Chapter Text
It really shouldn’t come as a surprise that an institution built of brick and stone had a tendency to get mighty chilly at night.
Arkham didn’t care to spare the extra cent on heating for inmates as they found funds were better spent elsewhere, therefore whenever the sun fell below the sky, cells presented themselves to practically be ice blocks.
“Ivyyyyy,” Harley’s voice echoed off the stone walls of the two's shared cell. “I’m cold,” she whined.
Ivy glanced over to the clown curled against her shoulder where they sat on their cot, she sighed, “I know baby, but we’re only allowed so many blankets, you know that” she tried to assure, teasing her fingers through the blonde's soft hair.
Harley whimpered, unsatisfied with that answer. She gazed up at the botanist with a pouty lip and wide blue eyes that begged for attention. Ivy cocked her brow, before understanding. “Harls, are you trying to imply that you want to—”
The clown lit up, nodding excitedly, “Yes!” she answered before the redhead could finish the question.
Ivy sighed again, a faint smile tugging at her lips, “alright,” chuckled, “go ahead” she leaned back moving her arms away from her body.
Harley squealed, taking the hem of a Ivy’s shirt and pulling it over her own head. Ivy, being quite tall as she was, was usually given shirts a few sizes too large by guards who had no idea how women’s clothing sizes worked; and Harley took absolute advantage of this.
Perhaps it was a combination of the large size and Harley herself already being pretty petite which allowed for the clown to easily fit into the top alongside Ivy, poking her head out of the neck as she curled up against the woman’s bare chest with glee. Her cheek nuzzled against the redhead’s as she practically purred with contentment.
Ivy had no complaints; the blonde was like a living furnace, radiating with heat that did well to keep the metahuman herself pretty warm in the chilly room. The woman doubted a girl so physically hot could get cold so easily.
She had found fairly early into their relationship that Harley in fact loved to snuggle and loved to look for any excuse to do so. Whether the blonde was actually freezing to death or just somewhat chilly, the redhead didn’t really care to determine.
She let her arms curl around the clown’s form nestled within her own shirt. “Better?” Ivy cooed against her ear.
Harley hummed, murmuring comfortably against her collarbone, burying her face in the crux of Ivy’s neck. “Better~”