Bygones

Chapter 19

Lines are constantly drawn in the sand, in the sky, wherever. But over time, they fade. For some, lines were made to be crossed, and others were made to never look back. Never return. But, there are those made to bend. Harley has certainly bent her fair share, but she'll break them all for Bruce.

That's why she can't sit still. Harley can't stand around wringing her hands, doing nothing. She's risked a lot this far behind the scenes. It's time to do more--- a lot more.

She sighed and moved from the sofa, throwing the plaid blanket off her shoulders. Her eyes surveyed the room, and that's when it hit her. Memories of Bruce and the family room flooded her mind, particularly one from the first few months of their relationship. They were sitting right here on this sofa side-by-side. He had his arm around the back of it with his body angled towards her. His hair was a little messy, which seems to be his signature look these days. It always makes him look sexy. He wore a fitted navy henley and jeans showcasing his other best assets.

Harley smiled at the thought of him looking casual because he always wears a suit but would dress down for her. They talked about their respective lives, childhoods, and anything they could think of. That was the first time she noticed how his eyes lit up in her presence, and his gaze never strayed too far. It was intense.

But that was also when she knew they had something special between them. It prompted her to make memory notes, remembering how the light caught Bruce's disorderly hair, the scruff on his chiseled face, the soft-looking lips she wished would kiss her, and the strong hands pulling her gently towards him until they were snuggled close.

Things like that made Harley say, "I want to kiss you. Not your face, although it's totally kissable, but your dimple. Right there."

She poked her finger at it. "You're the only guy I've ever had the urge to kiss their dimple."

He smiled, upbeat and expectant. "Good because you're the only girl I've ever had the urge to lo--- tickle."

They both knew he was going to say love but covered it for something silly and less pronounced. And out of the blue, Bruce tickled her. But then the memory shifted to the Bat Cave and one of their training sessions. It was similar but different. Harley had just finished a circuit and was worn out. "Planks are a form of torture designed by people who don't need to do planks in the first place," she bemoaned.

Bruce laughed and came behind her with his hands on her waist. They swayed side-to-side, no music but their own. His lips pressed tenderly to her neck, and her senses worked overtime. She thought he would snog the life out of her, and she would let him, but then the tenderness changed. It turned playful when his fingers raised to her sides and tickled.

Harley laughed and threatened to pay him back, which he ignored. His hands kept rising, with silly tickles along the way, until... he accidentally touched her boob. The playfulness stopped, and the air changed. Her head rested on his chest as she gave no resistance to the action. His hands wandered under the sports bra, and his heart beat as fast as hers. It was a beautiful moment shared between them. Intimate, full of wonder and desire, which ended too soon because neither wanted to get carried away or cross the line yet.

Now she feels like someone has punched her in the heart, not the gut or the face, but the heart. It's a heart sickness that can only be cured by Bruce. Life was messy and complicated. It always had been for Harley and probably always would be. The only times it wasn't were the ones she shared with this great man, her fiance'.

They could do the simplest things, like toss pebbles into the stream, share a tub of triple chocolate ice cream, or talk about nothing, and even then, she knew she was blessed. So, she stalked out of the room, walking with purpose. Her destination: the one place she'd find Bruce's friend, colleague, and partner in crime fighting.