<| Jarley OneShots |>

Forgive me?//42.

Info:After an argument Harley refuses to sleep in the same room as the Joker. But maybe his expensive gifts can influence her?-

<<<Authors P.O.V>>>

"Harley!" The voice of the infamous clown boomed throughout the empty club. "Get back here!" He roared, tone filled with anger and irritation.

An equally annoyed shriek was heard in response. "No!" She glared as the Joker marched after her towards the bar area. "Y-You asshole!" She couldn't think of a word suitable for this argument as all of the angry thoughts swarmed her head.

"You get your ass back here or else." He snarled, snapping his fingers on the ground opposite him.

"Or else what?" Harley snapped, hands on hips, giving him a stern look. "You'll slap me again? You'll punch me? You'll kick me?" She blurted out, vision blurring as thick tears coated her eyes. "I could go on."

The Jokers knuckles whitened, fists shaking in rage as he forced himself not to give into her tormenting. His breathing was now erratic, chest rising and falling at rapid speeds. A small blue vein began to bulge above his brow, visible from where Harley was standing.

Just as he opened his mouth to speak she interrupted him. "No," She held up a hand, tears now running freely down her heavily made up cheeks. "Not a word." She sniffled, as crystal droplets began to slip from her eyes.

The Jokers mind went numb. His fists began to loosen and his breathing steadied. He didn't know what to say. Should he say sorry? Should he tell her off? Should he demand respect? The options ran through his head, eyes appearing motionless.

She plastered on her most confident face before walking straight past him, careful not to touch him, which could easily set him off. He stood still for a few more seconds, registering what was going on.

|~|~|~|

The Joker entered their elegantly painted bedroom, greeted with a single pillow sitting on his side of the black sheets. Harley's was absent. He could hear her in the living room a few doors down. He followed the noise, leading him to a busy Harley, preparing a bed on their purple leather couch.

He stood silently by the door, watching with curiosity as she continued with her task. She began to smooth down the sheets, sighing with satisfaction.

"What are you doing?" J caught her off guard, immediately causing her to jump 2 inches off the ground. She spun around, hand on heart as she stood with wide eyes.

"What does it look like?" She retorted, turning back to the leather couch, which would be her resting place for the night.

"Harley I didn't mean-"J began but his apology was short lived.

"I don't want an apology." She sighed.

The Joker stood confused. His non-existent brows furrowed as he began to think. What did she want then? He could easily give her a punch goodnight if she kept this attitude up.

With that he left the room, on the search for something to influence her into accepting his apology.

What would Harley want? He asked himself, thinking as he marched into his office. The dark grey walls stood still, flaking paint collected on the dark wooden floorboards at each corner. A dark red, expensive leather chair sat opposite a mahogany desk, which held a black pen and piles of blueprints.