It had been the static electricity of his hand on her back that compelled her, and the buzz of being pulled flush against the chest of the town's worst villian.
She'd thrilled over his hypnotically low voice and the way he deliberately slurred her name as if it were something obscure yet almost precious.
Harleen felt as if she thrilled under his presence, became something more than a superhero wannabe; she couldn't help what she was born into, but she could help the acidic taste of desire, could help meeting up with him, and the daydreams of hers.
She just longed to melt into the goo of his red lips and become something other than the 'perfect girl' that her parents had raised her to be.
Harleen was tired of the perfect grades and the way that she had to handle situations; she was tired of the allies, her friends, that she'd made.
This woman had not started out this tired; she'd eagerly pursued a degree in psychology, longed to spend her life helping others anyway that she can, yet she'd found herself losing the chance to properly chase those dreams.
Her parents had sat her down and told her that she had bigger responsibilities than simply being some mediocre clown of a psychiatrist; they'd told her carefully that she had a hero in her blood and that their profession would become hers, that she'd help more lives this way.
She'd hated the pressure though at first, she'd accepted it.
Harleen had quit her studies at college and did what they'd told her to until she'd met him; it felt surreal to stand across from the worst villian she'd ever heard of and see the danger glint his eyes dark and yet darker.
She'd felt that spark even when she fumbled; she did not capture him that day though she'd had more than any of the chances her parents had, and yet there she stood, fumbling over every lesson, and listening to every small utterance from his mouth as if it held great power over her.
The Joker made the blood tremble in her veins, and with just a word, captured all of her attention. Harleen Quintell became something other than the superhero that her parents had raised her to be; she became someone pretending to wear a mask to save the day, someone that all she wanted was the Joker to fill her veins up with the acid of his voice, with the temptation of his touch, and the poison that she was sure a kiss from him would be.
Harleen couldn't help how lost she'd began to feel when she was just near him, how her pressure melted away in his presence, as if the villain that she was supposed to catch became something completely different to her. The Joker made her skin buzz and made her mind buzz as if filled to the brim with his crazy electricity, and all that she began to want was this, this moment with him, melting into a kiss and becoming a mess of what a superhero never should be.
Harleen would trade any day being a superhero for a chance to be 'Harley,' to be a villain, and know the taste of a poisonous kiss, to know exactly what it felt like to be the Joker's Queen, and yet she wasn't sure how much more he'd have to pull before she became just that. She'd never wanted this life, and yet the temptation, the promise, that the Joker offered her made her so eager for the chance that he so readily brought into her world.
What if she said yes? Nothing would ever be the same, but looking into his eyes and feeling that buzz of temptation, the chance to steal a kiss, she found that 'yes' was her favorite answer.