We're all rotten, buried and forgotten,

Living it up underground

It was when he touched her that it sent her crumbling, a downward spiral into that seamless decent into wrath. It was more like a freefall into the plunging depths of madness. It was impressive, unpredictable and dangerous. It was like a beast of its own, a familiar friend inside of her. For some, anger would be their downfall, their quest to ruin as they lose it all. But for Harley, it was a weapon of mass destruction. It was that rage that helped her survive the aftermath of him. It was a blessing and yet her very curse.

For a dragon's fury living within a human woman was dangerous for all people involved. Yet, it kept her alive, while she fought to survive when all odds were stacked against her.

Wild eyes narrow as his finger imposes her chin, the piercing amethyst hue of her gaze leering out with such feverish intensity toward him him. She is stunned. His smirk was enough to make her cringe internally. His voice is but a whisper and yet he might as well screamed it out loud, impishly, and taunting with fingers pointing her way. 'Pet' the word echoed within her mind scalding her with the heat of lava. Her voice cuts through the space between them, oddly level, the notes are low and carefully constructed, anger weaving and seeping to the pores of her words. Oh how he stoked the roaring flames of this fire. "I am no one's god damn fucking pet." She swiped his massive and imposing hand away, turning her cheek. Her rage was a seething beast that could not be tamed; it roared its mighty head to life as her body quivered from its wildness. She is consumed. It rattled within its containment like a monster in a cage and she lets it out. Oh how she embraces it, and nurtures the flame which gives her power and stifled her raging war of emotions that roared inexorable vigor within her mind. Of all the emotions, anger was what gave her control.

Nope, without question this was utterly and completely Amor, and she meets him with her metaphorical fangs flashed and talons drawn. Oh he had no idea the beast he had woken from its slumber.

At least she wasn't batshit crazy, although some would argue otherwise.

He claimed he left because it was the best thing to do. What a cliché notion for a man to hide behind. She nearly broke out into laughter. "Get off your high horse, cowboy. For the record, you failed with flying technicolour." If that was his best, she would hate to see his worst. She sneers, violet eyes aflame lashing like a raging wild animal. She simply couldn't be stopped, the inferno growing too large even for her to rein in its magnificent fury.

Come on, he was smarter than that, to accuse her of boredom. "You sound like you're talking about yourself. She drew in a steadying breath, fingers folded into tight fists at her side. Harley decided to explain to him but a small sliver of a story, her story. Although she couldn't help but wonder if he knew and simply chose not to care. "When, you took off after you grew bored and left me to deal with your hell of a mess. I was on Ryker's radar. It wasn't just your empire he was after." Oh she had paid for his boredom and 'lucky' her, she had caught the eye of yet another monster. Her voice is something low and dangerous, even to her standards.

It took three damn years of sordid misuse before she was able to exact her revenge and manage her escape from Ryker. She almost killed the king himself, only Ryker was a tough beast to kill. Or he would have been dead like the rest of them. Oh she could remember that grisly scene so painfully vivid. All these memories she had shoved down deep and she hoped to leave them there. Harley shook her head to try and keep those bitter memories there, buried beneath the rubble of her life. It gave her a semblance of normalcy.

His voice then curls about her like fire ants marching on her flesh. Alive? She sure as hell didn't feel alive all those years ago. She crosses her arms once again as though those arms were shields that could protect her from him. Sarcasm drips from her, a short lived chortle escaped her. "No shit Sherlock.." She was alive, no thanks to him. It was the damn truth. Every single time she got herself out of a mess it was her own doing. Hell half the time, she was the one who caused the chaos. This midnight haired woman had a nose for trouble, some things would just never change. Yet, she was survivor far before she even met him.

Curious, she lets the question falls from her lips. She smiles, a cold quirk of her lips. "So was it worth it? Did you get everything you wanted?" Jaded eyes peer up at him, staring him dead into his wicked stormy gaze. He probably enjoyed seeing her this way, unhinged by rage stoked by him. She fell right into his trap. After all she was always flame and he was gasoline, mixing the two together never ended well. But damn did it burn so very bright, and somewhere in its toxic destruction it was beautiful.

Harlequin Ray Westward