Something Sinister

Hunter Pt. III

"What the fuck?" Harley hissed, holding his face and glaring at you. You didn't care, glaring back at him, and pushing him in the chest as he scoffed, hardly stepping back as you continued to push into his shoulders and chest.

"Y/N," Wanda said softly, "Stop."

"It's fine," Harley said, sighing as you finally exhausted yourself, falling into his arms as he sagged a bit, catching you as you sniffled.

"Where have you been?" you cried, glaring at him as you pushed away from his chest again, kicking his duffel as you walked past it for good measure.

Harley sighed, "College?"

You glared at him, knowing that he'd spent the last however many years at Stanford. He was in their engineering program and you know your dad had been really proud of him. He was planning on going to the graduation ceremony, even.

"Oh really?" you spat, "For every single day in the past year?"

Harley looked at you without wavering, his eyes swimming with regret for a moment as he cleared his throat, "I didn't think it was my place to be there."

"You were like an adoptive son to him!" you cried, picking up the empty glass your water had once been in as you hurled it at him. "You didn't even write! No text! No letter! Nothing!"

Harley ducked all the objects you were throwing at him as Wanda watched on curiously, just allowing it to happen. "You could have called!" you screamed, "Or sent flowers!"

"You don't even like flowers!" Harley yelled back, awkwardly fumbling as he caught the spatula you'd thrown at him.

You were heaving, eyes wild as your cheeks flushed with warmth and your body screamed at you to just sit down. You were still immensely sore from your fight with Kraven - more like, Kraven kicking your ass into the ground countless times - but you were easily able to find the energy to tell Harley off.

"I was mourning!" Harley cried, trying not to completely lose his cool as you snorted and turned back to your grilled cheese.

It was on the verge of burning. Oh what a mess.

"I'm Wanda," Wanda offered forth her hand. Harley shook it awkwardly before turning back to you.

"Please, Y/N," Harley pleaded, walking to the kitchen island and standing in front of you. "I'm here to help."

"You're here because you feel guilty," you snapped, "Not because you want to help."

"I really like Peter," Harley spoke softly, "He's always been kind to me and I know he's your best friend. I want to help you."

You glared at him, throwing a fry at him as Wanda groaned, "Those are mine."

Harley wasn't much older than you and Peter. He was only 22, where you and Peter were now both 18. But he was a smart, smart kid and you knew he was going to graduate early.

It was weird seeing Harley all grown up compared to the initial scrawny kid you'd once met. Harley was tall - immensely tall - with the broad kind of shoulders that fill out a nice, fitted long-sleeve shirt. He'd cut his sandy blonde hair that used to flop around immensely, so the curls were so perfectly placed on the top of his head.

And his eyes.

The bluest eyes you'd ever seen.

When you and Peter were sophomores in high school, Harley came to spend the summer at Stark Industries as an engineering intern. He'd just started college and he'd finally hit his growth spurt and you were very, very excited to see him.