Ember ; Harley Quinn

• six •

Harley's POV:

It was a few nights later when I entered y/n's packed club. This place always had business inside, even during the day it was almost to max capacity. My eyes scanned the bar and then the VIP balcony area.

When I spotted Sasha in the far end of the balcony, I rushed up the stairs and towards her.

"Harley." Sasha greeted without taking her eyes off the dance floor.

"Do you know where y/n is?" I asked, getting straight to the point.

Sasha nodded, finally looking at me, "She's dealing with some things."

"Did I do something wrong?" I blurted out, my skin starting to feel hot while white anger bubbled up my stomach.

"Beats me. Y/n hasn't brought you up." Sasha shrugged nonchalantly. My heart couldn't help but ache right down the middle. She didn't mention me? Did y/n not talk about me at all?

Maybe she was afraid to tell people we were friends given my reputation. Was that all she saw me as?

"Sorry, Harley. I don't think y/n wants to talk." Sasha smiled apologetically before walking down to the bottom floor.

My lips fell down into a frown while I slumped against the railing. A bartender was walking by with a tray full of drinks and I grabbed one, welcoming the bitter taste.

My eyes drifted down towards the crowded dance floor, clenching my cocktail harshly when I noticed y/n dancing around with a few other woman.

I watched her dance for a few more minutes, a beaming smile plastered on her face and it made me even angrier. Why the hell was she ignoring me? What did I even do to her?

Storming down to the bar I saw her head for, I grabbed her arm and dragged her outside. The cool breeze felt nice against my heated skin, and I wanted nothing more than to slap her perfect face.

"Harley what the hell?" Y/n hissed.

"What did I do to you?" I snapped, pushing her chest, "What the hell did I do to make you ignore me?"

"Harley, go home." Y/n sighed, running a hand through her messy hair from all the dancing she was doing.

I clenched my jaw, cocking my arm back and slapping her hard across the cheek. A angry red scratch appeared on her cheek, small crimson dots beading up from where my gold ring cut her.

I almost felt bad when her y/e/c eyes softened, her palm reaching up to hold her puffy cheek.

"Fine. I'll go somewhere where I feel wanted." I sneered, turning in my heel and walking away from the nightclub.

Fuck Y/n Wayne and Damn her to hell! Maybe I would go and visit her father, leave a trail of his blood for her to come home too. I didn't need y/n Wayne or anybody else in Gotham. A queen could rule on her own and this city was as good as mine.

I walked a few more blocks before stumbling upon my good friend Romis club. This one was more laid back, still upbeat but upbeat and classy.

I plopped down to the bar and ordered several vodka shots. Downing the first four, I ordered three more rounds. I didn't want to remember this day at all.

When my fifth shot was down, the lights dimmed to a softer glow, soft guitar and piano melodies playing through the speakers. Goosebumps arose on my skin when the velvety voice of a seasoned female singer came through the speakers.

Myself, along with most of the club, couldn't keep their eyes off the woman. She sang with such emotion, hitting certain notes I didn't think was possible.

The entire time I heard her singing, I couldn't help but start to think about y/n and how different her club was. I missed the adrenaline of it all and getting drunk together.

But she didn't want to speak to me and I had nothing good to say to her. The more time I could spend at this club, the better off I would be.

I had to look out for number one from here on out. I had a city to run.

Y/n's POV:

After Harley left, I wasn't in the partying mood. All I wanted to do was go home to shower and then sleep.

I drove home without the aux, wanting to just sit in silence and try and find some peace in it. I wish I could talk to my father about how I was feeling, but if he knew it was about Harley then he wouldn't want to talk anymore.

I snuck through the mansion like a zombie, knowing it was well into the late night. I wasn't sure how much sleep I was going to get tonight, and wondered when Harley Quinn fucked up my sleep schedule.

I made a pit stop in the kitchen, grabbing a cup and filling it with ice and water. The alcohol taste living on my tastes buds made me sick to my stomach and I needed to wash it down.

"Master y/n, what are you doing at this time of night?" Alfred looked down on me, fixing his satin robe.

"There's a lot on my mind." I blew out, setting my empty glass in the dishwasher.

"Does it have anything to do with your father?"

I nodded, "I'm sure he's told you the news. He's mad I spent the day with Harley Quinn."

Alfred clicked his tongue, "He's just worried for your safety."

I rolled my eyes, "I'm twenty two! I'm not a child."

"You'll always be his little girl, y/n." The butler chuckled, "It's hard for him to accept you as an adult."

"Maybe he should try harder." I grumbled.

"Why the sudden interest in Ms. Quinn?"

"I don't know. She's different. Unique." I replied after a beat.

"If she brings you even the slightest spark of happiness, then I say she's worth hanging on to." Alfred squeezed my arm before bidding me goodnight.

I leaned against the counter, dropping my head onto the deep marble top. Why couldn't things be simple? Why did I have to go and hangout with the anti hero and create this dilemma.

I just need a few more days.

[...]

"What do you think about hiring a stage performer?" I asked Sasha while swirling around in my office chair.

"It's your club. You can do whatever the hell you want." Sasha snorted.

I chuckled lightly, "You're right. Because I kinda already did."

Sasha rose an eyebrow in question and I stood up from my chair, gripping my desk until the dizziness faded.

I led her out to the VIP area, a great view of the stage in front of us and our new performer.

"Who is she?" Sasha asked.

"Dinah Lance. Her stage name is Black Canary."