A week and a half to the day had passed since I had helped The Joker escape Arkham, again. I'd helped him a few times already, only for him to be brought back a week or two later. While I desperately longed to see is face, I hated having to be behind Arkham's closed doors to do so. This time was different. They knew. They were looking for me too. My small, one bedroom loft was lonely, and too quiet. It left me to my own thoughts and vices, though only one came to mind. I wanted /him/. I wanted to see his pale alabaster face, to kiss his crimson lips, and run my fingers through his soft lime green hair.
Even the torture he submitted me to didn't curb my feelings, if anything the electroshock made me want him more. I was fully prepared to die at his hand, at least I would've died in his arms. Instead he let me go once we were clear of Arkham. Nothing felt the same anymore. I was hyper sensitive to everything, like my senses had been brought to life for the first time. I was simply going through the day to day motions, bored out of my mind with nothing to fill the void. The voices killed the silences, especially today. They were much more alert, hyper active even. Chattering away so quickly I could barely keep up. Perhaps the storm had them in an uproar?
The rain had been coming down for hours already, and showed no signs of letting up. It pounded against my windows loudly, coating the glass in a constant stream of liquid, that made it hard to see out at all. Wrapping slender arms around a bare lithe frame, I shiver, thunder cracking violently loud as if on queue. Bright lightening spidered across the black starless sky, lighting up my dim living room. Light cerulean eyes widened, an audible gasp rising from dry, parted lips. I stumble backward, shaking my head as I peer at the same spot on my window once again, waiting for the next flash of lightening.
"I… I swear I saw him. He was here…" I my voice laced with hope, and clouded with frustration, I shook my head, damp, golden tendrils tumbling over my shoulder as the fall from the loose bun on top of my head. He was here. I was sure if it. I saw his reflection behind me plain as day, but as I spun around on the balls of bare feet, I saw nothing. Wrapping my arms around myself once more, I let my nails dig lightly into my flesh, hoping to jar some kind of sensation, but I felt nothing except numbness. Growling, frustrated not only with myself, but with the situation, the world, and everyone in it, except /him/. Where is he? Frowning, I turn away from the window, scowling at myself in the mirror on the far wall.
Thunder rumbled through the sky, again, louder this time, sharp lightening following right behind. It was brighter this time, and again I was sure I saw him! Though not a reflection this time. He stood in the far corner of my living room, hidden in the shadows of three large and in charge cherry wood bookshelves. Blinking, I took a tentative step forward, convinced my heart and mind were playing tricks on me. Wooden floorboards creaked as he stepped out from the shadows. An audible gasp left my lips, a petite hand cover my mouth for a few moments, before I remember I'm still completely naked from my bath over an hour ago. Suddenly feeling vulnerable and exposed, limbs move to cover myself, his soft chuckle unnerving as he moves closer.
"I… Mistah J… what are you doing here?" Why did I even ask? Why did I care? This is what I wanted. Him, here. I got exactly what I asked for. My gaze remained fixed on him, taking him in as I leaned forward snatching the fleece throw off the couch to wrap it around myself. He was just as perfect as I remembered. I'd memorized every detail of his face from our sessions, and from the night he freed me from myself. Before taking the voltage, I memorized every line, every perfect imperfection, every inked detail and embedded it into my brain, and now, finally he's standing in front of me.
"I thought it was time I paid you a visit, doc… Oh… ha-ha-haha. I guess that's not really your area of expertise anymore." He mused, more to himself than me, I think. His limbs moved animatedly as he spoke, prowling around me like a lion about to pounce on their prey. I turned with him, never taking my eyes off him as he straightened, clapping his hands together in front of me. "Get dressed Harley… I want to show you something, and this…" He reached out a pale tattooed hand, letting his fingers skate down the length of my arm. Goosebumps pricked at the surface of my skin, my breath hitching at the slightest touch. "This just simply won't do." His tone huskier than before, pale eyes darkened by some inward desire. Without hesitation, I padded into my bedroom, yanking on the first thing I found in my closet.
Zipping black boots at the ankle, I ran my fingers through my unbrushed waves in an attempt to tame them a bit more. Pushing black rimmed glasses up my nose, I took a deep breath before returning to the living room. The sound of my heels against the wooden floor alerted to my presence, and he turned, red lips curving into a menacing silver grin, though his expression told another story. He seemed to be having some kind of internal battle with himself as he regarded me. "Come, Harley dear…" He kept calling me Harley, not Harleen, though I didn't mind. I liked the way it rolled off his tongue. Draping a toned arm around my shoulders, he led me towards the door, turning me to look in at my apartment from the door way. "Say goodbye to all of this. You won't be back after tonight." I gaped up at him through thick lashes, eyes wide with shock.
"I won't be back? Ever? Why? Are ya gonna kill me now Mistah J?" My thick Brooklyn accent caressed his pet name from me perfectly.
He rolled his jaw, almost as if to keep himself in line. "No, you won't be back. You're coming with me now..." His words hung in the air, and his arm tightened around me, making it impossible for me to attempt to run, not that I wanted to. Why would I? "Come now, Harley it's time for your awakening…"
Without another word he pulled the door closed on what was once my life, and escorted me out of the building to what I was sure was either my death, or a whole new future.