It had been a week since he had entered Arkham Asylum. He definitely was a character, handsome too. His name; Jerome Valeska. She had been watching him since he had entered the dayroom, it was much more entertaining than daytime TV. It had become a pastime for her, watching him as he did his rounds, moving from table to table, striking up conversations with people she knew wouldn't respond. When he first came, he tried getting in with the it crowds as she called it, Barbara Kean, and her posse of criminals. She had made it vey clear to Barbara that she was not interested in joining them. Jerome had tried his best however, sometimes they would let him sit with them, other times they wouldn't. She could see the look in his eyes when they rejected him, dangerous.
She enjoyed watching him, he amused her, she couldn't deny he was handsome, and her feelings had grown quickly for the red-haired man. Her diagnosis, borderline personality disorder. Apparently, it led to obsessive relationships and behaviours. She liked to believe they were wrong, but the growing feelings she had for him, even though they had yet to speak spoke truth to her.
She hoped today would be the day, the day he actually approached her, spoke to her. He nearly had a couple of days ago, but Barbara had distracted his attention. Another reason why she disliked the woman, always had to be the centre of attention, always had to be the girl all guys liked. Alas, it was not meant to be, apparently today he was to sit with the it crowds again, she noticed the smug look Barbara threw her way when he took his seat next to her.
She felt her stomach drop, fighting back her disappointment once again. Barbara was very observant, she had observed her watching him, calling her out on it once they got back to their cells. They were neighbours frustratingly. She continued to watch the back of his head, blocking out Barbara's obnoxious laughter and filling her ears with only Jerome's, his manic laughter always brought a smile to her face. It was the only time she allowed herself to smile, this time however, she locked eyes with him as she did so.
Her internal panic bubbled to the surface as their eye contact was broken. To her it felt like an eternity, but she focused back on the people below her window, trying to distract herself, pushing back the thoughts of whether or not he was still looking. What if he didn't like her smile? What if he found her creepy, what if he was merely looking through her instead of at her? Through the window?
She could feel her cheeks flush, her heart hammering in her chest as she turned her head slowly back to face him. He wasn't looking at her anymore, carrying on with his conversation, as if their look was nothing, perhaps it was, the disappointment grew once more.