Eva spent the rest of the evening making herself something to eat, all while adding here and there details to Joker's tattoos. At the moment, she was doing her best to purge her mind of what Joker had done to her landlord. She had to keep reminding herself that Joker had originally planned to kill Mr. Harris, Eva had succeeded in keeping the greasy bastard among the living. Smirking, Eva eyed the empty bottle of $200 red wine as she tossed away some broken egg shells, if she still had the bottle she would have toasted the occasion. Joker was in control about 99.0% of the time, the rest was where Eva had control. She could convince him, and get him to see things her way as long as she played by his rules.
It took about an hour for Eva to finish making dinner, which consisted of roast chicken, parmesan butter potatoes, and package of steamed veggies. She ate her meal in front of the TV, which was still set on the channel that Joker had picked last night. MTV still played its old shows? A lazy grimace tugged at the corners of her lips and Eva settled in for reruns of Daria. She didn't feel like watching the news and was too lazy to grab the remote from the TV stand. So on MTV the TV stayed, and Eva ate while chuckling at the incredibly dry and nihilistic humor.
The sun finally set as Eva took her last bite of dinner. Quirking an eyebrow, she turned and looked in the direction of the now fixed door. She had plans for it, but she wasn't just what. Then, it came to her. Setting down her now empty plate, Eva went into her bedroom and shed her clothes. After rummaging around in her closet, she pulled out a pair of paint splattered sweats and a t-shirt that matched in its paint stains. Before Eva had opened up her tattoo shop, before she dropped out of school, she had been a fine arts major with a minor in English Lit. Long before she picked up the tattoo machines, her medium was something along the lines of graffiti. Reaching further back into the closet, she pulled out a laundry basket with several usable spray cans. After she grabbed the surgical mask that came with her first aid kit (which had been left open in the bathroom), Eva made for the door.
She spent about 2 hours outside, spray painting her door. The fumes from the paint were starting to swirl as they clogged her senses. As she added on the finishing touches, Eva had come to realize that she had been giggling for 10 minutes straight. Finally, she took a step back and admired her work. Eva had managed to spray the majority of the door solid black. Eva was a bit rusty in detailing with spray paint but she felt she got the point across. In the end, her door depicted one of Batman's calling card baterangs, it was lodged in the back of some unfortunate's head. The some unfortunate had slicked back chemical green hair, there was blood spirting out of the head, and the red of paint melded into the door's original burgundy color. As an after-thought, Eva knelt down and sprayed a quote in acid green, "You would make a lovely corpse."
Sitting back on her haunches, Eva marveled at her work "Not bad…"
Pulling off the surgical mask and the paint smeared latex gloves, Eva threw them in with her stash of paint cans. Dragging that inside, she peeled off her sweats and t-shirt and walked her apartment in a simple black bra and black boy shorts. Despite her gloves, paint still covered her arms and had tangled into the delicate strands of fuzz. It wasn't long until Eva found herself in the shower, washing away the excess of black, white, green, and red. It swirled like tie dye as went down the drain.
Eva's hands began to stray to the stiches on her thigh, the J was far more prominent. Now that the swelling had gone down and it was aligned with black plastic surgical thread. It stung a bit, nothing a few pain killers couldn't handle. The euphoric high of painting her door with something so disrespectful and threatening started to die down. Her fingers began to outline the chrysanthemum tattoo as she felt her insides go cold and shrivel like the coals in a fire pit. Pushing back her hair, Eva found herself laughing. Looking back at her estimations, having 9% of the control in this so called relationship with narcissistic wasn't much. She'd pay for that idle threat about Joker being a corpse, then again he might find the whole thing hilarious, who the fuck knew with him? Eva kept laughing, her throat seizing as tears of frustration mingled with the water. She had lost complete control of her life, every action she took was under his scrutiny, whether he was there or not to witness it. It was like he was slowly turning into some sick voice of reason.