Harley stood and took the plates out into the kitchen. He had barely touched his food; he had had his face down, writing notes. She sighed, and chucked the plates into the washing up. The suds began creeping up the stale food. She paused and looked around the apartment.
It was little and maybe a tad shabby but this was so they wouldn't raise attention to themselves. They had killed the previous tenants but hey, in this part of town, no one would care.
But Harley kind of liked it, they were near Amusement Mile, home – a second home to Mistah J, the first being Ace Chemicals.
Harley was snapped out of her daydream by the sudden rush of hot water onto her hands and forearms, as a very pale hand turned the knob, switching off the tap. It squeaked but she flinched at the stray droplets.
He was behind her, he leaned forward and his lips touched her jaw, she released an unsteady breath and she felt a smile emerge. She closed her eyes as his mouth drew north, up to behind her ear and back down south, to her neck. His hands wandered to her hips and she felt her shoulders drop as they relaxed. She heard him hum in approval.
He then stopped and moved around her. Harley automatically stepped back, "Mistah J?" He smiled in reply and pushed her backward slightly so her back was against the counter, she looked around wildly at it. His finger skimmed along her jaw to bring her attention back to him.
It was then he placed his lips to hers. She cautiously began to wrap her arms around his neck, he smiled and she relaxed. He hummed again and with his hands still on her hips, he lifted her up onto the counter. Their lips parted – she whimpered and he chuckled and so his lips quickly returned. She made a pleased little sound.
His smile turned into a grin and he pressed his lips firmer against hers. He swiftly parted her lips and his tongue entered her mouth. He fought for dominance which she hastily gave him.
His lips moved away and back to her jaw, and then to her neck again. Harley threw her head back and moaned; her hands trailed up into his hair and tugged, he replied by biting her neck, teasingly. She whimpered.
She fell into a haze where her vision blurred and where her mind turned into an incoherent mess. She was snapped out of it when his lips left her skin. She kept her eyes closed and tried to control her breathing – her chest was heaving, she was hot all over. She was content.
She opened her eyes when he began to pull up the corner of her top, to reveal her hip. Her momentary bliss was shattered as she felt the cool metal touch her hip. She flinched. A knife.
He teased the tip of the blade into her flesh, not enough to pierce the skin but it was frightening. She bit her lip to fight a sob but a squeak escaped.
"Shhh…" He hushed her. He pushed the knife in deeper, breaking the skin, making her bleed. She cried out, tears began to trickle down her face. But now she realised what he was doing. Carving a J into her hip.
A sign – a mark, to show that she was his; a possession that belonged to the Joker.
He dropped the blade onto the counter next to her; he walked out of the kitchen. He didn't even look at her. She hopped off the counter and followed him. "Puddin'?" She winced and cursed at the pain.
"Hm?" It seemed he wasn't paying attention. He caught sight of the mark that had been left. "Oh… Better clean that up – we don't want that blood staining your skirt, now do we?" He pouted. Then his expression changed entirely. Impassive.
"Now go away; I have work to do."
Her lips parted to speak but she closed them again because there was nothing she could say to defend herself. She returned to the washing up. The water was now cold. She began to clean the plates.
With everything done, her eyes wandered to the knife. Her hands were shaking when she picked it up, she wasn't sure if it was from the cold. She placed it in the dissolved soap suds and began to clean her blood off it. The water embraced the blood red tinge.