The dingy mirror was smeared with finger prints and a film of dust. The dim light that swung overhead made Harley's reflection distorted. It reflected just how she felt. Confused. The white grease paint that was thrown over her face covered the majority of the bruise, only a green tinge could be seen. He had struck her when she had wanted his attention. Was she too clingy? Was she not enough? Was there someone else? The thoughts whirled around in her head, chasing each other, spinning and spinning and spinning... No. There couldn't be anyone else. Who else would he love? He only loved himself and her. She believed in his love as much as she believed in air. Although, the bruise was still there. Reminding her, doubting her. She chewed her lip.
The loud knock on the door made her jump, biting down into the soft flesh, the taste of blood filled her mouth. "Come on Harley!" He yelled.
She spat the blood into the sink and wiped her mouth and then her eyes. Her stage makeup was more smudged than ever but she didn't care. She was too tired, too exhausted. Throwing open the door, she stalked out and went straight to the cheap beat-up bed. "I thought you'd gotten lost!" He giggled, grinning the same grin. "You're lucky I didn't wet myself." With that, he slammed the bathroom door shut. The only thing Harley wanted was sleep and that was the only thing she couldn't seem to do. She buried herself in the ratty blankets and snuggled into her pillow, but still, sleep wouldn't come. Especially when J came back from the bathroom and had begun pacing and muttering to himself. It drove her nuts. He was always obsessing over something and it was never her.
After about an hour or so, she propped herself up on one elbow and watched him. Her sweet beloved. Thinking of some scheme or another. Harley sighed, she just wished that he would come to bed, be her big spoon to keep her warm. His muttering increased so she knew that that wasn't going to happen anytime soon. She heard a few snippets here and there like, 'shark', 'annoying', 'Batman'. His muttering were mostly about Batman. She was surprised that he hadn't decided to take him on a date yet. She pouted, when was the last time he had taken her out anywhere? Her cheek suddenly ached and she cradled it. His eyes met hers and he looked confused, like he had forgotten she was there. Her heart ached then, too. "What are you doing?" He snapped, glaring at her.
"I was just wondering when you're coming to bed, puddin'" She stammered out.
"When I feel like it. Go back to sleep." He turned away from her.
"Please baby, I'm all cold, all alone."
Before she knew it, he was standing in front of her. "You're meant to listen to me." He grabbed her hair, which wasn't tied up in its usual pigtails. "I'm in charge here."
She squealed and nodded, his grip on her hair strong and pulling at her scalp. "Now, you're going to be a good little girl or I'm going to throw you out." She nodded again, squeezing her eyes shut. The Joker released his hand and pushed her down. "Sleep." She didn't move, laying perfectly still. "Good girl." He whispered before kissing her on the top of the head and walking off again. She heard him open the door and his footsteps fading away, yet she still didn't dare move.
'This isn't love' she thought bitterly, tears sliding down her face. 'He doesn't know what love is.'