(A/N: Hey! So I know that I actually had this little chapter under my imagines story but then I started thinking and realized this would be a good oneshot and that I want to make more oneshots with Joker and Harley, so I'm making a book. thank you for reading! xoxo)
Harley sat on the black living room couch, watching the news on T.V and twirling her knife. She was waiting for the Joker to arrive from his heist, but 98% of the time, she would fall asleep with the T.V still on and in the mornings she somehow ended back up in her bedroom.
It's been a couple of hours so far. Harley was growing tired and her eyes started to close with the pocket knife still in her hand. She was in her pajamas-long, soft pants and a t-shirt. Just as she thought she was going to go off into dreamland, she heard the front door slam shut and she jolted awake. Footsteps were heard on the dark wood floor, getting closer to her. This is weird, Harley thought, he usually doesn't get home until way past midnight.
The Joker walked slowly into the living room, his face solemn. His blue eyes wondered around the room as if he wasn't sure why he was there in the first place. His hair was slightly tousled from the heist and some bruises on his cheek. He found Harley sitting up on the couch who had been staring at him this whole time, taking him in.
The Joker suddenly raised his purple handgun, pointing straight at Harley's head. Harley's breath caught in her throat and she flinched slightly. He had never done this before and his expression was unreadable. He looked like he had a thousand thoughts running through his mind but his eyes bore into Harley's like a lion.
He was angry about something. Something that happened during his heist or his business deal. Something that made him want to shoot his Harley Quinn so he didn't have to worry about her anymore. He didn't have to have a weakness and have Harley used against him in business deals or heists. If he shot her, he would be completely free. Nothing could be used against him. Nothing to lose.
He was so close to pulling the trigger. His hand slightly shaking from his overwhelming emotions. He continued to stare into Harley's blue eyes, eyes that held fear and confusion. But, he second guessed his thoughts again. Something told him to put the gun down. A voice screamed in the back of his head.
What are you doing?! She doesn't deserve this. She's your Harley Quinn.
Harley made him who he was today. And he was the one who transformed her. All that work for nothing?
Harley knew better and she kept her mouth shut, for if she spoke, she could've gotten a beating--endless amounts of torture--which was way worse than a bullet in your head. She stared back at him, locked in his gaze. She tried to search for some type of sign, some flicker in his eyes, anything. The only sound in the room was J's heavy breathing but the tension between them was increasing.
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Finally, the Joker lowered his gun slowly to his side and it seemed as if he snapped out of his trance. He growled in frustration, looking away from Harley and running a hand through his hair. J let go of his gun, letting it hit the wooden floor with a bang. He walked slowly over to Harley where she was sitting on the couch and silently sat next to her, leaning forward and putting his head in his hands.
He usually beats me to get the anger out of him from not being able to get the Bat, Harley thought.
"Puddin'?" She whispered and touched his back softly. He took his head out of his hands and looked at her for a moment, his expression always unreadable. He sighed and sat back on the couch, staring into the openness of the living room. Is he mad at me? "You wanna talk about it?" Harley asked quietly, careful not to set him off in any way. This must be about some heist.
"No."
Silence filled the room again and it was deafening. After a moment, Harley knew it was her cue to go away and leave him alone. She figured he wouldn't tell her. He rarely ever told her how she feels. She stood up from the couch, slid on her pink slippers and shuffled in front of him to make her way upstairs. But the Joker reached forward and grabbed her wrist, stopping her in her tracks. She gasped when she felt his strong grip and it pulled her down to the couch with him. They were sitting, facing each other on the couch. Her eyes widened and her eyebrows scrunched in confusion.
The Jokers eyes scanned her body and then found her eyes. After what felt like a couple of minutes, he leaned into Harley, closing his tired lids, and rested his forehead onto her shoulder. Harley took this by surprise and she smiled softly and stroked his hair.
The Joker was frustrated that he couldn't kill her even if he wanted to. But at the same time, he was glad that he listened to that small voice in the back of his head. He needed Harley as much as he hated to admit it, weather she would be used against him or not.
He nuzzled a bit more into her curls and Harley's smile grew a tiny bit bigger. He was like a child sometimes and couldn't express his feelings in words. Harley knew better than to talk and ask him what was going on. There's no point.
Harley pulled themselves back on the couch so her Puddin' could rest. He lay his head on her shoulder now and Harley continued to run her fingers through his hair, resulting in his soft purring.
Harley knew this was a rare occasion in which she wouldn't end up in a puddle of bruises and red marks and broken ribs. She kept her happiness to herself and gazed out into the huge living room window that overlooked Gotham. Everyone in the city was probably at out at clubs, at a bar, getting robbed, getting involved in some crime. The city was busy with chaos tonight. But Harley Quinn and the Joker were relaxing silently on their living room couch. Whatever happened with the Joker and Batman or some other person that he was against, it wasn't good. But the Joker seemed to have given up that night and not take his anger out on his girl for once. Harley took this all in and looked down at her Puddin' who seemed to be sleeping now, leaned into her shoulder. He looked peaceful like nothing was worrying him.
He's never done this before but the Joker didn't need words. He didn't need to explain himself. Harley always knew exactly what he was thinking.
