Harley woke up feeling hot. She kicked the comforter off her, and sat up. The sheet peeled away from her back. She sighed and took a cold shower. The cold water slid off her pale, slim body.
She dried herself and put on a large t-shirt with sweat pants. She dried her hair and threw it up in a messy bun. She walked towards Joker's office. Lightly, she knocked on the door. "What?" Slowly, Harley opened the door. "Mistah J...?"
Joker's head snapped up. He couldn't help but notice her voice was weak, and scratchy. She also looked ill. She was pale, more so than usual. She had faint dark circles under her eyes. Her gaze on his was weak, and fragile. "Harley...? Is something wrong?" He didn't like being this warm towards her, or anyone, but it seemed that the wrong tone would shatter her completely. And as much as he'd hate to admit it, he loved her. In his own sick, twisted way, he, the Joker, loved her.
Harley took a deep breath. "I feel sick. Like, really sick." She hung her head in shame. Harley knew he didn't like weaklings. She knew he already thought of her as a weak, she didn't need this to add too it. "How?" Joker asked. She slowly walked up to the desk. "I feel nauseous, and hot, and dizzy." Joker looked at her for a moment. He set his pen down, and extended an arm toward her. He curled his hand around her thin waist, and gently pulled her to sit on his lap.
Harley was surprised by this gesture. He's never like this. I mean come on, it's the Joker! "Just relax today, okay?" Harley nodded, wrapping her arms around his neck and laying on his shoulder. "Okay, puddin'."
A/N: BAM! Another scene, it's short but it's been a while since I last updated. So, consider this a filler.
Personally, I think I did a much better job on this one. You know? I used a lot more discriptibe language.
So yeah!
Xoxo
~Ari
