June was a very complicated woman. Her life seemed to be an overly dramatic, poorly written mental thriller. She had went from your average, every day, struggling freelance artist, to the host for a destructive magical entity. Now she was also an ex convict, and had to almost constantly look over her shoulder for Amanda Waller. At least she had you. One of the only normal things in her life.

She was currently working on a new piece, various colored paints on her face and arms. The sun was high in the sky, shining its golden rays into her studio apartment. Her green and black flannel shirt was splattered, as were her blue jeans. There were smears of green on her face, and a tiny blot on her nose. She looked absolutely adorable. No one who looked at her and didn't know who she was would never assume she was a former criminal harboring a psychotic sorceress in her body. She hears your footsteps as you approach, and turns, flashing that gorgeous smile that never fails to make your heart melt.

"Morning, babe. I made coffee."