“Expensive?” Ro chuckled, a full grin showing off her broken smile. Slowly, years of hidden enigma were peeling away and falling off like autumn leaves. Carefully, each resolute wall of sarcasm and isolation gradually began to lower. Why did she want to keep talking? Why couldn’t she just shut up and listen a bit? It was so easy- too easy to not just blather on about every little thing in her brain. Maybe that was the point of talking to a therapist, having that word vomit and sorting through the puke. “Well, if you’re this easy to talk to as a friend, maybe I’ll find a way- but that would be a conflict of interest or something, right?”
It wouldn’t make sense though, to have a normal batch of people around the motley crew that accumulated in Arkham. Each person had such vivacity that normality was easily outweighed as blase. “That’s everywhere I fear. But, stranger the patients, stranger the staff.” Paling at Harleen’s question, the sputters immediately started, “Oh! No! Nothing like that, I promise, I just thought that it’d be a nice thing to do, figure it seem neither of us get out much and um, ah-” Ro bit down on her lip trying to get herself together. “It’s right on the corner there.” Walking under a streetlamp displayed the black flush that had crawled across her cheeks, darkening the constellation of freckles on the bridge of her nose.
Gesturing to the end of the block, maybe no more than a minute walk, was a sizeable diner that took up a modest portion of the corner. Stoplight Diner, aptly named given its location. It’s rockabilly 50′s theme had bright swirly decals on the linoleum tables and oldies playing softly in the background. Approaching the door, Ro immediately grabbed it for Harleen, as if trying to make up for simply being human.
Internally, she began the argue about food. Shit, why did I have to mention going to eat? Could’ve been a fuckin’ coffee but no. Idiot. Holding up two fingers to the hostess, she pushed up her cat-eye glasses and gathered up a set of menus and led them to a booth nearby.
“Couple a waters for ya while ya figure it out?”
“Oh that’d be great, thanks.” And with that, she slid into her side, picking up a menu.
Harleen laughed, loud and genuine. But the hand she placed on Rosemary’s shoulder was a very gentle admonishment. “Chillax, Rosemary. I’m only teasing. You’re so serious with all your conflict of interest and nice things to do.” She noticed the blush, couldn’t help lowering her voice to poke just a little more fun. “Besides, we’re already alone.”
And they were alone in very typical Gotham fashion - a dimly lit street with a crumbling sidewalk. Except, of course, for the diner, which stood out like beacon against the surrounding dinge. Harleen firmly believed that a diner was only as good as its atmosphere. She’d spent enough time in New Jersey to know just how true that held. And the Stoplight Diner looked like it was gonna be good.
Harleen flashed a bright smile when Rosemary opened the door for her. But she let Rosemary take the lead since this was her haunt. And water was an easy yes anyways. She was never remembering to drink enough in the asylum... Maybe because it seemed so wet in there all the time. Harleen put the thought out of her head by clearing her throat and picked up the menu in front of her as she sat across from Rosemary.
“So what’s good here? Seems like....everything, jeez, I’m starvin’.” She glanced up from the menu, slightly sheepish, but nowhere close to guilty. “But like, actually, what’s your favorite?”
vaporwave
2087
stormborns
s-u-f-j-a-n-s-t-e-v-e-n-s
germansingergirl
romaincrisis
