Texting | Joker

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The bathroom light buzzed as Harley flicked it on- her eyes squinting against the light. She blinked at her reflection.
Harley turned on the sink- the sound of water filling up the silence and echoing off the tile walls. She took off the streaks of eyeliner and paused to look at the bruises on her neck. Harley pulled up her shirt seeing more bruises. She quickly pulled her short back down. A long sigh escaping her lips. She left the bathroom, intending to crawl right back in bed with him.
A noise startled her.
Moving slowly she left the bathroom light on and walked back toward the bed. Harley saw him rolling in the bed. Her heart was heavy..
"Mister J?" Her voice bounced back at her. Joker couldn't hear her, not in this state. She stood just next to the bed, watching with concern.
"Let go of me!" he yelled tangled up in the sheets. His hair stuck to his forehead and cheeks with sweat, the sheets wrapped around his bare chest. He must have felt like he was strapped down to the bed, unable to move, and she imagined that his nightmare was more or less a memory. Harley came closer, reaching out to grab the sheet so that she could loosen them to help him breathe, to help him remember that he was free.
She hand wrapped around the sheet and spoke again, this time her motherly instincts taking over. "Jay. wake up."
In the same moment, his eyes shot open, staring up at the ceiling. His hand wrapped around her arm- gripping tight, too tight. A gasp escaped his mouth as though bursting from the depths of Harley's trench, and his chest heaved. She gasped too, surprised but not in pain, and slowly, he came to and realized what was happening. His hand let her go and he sat up, the sheet falling to his waist. His eyes opened and closed over and over as he caught back up with reality, and Harley moved her arm out of the way, but otherwise sat perfectly still, watching and waiting.
She didn't ask. She doesn't think it's a good idea. If he needed to talk about it, he just wouldn't. That's how self centered he is. And even if he would tell her about his dreams, she'd listen without a word, and that would be the end of it. Maybe that's why he's the man he is now- maybe his nightmares were real once and he's just reliving them.
Joker finally opened his eyes and found Harley's face in the dark. She was watching him too, a sad look in her eyes. Her eyes sparkled with tears, and Harley had already wiped her face dry while he was recovering. His eyes took in all the details of her form to remind himself that, yes, she's here. Yes, it's real. Yes, he's safe. At home. In bed. With Harley.
The blonde tangles of hair falling over her shoulders. The bruises on her throat. The curve of Harley's collar bone, the tops of her breasts, her shoulders, her arms-
"Oh Harl's." His voice cracked- he licked his lips. He buried his palms in his eyes.
Never has Harley thought of seeing Joker upset. She'd always think he could just handle anything- He made eye contact with her. Harley was smiling sadly.
"You're fine. It's okay." She murmured quietly. Joker looked down at her bruises.
"That looks neat.." He sighed realizing what he did.
"I'm not afraid of you." Harley whispered into the dark. 
"You should be." He breathed. "You deserve a normal life."
"A normal life?" Harley repeated with a breathy laugh.

"I could kill you."
The sharpness and volume of Joker's voice startled her, and she leaned back, away from him. Harley looked at him.. he felt his heart break.
"You won't." She shook her head.
"I might." He asserted. "I can't control it when I'm sleeping. I have interesting dreams."
"So what?" Her voice was harsh, and it was Joker's turn to be surprised. He was lost for words- staring at Harley.
"Don't you understand? I'm dangerous. I kill people-"
"I know." Harley shouted.
"I'm not afraid."
"Well you should be." Joker closed his eyes, wiping his hand across his face.

After a long silence he pulled her close. She was warm. He wrapped his arms around her waist.
"We don't talk about this again." He breathed.
"Ok." She answered.