Kissing Harleen as rushed as it had been, had been the most magical thing that I had ever felt in my whole life. There was fireworks and an explosion of butterflies in my stomach just from the feel of her lips on mine. When she suddenly pulled away, I instantly felt cold. She stared at me with wide eyes and her mouth was wide open. She started to cry again and I took her into my arms once more. "I'm sorry if I scared you, Harleen. I didn't mean too," I told her, hoping that I wasn't going to be, not only, kicked out of her apartment, but out of her life as well. She doesn't respond for a few minutes and she pulled away, leading me into her small kitchen with an even smaller round table.
I sat down while she leaned herself against the counter. Her head is hanging, but I'm unsure as to why that might have been. She looked over at me and cleared her throat. "Would you like some coffee or something?" she asked, her voice cracking. I nodded my head, smiling. Most women who asked me if I wanted coffee simply asked to get me into their beds, but with Harley I knew that she only had coffee on her mind. She walked over to a coffee pot and started to pour a cup. "How do you take it?"
"Black, no ice please," I replied and that's exactly what she had given me. Black coffee in a standard white mug, no lettering or logo on it. I recall the large chip that was at the top. 'Must've dropped it in the sink while doing dishes,' I thought to myself as I placed my lips right over the chip, drinking. I couldn't quite recall the last time that I had been in a college girl's apartment. I was used to my luxurious surroundings, but from the looks of it, Harleen was used to struggling for what she needed, much less what she wanted.
I looked up at her, setting my mug on the table. She was clutching another white standard mug in her hands tightly, her knuckles slowly turning white. She was nervous, that much was evident. Probably never had a man up here alone with her before. The professor's words ring in my head, reminding me that she wasn't used to being alone with a man. She stares into her coffee cup, not really wanting to gaze upon me. "I'm sorry about earlier...and...all this," she said quietly. I raised a brow and she looked up at me, her eyes open as she took a drink of her coffee.
"What do you mean?" I asked, perplexed. She sighed heavily, shrugging her shoulders.
"For wasting your time, I guess," she started, sounding rather sad. Like she really believed what she was saying about herself. "For the fact that my apartment isn't as immaculate as your mansion. For just wanting to bail on you before we even had the main course." I shrugged my shoulders, suddenly unsure of what I should say to her.
"Well, I think your apartment looks...nice," I told her, reassuringly. "I don't always enjoy staying at home with just Alfred as my company. It's nice to get out, see something new. Your apartment isn't the worse place that I have seen by far.
"But it's...it isn't even what I wanted to do, you know? Unfortunately, by the time I was through renting my books for class I didn't have much money left over to worry about my apartment. Hell, I don't even know if I can make next month's rent." I waved my hand, wanting to wash away her troubles and worries.
"Don't worry about it, I'll take care of it," I assured her, but she shook her head.
"I can't ask that of you, Bruce. You hardly know me." I shrugged my shoulders again.
"I know that, Harleen, but...I'd like to help you out. As a friend." She continued to shake her head.
"I still can't ask that of you. Even as a friend."
"Then why don't we find some common ground."
"Bruce, I am twenty-three years old. I think I can handle my landlord. There is no reason to find a common ground, because I am perfectly content with my job and how much it pays."
