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The Joker did not like when you would spend time with other people. Especially other men. He hated the way they looked at you, with those eyes filled with hunger and desire and those lips that wished nothing more but to touch yours. He hated the way you didn't seem to mind all of that attention you frequently got, he hated how you would even smile at some men the way you'd smile at him.
You flinched when what ever was on your desk was set flying as your angry boyfriend nearly broke the table in the process. A frustrated sigh escaped his lips as he looked away from you, ruffling his usually neat green hair. Abruptly, he turned to you, pointing an accusing finger at you and your cleavage, "I hate," He started, venom dripping with each word, "I hate the way they look at you." You blinked at the statement, relief settling in you as for a moment you were starting to think he was angry with you. Delicately, you stood up, ignoring the fact that most likely everyone in your work building heard the Jokers outburst. Slowly, you paced to him, watching carefully as his eyes roamed your body before he looked away. Your palms landed on his pale cheeks, drawing a sigh from his parted lips as he finally peered into your eyes. Your heart jumped.
"The only one I care about is you." You declared, your voice soft, afraid to set him off again, "The rest can burn for all I care."
"And they will." The kiss in which he legitimized his statement was much rougher than you expected.
