.
“You’re the strongest woman I know, Harls,” Pamela returned, just as genuine. She turned, pressing a gentle kiss to Harley’s hair as the two of them stayed curled against each other. Protecting each other as well as they could from the rain. Perhaps even the world.
Pamela could already feel her hair beginning to stick to her face, thick and swollen with water even while braided, when Harley grabbed the sides of her face and decided to kiss her, bloody lips and all.
It wasn’t the first time, and Pamela didn’t think it would ever be the last either. She simply closed her eyes and met Harley halfway, taking all the anger and hurt that came with each bite and lick offered her way. Harley kissed the way she fought, rough and demanding yet oh so personally. Like you were the only thing in the entire universe, everything coming down to just whatever it was between you and her, and the sensation was almost more intoxicating than she could ever hope to get her plants to be.
When Harley stepped back Pamela’s mouth tasted of blood and a mix of alcohol and she grimaced, wiping at the corners of her lips where she could feel the residual blood. “You taste like shit.”
Harley laughed, smiling as she took both of Pamela’s hands into hers. Eyes practically gleaming even in the dark. “Can I stay at your place tonight, Red? Pretty, pretty please?”
Pamela wanted to roll her eyes at the theatrics, but was unable to completely dampen the grin that slipped across her face at the sight. “When have I ever told you no?”
Harley bounced on her heels before letting go of one of Pamela’s hands, only to start tugging her toward the street. “Just never know when my luck might run out.”
Pamela wanted to tell her it never would. That she could never have too much of Harley Quinn in her life. Could never turn the other away, even if she was beyond her breaking point. She wanted to tell Harley this, scream it from every street corner along with so many other things, but she didn’t. She never did.
Instead she stayed quiet, reveling in the feel of Harley’s hand gripped tight in hers, and imagined how soon they would be back at her apartment, naked and dry after a shower before curling up together in her bed, and how, for a while, the world would indeed come down to just the two of them.
For Pamela, her world would always come down to just one Harley Quinn, and it was only a matter of waiting for Harley to realize and make her own choice. To decide where her world began and ended, and who she wanted in it.
Pamela knew this would take time, and that it would hurt. Oh hell, would it hurt, every step of the way and for both of them. But when it ended she also knew it would make the thing between them shine out all the brighter.
So, for now, Pamela would wait, and have patience. She would welcome Harley in with open arms, and give her all that she could. She would be there, no matter the risks or threats thrown at her. No matter the fights or heartbreaks. No matter how much it hurt to see her leave day after day.
Pamela would always be waiting for as long as Harley would allow her to.
It was the least she could do for the woman she loved, after all.