Log: Harry's House, Marta/Harry Who: Marta and Harry What: Reunion, of sorts Where: Harry's Lake House When: After Harry's invitation. Warnings/Rating: Will update if needed. Language to start.
The last time Marta had seen Harry was just a little while before Flash got pulled in by the military and she ended up skipping town. It had been one of their usual meetings - too much skin, too much talking, too much to drink (especially for those under 21). It was a strangely comfortable sort of memory, though, especially mixed in between all the other shit that was going on in her life at the time. Going to see him now, years after the fact, was something she never expected. She hadn't actually expected to see anyone from "home" again, but of course they all had to end up in the same backwash little town. Because life couldn't be normal ever, right?
And yet, she wasn't nervous. And she didn't feel weird about it. Harry was Harry - he was safe and didn't expect too much from her. At least he didn't when they were younger, and she hoped it held true now. Because she still didn't feel like she had a lot to give anyone (other than the obvious, that led to her employment), and low expectations were her closest friends.
She maybe did feel a little strange charging a taxi to him, but she called for it anyway. She wasn't going to walk her ass all the way across town toward the lake. At least not in the middle of winter. Even layering a hoodie and a couple thinner shirts under the jacket he'd sent her for Christmas (and fuck, was it a nice jacket) wasn't enough to stay warm walking all that way. So she gave in and called the taxi, waiting until late afternoon, just as the sun was sinking into evening, for it to pick her up. It almost felt ridiculous to take the taxi for a ride that was over in just a few minutes, and when she realized that the fare was something stupidly small, she just handed over some cash from her pocket and climbed out of the car, watching it pull away. Only then did she turn to see where she'd been dropped.
The house itself made her stop and stare, and she half expected a chorus of rough barking from somewhere she couldn't yet see. For a moment, she half expected Tommy to appear, to pull up in a dark SUV and ask her where she needed to go today. She half expected the front door to open to reveal a man with too-long hair pulled back in a messy bun, a baby in his arms and a pitbull nudging her curious nose past his legs. Luxury and money, to her, meant Seven's world now. Dogs and guns and sleek vehicles - green eyes and soft shirts, expensive cologne and the under current of baby powder. It caught in her throat for a moment as she stood alone in front of the house, and if she was more prone to introspection, she might see that part of her living as roughly as she could lately was to get away from that world. The feelings that still crowded too closely in her chest when she gave them attention.
Trying to shove everything back, she moved quickly, stepping up toward the door on hard-heeled ankle-high boots that boosted her too-short frame an extra few inches, giving length to legs in tight black denim. And maybe she should have looked for a bell, but still trying to focus herself in the present, she simply knocked sharp on the front door.