It’s been about a month, maybe a month and a half, since Harley has met the Winchesters. It would be a lie for her to say she never thinks of them -- of course she does. How can you not think of someone who appears in your life, and flips it upside down with the claim, and proof, of something you never believed in?
She closes the diner every Friday, this Friday is no different. it’s 2am and she’s sat at the table, drinking some whiskey ( which is okay, as she plans on sleeping in her car tonight. her roommate even told her she ‘shouldn’t come home tonight’ because she’s expecting ‘guests’. harley didn’t have it in her to argue ) while she struggles to read the last two paragraphs of her assignment, when she hears the chime of the door opening.
She remembers calling out, ❝ We’re closed! ❞ Only to see Sam Winchester walk through the door. She remembers talking after that, after she gives him a beer, and then remembers him mentioning they’ll be leaving in the mornin’ for New Mexico. So she kisses him. It’s not somethin’ she usually does, but she knows she’ll have regret if she doesn’t do it now.
There are only a few glimpses after that Harley remembers. She remembers more kissing -- and then her, well, cleaning up a little ( she doesn’t remember if sam laughs at her for this or not; she wants to think he does ), and then ending up in the car. After that, she remembers ending up outside his motel, and, well, not making it inside.
It’s the morning now. She hears a door slam shut, and feels Sam sit up beside her. Oh, crap.
She sits up, slowly, glad she pulled on Sams shirt around 6am. She gives off a sheepish smile to Dean, and slightly licks her lips. She glances between the two brothers, before she speaks up, ❝ ... Uh, who wants breakfast? ❞
