Harley Quinn & The Joker One-Shots - Book 1

Villainous Valentines

He studied himself intently in the mirror, analyzing the sharp scars and bruises blemish his milky-colored face into a coloration of a pale rainbow. Nevertheless, he continued applying a thick coat of ruby crimson lipstick upon his lips, allowing the greasy and creamy hue to lather his lips until they were forced to crease. He wanted to make sure that his art would be painted tonight on Harley, something he'd visually be able to see by morning.

His hair wearily skimmed across his forehead, forcing a green silhouette across the tip of his nose, as he foolishly tried shoo it away, only to find the pesky strand just waiting to wisp back onto the bed of his brow bone. He sighed, tsking away as he analyzed his bow work. He could do better than ties, not to mention, Harley enjoyed the assertion of colors and designs on his bows anyway. They were more decorative, and more sexually fluent, as Harley would easily be able to seductively rip the bow off of his suit and place it wherever she'd like. The things she'd do with a bow - the craziness was part of her charm.

The brim of the counter was covered in a splash of purple champagne, as it dripped from the bottle he had taken into the bathroom, onto his purple trousers that hung loosely against his waist, but fit at all the right spots, surprisingly. The scene was arousing, one of his favorites. He felt undeniably charming.

He wanted it to seem effortless, but he instead had to force himself to believe he did in fact not put any effort in, despite what actually occurred.

An ample amount of red roses were spread out in an array of different designs, each resembling Harley's favorite weapons. The bouquets were sprawled out all over the marble floor, with candles close beside them. No, The Joker had not bought red roses, he instead painstakingly painted every single one of them in a different shade of blood. What were once solid white, creamy, innocent flowers were now steamy vermillion roses brewed from the devil himself, not one wilting like the one attached to his suit, which he knew he had to replace. But God knows how unique and exquisite his acid flowers were...

He adjusted his coat that covered his body in a luxurious fabric, which had easily cost in itself more than 5,000 dollars cash. His acid flower hung loosely to his suit, waiting for a glamorous glow-up in petals. He grinned, noticing the twinkle in his eye glow every so lightly as a twinge shocked him from his chest. It grew heavy, though only images of the blonde's mysterious figure was set at mind, he was even more committed to changing the flower petals, to make them, more presentable.

The plan was set already, as it had been since six months ago when Harley had giggled in a shy admiration for a dumb emerald necklace at a jeweler store, which he had found absolutely disrespectful to a hard night's work. Though, it was just the one night anyways.

So, as disgraceful as the mission would be, it was best kept at high hopes that Harley would enjoy it like she said she would.

Finalizing his last intent grin into the mirror, he popped a mint into the ghastly stench of death his breath currently gave. Even though, Harley's thick scent and taste of bubblegum cherry lollipops normally would block the prominent reek.

With his slacks well adjusted, he fled down the stairs, smelling an overpowering amount of candle flavors run through his nostrils, causing him to wince. He slyly grinned, awaiting her appearance.

And as he wished, a glimmer of modern sequins aligned into a vibrant red and velvet black pattern tightly pressed against her pale skin. The dark inky color bolded the tats written against her silky complexion, and the red colors within her coverage glowed of a red shadow over her deep, rusty blue orbs, making an illusion of purple patterns dance in her eyes enthusiastically.