Chapter 10: Eat

My English teacher, Mrs Addams, had her hair up in a tight bun today, her mousy brown hair sticking out from every curve and clip. I liked it when she had her hair up. It meant she was in a good mood, most likely. Once, after she was engaged, she didn't stop wearing it up for weeks. It looked shiny up. Down, it looked flat and damp, greasy and it made her look old. But instantly, with the snap of a bobble, she turned from 46 to 27.

"Alright, so what does the colour and the lighting the author uses say about the character?" She asked, a thin smile on her face.

I sat by the window, and I enjoyed looking out very much. Opposite, on the windowsill of another class, two white doves had made their nest there. The teachers warned us not to touch it. I never did, but I threw seeds and bread crusts out of the window before when nobody was around. The nest had been there ever since I started college, and I had never seen a single egg being laid or hatched. Not one. Just the two pure doves, sat merrily, making their home.

I continued drawing stars all down my wrist. The bruises had definitely vanished, and my pale skin was no longer purple, or black, or blue. The clusters of blue stars at the top of my wrist sank down my arm until I only dotted one or two towards my elbow. The sleeves of my black and red checked shirt were rolled up just above my elbow, giving me room to draw.

I sighed contently with the results and bit the end of the pen tenderly between my teeth. Gazing wondrously out the window, I spied some rain drops dripping down the window softly. Tap. Tap. Tap. I looked around the quiet class, wondering if anybody else was entranced by Mother Nature's music. But no, all twelve people who'd chosen English as their subject choice here looked dead eyed at the board, mouths wide open like suffocated goldfish. Sometimes I felt like the only one who made an effort; not specifically to work, but hey, at least I looked nice. Everybody else were wearing tracksuits or hoodies, while my artistic flair shone out through my tight black jeans and my Nirvana tank tops. Then again, I couldn't blame them. I felt as sorry for them as I did for myself, and that didn't mix well with the stress and the paranoia I was enduring already. I shouldn't care about them, I should care about me.

Seeing that nobody here was interested in anything around them but the air in which they could breathe, I internally smiled and continued to peer out of the glass. Across the road, by the car park, I spotted somebody, a lone strange looking man, tall, wearing a dark trench coat and holding a black umbrella. His back was faced towards where I was looking, so I couldn't catch a glimpse of his face. He was most likely normal, yet his gait and how artistically he stood made me want to draw down ideas or something, the itching feeling that the scenario he was in gave me a million ideas. He could be going out for a walk. He could've just broken up with his partner. He could've been waiting for his partner. Or heck, maybe he just liked the rain.

"Stella?" A faded voice sank me back into reality, as though I'd just been pulled to safety from drowning. My eyebrows raised and I looked towards who was calling me- the teacher- neck craned like a curious meerkat. "Colour representation? Lighting? Any ideas?" She asked, with a pleading look. "Please?" She knew that nobody else in the class would give her suggestions.

I stuttered in my throat. I glanced back at the excerpt sheet in front of me, on the desk and answered. "Uh... it all represents danger and there's like... a grim theme."

"How?"

"The colour red represents danger, blood or death, meaning that, um, the character wearing red could potentially be a grim figure..."

Those lips, that smile, those two... long... scars...

"A-and the lighting is dark. The character casts a shadow when they walk into the room, like they're, um... darkening the mood..."

Like his eyes, round, black pits of endless endings... and darkness...

The teacher nodded. "And the other character? Why does she wear white?"

"Uh," I cleared my throat. "She's... young. They imply she's a virgin. She's the only symbol of innocence in the story, innocent and... pure. White is a pure colour."

Such a pure colour for the impure face of a bastard.

Mrs Addams smiled proudly and clapped her hands together once. "Excellent. Perfect, Stella."

I just smiled.

"This type of answer is how you get your grades..." Her voice fazed out once more as I checked my phone for the time. It was nearly one o' clock, and thankfully today was my last lesson so I could just go home.

And I had two messages from an unknown number.

Received at: 12:47pm
learning's useless

Received at: 12:48pm
come have a little fun with me
we could burn the whole city together
...or we could just have lunch at 1?

I squinted my eyes in confusion. How absurd. I had a strong feeling I knew who it was, and the obsession with burning the city just gave it away. I swallowed uneasily and glanced around the room, and then out the window to the man in the distance. He was gone. Oh well.

I rolled my eyes at the messages again- the Joker was crazy. Still, I couldn't resist the temptation to add him in my phonebook, and as for the name I just put down 'J'. I originally wanted to write 'Party Clown' because that's what he looked like; a cheap, entertainment character for five year olds on their birthdays- in all due respect. But the idea was way too childish and I wasn't that cruel.

12:59... 1:00!

The bell rang and everybody was quick to grab their stuff and leave, the light and colour returning to their faces again. I was the last out of the class, and Mrs Addams stopped me.

"Stella?"

Shuffling my backpack uncomfortably on my shoulders, I clutched my art portfolio tightly in my palms by the handle of the folder. I stood by the door and turned, wondering why she'd called me out.

"That... annotation, it was brilliant. Don't you do creative writing?" She asked, her skinny form sickly leaning above me.

I shook my head. "I'm more into art. I can't seem to, um, find the words to say to express feelings. That's why I don't write. I do art instead, it's the same sort of therapeutic effect."

She nodded. "Well, see, there's this creative writing course on offer in our English department... you're more than welcome to join, you know."

Of course not. I obviously wanted to say no, but being so blunt would be like running over a puppy- the puppy representing her hopes, probably. "Um... I'll think about it," I smiled. "I mean, with my art and my psych work..." And my murderous clown stalker... "...I've got quite a lot on my plate." I apologetically smiled.

She shook it off with a generous giggle. "Well, it's okay. I was just offering and you don't have to join. You could try it out if you want, but you're more than welcome to quit when you think you've had enough."

No.

"Okay." I beamed.

"Okay, good," She simply popped. "That's it. Well done today. Be safe going home, now."

Don't worry, I've got a psychopath watching my back closely enough.

"Okay. Thank you Mrs Addams." I bade farewell as I exited the block, walking out to the parking lot and the exit grounds. It was still raining and I held my portfolio above my head the entire time in a feeble attempt to keep dry.

"Christ..." I muttered under my breath. "Why can't I just take a driving test and get a car? So much less hassle..." I complained to myself, the rain dripping down my arms and neck, and also eventually smearing my blue inked stars down my wrists. I sighed heavily, grumpily.

Suddenly, it seemed as though the rain had stopped above me, which was peculiar since I still saw it pouring down around me. I furrowed my brows in confusion and set down my portfolio from above my head, feeling nothing but... dryness.

I heard a throat clearing coming from beside me.

I jumped, clutching onto my chest in distraught. I stopped walking, and so did the person beside me. I saw the man from the car park, black coat, tall, strange gait... and the bandana around his mouth. I took a moment to scoff and roll my eyes, putting the pieces of the not-so-hard puzzle together. It was the Joker. But Joker's eyebrows raised, almost sadly or confused, and I glanced up to see him holding the black umbrella above my head whilst he let himself get drenched by the Spring rain.

"Oh," I said quietly, looking up at the makeup-less clown before (or rather, above) me. "Thanks." I forced a crooked smile. I was in somewhat of a good mood after being praised by my English teacher, and I wouldn't ruin it now by my cold attitude towards him. After all, asshole or not, he hadn't said a word or looked at me in the wrong way yet, so I had no reason whatsoever to be rude or snappy.

By the way his bandana stretched, I figured he smiled. "It's, uh, okay. I mean... the rain's freezing, but-ah, anything to help a lady in need," He teased, lightly tapping my arm. Then he awkwardly cleared his throat. "Uh, also-uh, your hair looks... your hair looks nice." He gestured with his free hand, his thought of a compliment struggling to slip out. I delicately reached up and adjusted the loose bun tying my hair.

"Oh, um, thank you." I eased out a little smile, unsure of whether his compliment was sarcastic or not. After all, the last person I'd ever expect to give me compliments was the Joker himself.

We stood in the rain- or rather, he did, I was sheltered under the umbrella- and we awkwardly stared at each other.

"You ate today?" He asked.

I shook my head, then looked away, clutching my empty stomach self consciously. "I'm not hungry..."

"Tsk," He tutted, rolling his eyes. "Nonsense. My, uh, my pet's gotta eat. You think I'm gonna let you starve out that easily? Please."

"It's... the stress is... I can't-" Then I blinked. "Wait, did you just call me your pet?"

"Let's go get lunch." He changed the subject and grinned, pushing my back (pack) quite forcefully to get me to walk.

"Wait-!"

"Don't make me crack your skull against that lamppost, sweets." He clicked his tongue as he lead me on like the 'pet' I apparently was.

Soon enough we were in town and the Joker lead me into some small, peaceful coffee shop. The smell of cocoa and caffeine exhilarated me, making me immediately crave a nice hot mug of herbal tea. My stomach growled quietly but I ignored it, taking my eyes away from the brownies and biscuits on sale behind the glass display cases.

I murmured to Joker, "How much cash you got?"

"None. I don't buy things, remember?" He chuckled, hands carelessly in his pocket.

I groaned internally, hating him silently. I'd met many pricks in my life, but that douche bag was the fucking cactus. The bane of my existence. I rummaged around my jean pockets for some money and surely enough I found a couple of bucks.

"What do you want?" I asked, already planning herbal tea on my menu.

"A, uh... a slice of that chocolate cake," He pointed through the glass. "And two of those cookies, one normal chocolate chips and one white chips. Uh... that syrup cake. And a lollipop." He said, popping the end of his sentence with smooth ticks of his tongue. I secretly widened my eyes at his request- that was a lot of food. Was he going to eat all of that?

"Can I help you?" The barista asked cheerfully, her voice like the tweet of a canary.

"Yeah, uh... I'll have a herbal tea and..." I listed off the long list of sweet snacks, having to repeat it slowly since she hadn't got it the first time. I was so embarrassed. I glared at Joker as she went off to prepare my tea and Joker's snacks. He simply raised his eyebrows and gave me a sly, playful wink in response. I pretended as though I hadn't seen it, but I turned around just in time to feel my cheeks burn hot red with blush. What was his game?

"Here you go, enjoy." The barista smiled, pushing me the plate piled with snacks and my mug of tea. Joker eagerly grabbed the plate and headed towards a booth seating in the back of the coffee shop, sure to rush past quiet murmuring people as quickly as he could to avoid them seeing the bandana hiding his scars. I followed him more slowly and carefully, cautious as not to spill my tea.

I sat down opposite him and so did he, putting his plate down on the table with a little clack. The Joker looked around to see if anybody was near, and when he was assured that there wasn't he pulled the bandana off from around his mouth and groaned in satisfaction, his tongue poking around the insides of his scars. "God, feels great every time." He admitted, carefree, a little grin on his rosy lips.

I took a small sip of my tea but placed it back down, letting it cool off a little. I sighed softly and watched as his tongue poked around the insides of his scars. "I love cafés like these." I peacefully mumbled, looking at the half brick-half panelled walls, the light wooden flooring, the shabby chic style of it all. Plants held in rusty watering cans, chairs with chips and nicks in the legs- it was my type of place.

Joker raised his brows, barely interested. "Oh yeah?"

I nodded and dipped my head, hiding a smile. "Yeah. Couldn't have chosen a better place," I said, unsure of whether he heard me or not. "Do you get out much?" I asked.

Joker shook his head and pursed his lips. "No, uh, I don't. Too busy being-ah, me." He grinned.

I ignored his remark and brought my mug to my lips, but as soon as I touched the tea he slid the full plate of snacks over in front of me. I set my mug down and shot him a suspicious and confused glare, whilst all he did was watch expectantly.

"What?" I asked.

"Eat up, princess." He urged me on, pushing the plate a little closer.

My stomach gurgled. Oh, how it looked so delicious. The golden cookies, the spongy chocolate cake lathered in rich caramel sauce, the syrup cake glistening in the soft, yellowish light. I wanted to eat it.

I pushed the plate back away. I couldn't.

"I'm not hungry."

He sighed and unwrapped his lollipop, sticking it in his mouth. He gave me a gentle yet threatening glare, not taking my 'no' for an answer.

"Stella. I, uh, I said eat."

"And I said I'm not hungry." I snapped back, drinking more of my tea.

Joker's eyes squinted as he searched my eyes for something I couldn't provide him with- truth. I couldn't hold eye contact for longer than three seconds as his brown gaze won over mine, but I just looked down at my tea, the leaves in the mug swirling around and creating a surreal image.

Joker scoffed, sighing in realisation. "You're-ah, starving yourself, aren't you?"

My eyes widened momentarily and I bitterly sneered. "No."

"Aw, c'mon, really? And just when I thought you were a, uh, a smarter girl than that," He said in disappointment, resting his elbow on the table. "Shame. Such a waste." He pulled the lollipop out of his mouth with a little puckering noise and I bit my tongue, dying to revel in the sweetness he tasted.

"I am smart," I said, placing my arms on the table, crossed closely to my chest as I pulled myself forward. "And I'm not starving. I'm... dieting." I lied through smiling teeth.

He smirked. "Oh yeah? And what's, uh, that?" He pulled the lollipop out of his mouth. "The strict oxygen diet?" He sarcastically asked, pulling my wrist away from my body and upright on the table. He traced lines with his finger up and down the dripped trail of blue stars up my wrist, humming under his breath. I shivered. He looked up at me. "Personally? I like my girls with a bit of meat on 'em. Only-ah, dogs go for bones," I attempted to pull my wrist away from him, but his grip was strong yet tender, not intending on releasing me any sooner. "I'm not tellin' ya to eat 'cause I care. I'm, uh, tellingyou because I'm not letting you turn into a tired old bag o' bones and letting you-ah... die a useless death," He said, licking his red lollipop teasingly. I rolled my eyes. "I'd rather you die under my, uh, own hands than under my bad care. Y'know what I mean?"

"I don't care, I'm fine." I quietly snarled, my fist curling up in frustration. He exhaled loudly in annoyance, but I knew he wasn't giving up sooner.

He broke off a corner of a cookie and placed it in my palm. "Just one bite and I'll never bug ya to eat again."

I crushed it in my palm and brushed the crumbs off, preferably leaning over to ensure I got it all in his lap.

The piece of cake. "C'mon. I'll-ah, take you to Disney."

I threw the piece of chocolate cake aside and onto the floor. I raised my eyebrow.

He narrowed his eyes and forced the slice of syrup cake in my hand. "A million dollars."

I threw it at him.

He sighed loudly, brushing all the mess I'd aimed at him off.

"Fine," He said, fed up. He stuck the lollipop in his mouth. "Fine."

I smirked to myself and drank more of my herbal tea. I had my ways and I was surprised it worked on him so easily.

I placed my mug down and suddenly he held both of my hands, putting them palms down onto the table. I internally cringed and I wanted nothing to do with him. I was mad, thinking he could just force feed me. What a douche!

He popped the lollipop out of his mouth and with a click of his tongue, he grinned. His scars curled up happily but his eyes teased me.

Resting his arms against the table, he leaned forward slowly, and with one hand, cupped my chin and tilted my head up. "What're you-"

"Shh." He mumbled.

My empty stomach churned and I felt myself turn red. What the hell was he doing?! And in public, too!

Agonisingly slow, he inched closer and closer, my lips parted with heavy sighs and I fluttered my eyes shut, dreading impact, and before I knew it, I felt contact.

Something was in my mouth.

And it wasn't a tongue.

I heard the Joker giggling and I slowly opened my eyes to see him still centimetres away from my face, grinning like a child. I tasted something sweet in my mouth, like strawberries.

He'd forced the lollipop into my mouth.

By now I was still flustered and blushing, and my stomach tossed in panic. The sweetness of the lollipop made me so hungry, as he twirled the stick between his fingers and turned it on my tongue, sugary flavour dripping over every tastebud. He had a strange concentrated look on his face and he licked his lips, controlling the lollipop from the stick on the outside of my pursed lips. I groaned and sucked the lollipop, revelling in the taste that was too good to try and ignore.

The Joker saw that I was pleased and tore it away from my mouth and I whined in protest. He smirked and without dealing with it any other way, he stuck the lollipop right back into his own mouth, my taste probably still on it. My knees felt numb.

He pushed the snack filled plate towards me again. "Eat."

And I did.

SO many innuendos in this chapter. Hope you enjoyed ;')