Love is a Joke
Harley Quinn x The Joker
HarleyHahaQuinn
She closed the bathroom door behind her. No one was there; John had gone out for a night in the city. This was the time Harleen Quinzel lived for. While no one was home, she was free to show just how troubled she really was.
On the surface, Harleen was beautiful. Her platinum blonde hair and startling blue eyes complimented her perfect body shape. The thing about most beautiful people though-they're ugly on the inside.
Ms. Quinzel, one of the most recognized and capable psychologists at Arkham Asylum, was a cutter. Not because of depression or a troubled childhood, but honestly just because she loved the feeling of blood rushing down her pale skin. She liked to indulge herself in fantasies of pain and chaos. Now that her boyfriend was gone, she was free to slip into her guilty pleasure.
She placed a razor on the bathroom sink, the blade gleaming with its vicious sparkle. She then laid a bandage along side it and set some alcohol beside that. A grin of anticipation planted itself on her beautiful, dark lips as she picked up the sharp metal. She then began her artistry.
Harleen placed the blade first on her left wrist; she cut into the scarred skin that was already there-narrowly and expertly missing the veins beneath her skin. As she was about to begin on her almost gruesome thighs-those scars were long and embedded- her cell phone rang.
Damn it. She saw Arkham on the ID, "Hello, this is . How-"
She was interrupted, "He's here."
"Who? My new patient?"
"The Joker."
Harleen dropped the razor, badaged her cuts, and ran for the door after grabbing her car keys.
Ms. Quinzel sped down the streets of Gotham, her heart pounding. The only reason she would be notified about this sinister individual's arrival would be if she were going to be assigned as his doctor. Oh, joy.
**Much, much more to type from my notebook. Hope you wait for it.**
(:
Xox0,
Harley
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