Harley still lay sprawled on the bed, her hair a pretty mess all over the pillow. I'd left the bed as early as I could, just so she wouldn't wake up to me next to her. It didn't help that she wouldn't be able to remember last night and would potentially send me into an early grave if she ever realized she'd slept wrapped around me like a koala as if she was afraid I would disappear if she let go.
The edge of my lip curled into a smile at the thought of last night. As much as I secretly enjoyed crazy Harley, drunk Harley was kind of a favorite—the kind of Harley that wasn't afraid to open up and fall apart to me.
She'd willingly did last night, I'd seen a glimpse of what she truly was beneath the false toughness she puts up as a defense mechanism to protect herself and her emotions.