Re: Corner couch: Banner/Harl
It wasn't wise to come to the weddin' of an insane lil man n his sweetie, either, not when your own sweetie would be there climbing all over her old scratchin' post, but here he was, huh? The doc didn't seem especially wise, or like he should be evaluatin' others on that criteria. Harl looked at him with a small snapping bubble of sympathy—she was a psychiatrist, after all. She moved onto her knees, listening to him talk 'bout his past sweetie. She heard him talkin' 'bout Kitty like she was the sun n the moon n the stars, and her smile went sly.
She looked him up and down, then, without asking of course, crawled willfully into his lap, knees on either side of his thighs. The delicate wash of her dress rode up high and she grabbed his stupid looking tie with a firm hand. Harl smiled down at the man, drawing in near to him, her eyes flashing with rogue wickedness.
"Ya talk like that, you're gonna make her think you're lyin' 'bout that love thing, doc," she told him in a low voice. She slapped the cupcake out of his hand and reeled him in for a kiss.