#hcltzed

@hcltzed called !!!

           “Yes? You are?” 

           ❛  Let’s… go get some lunch. Let this sort itself out—                 completely going to plan. Definitely planned this.  ❜

“I, um… “ Harley tried to find the words in her suddenly blank mind, watching the other woman trace her finger along a scar on her arm. “A little… Incident with my puddin’…”

                 But there must be a point where winter ends, and the guilt of receding into                                  oneself and one’s sweater and one’s cool need to detest in confidence reaches                 a point of diminishing return.                 Erin believes that this point is unbecoming on her: relinquishing thick sweaters                 and exhuming herself from the nine-foot hole in the world she’s carved -- could                 every day be winter?                            “I don’t know -- I’m a sucker for cold.” It’s clear on her lips, but barely above                      audible  frequency. Erin does not need to be heard to be understood. And though                   her hands are often restless, and she is learning to build sentiments from them, she                 is far more at home with the quasi-silence of a voice often at odds with the din.

            natasha romanov

Jennifer’s about to ask what the other woman is doing in Dr. Holtzmann’s private workspace, when she sees that she has an unofficial visitor's pass distributed by Holtzmann herself that reads: Leah Holtzmann.        And her heart just about falls through the floor at the sight of it.                   “Oh God. There’s more of you?”