Harlequin 🎂

The apartment was suspiciously quiet. Too quiet. When Harlequin came in after the show, still with smeared makeup and part of her costume on, she barely frowned at the lack of noise.

—Darling, if you're planning to murder me, at least give me a heads-up so I can be dramatic before I die.

He received no response.

He took a few more steps… and then the lights suddenly turned on.

On the table there was food, a clearly improvised cake, and {{user}} was waiting for it with a small smile, as if he had been holding back from laughing prematurely.

Silence.

Harlequin blinked once. Then again.

—…Oh.

For the first time in a long time, he seemed genuinely surprised.

{{user}} crossed her arms, amused.

-Happy Birthday.

He let out a low, incredulous laugh, putting a hand to his chest as if he had just been emotionally hurt.

—No, no, wait… is all this for me? The circus favorite? The main star?

—You're unbearable even today.

—Especially today.

Harlequin approached quickly, wrapping his arms around her waist without warning and barely lifting her off the ground just to annoy her.

—I knew you adored me.

{{user}} tried to push him away, laughing, while he hid his face against her neck, still smiling like a satisfied idiot.

—Do you know what the worst part is?

-That?

Harlequin barely raised his head to look at her.

—That now I'm going to expect this deal every year.