a dance of doves & crows ( jonathan crane )

infatuation and idealism .

notes: hey all! i dont have a lot to say other than THANK GOD THE HOLIDAYS ARE ALMOST OVER. man, they really kicked my ass . im talking ripped my hair out, spit in my face, kicked me down the stairs

love you so much mwah take care of yourselves hope you had a better time than i did !!!!

song of the chapter: you by radiohead

"Jesus Christ, Jon. What have you done?"

Harleen's voice echoed throughout the other room the second she entered, and Jules couldn't possibly resist leaning in closer to the cold, sleek door.

Close enough for her forehead to thunk against the metal, and for Jules to silently thank the closet for hiding her from that embarrassment. Only her current shrink knew she was there, and she was sure if she were found it would cause a bigger explosion between the two.

But why? Jules couldn't even guess.

She knew they were friends.

She knew Crane was softer on Harleen Quinzel than the rest of his coworkers (who he repeatedly insisted were incompetent, even to Jules herself), but since she had rejoined; she hadn't heard a word about her. Not even in passing, as if the grudge he held against her was so strong he wouldn't even allow himself to think about her.

It's not like Crane was one to brag about his friends, and she certainly couldn't imagine them spending much time outside of Arkham together — but Doctor Quinzel was the closest thing her shrink had to a companion.

Or... so she thought.

The blonde woman's tone is nothing short of furious, accusatory towards Crane in the way that set her on the defensive, even though she was safely tucked into a pantry closet. Forgotten by everyone except for Doctor Crane.

She was supposed to be looking for the packets of Oreos and thin mints they handed out in Rec Time, but that assignment had been completely abandoned and neglected before she even started.

It was stupid anyways. Crane was only trying to take her mind off of the nightmare she had; "allowing" her to break the rules in such an inconsequential way by raiding the asylum pantry... Silly. It was silly.

Still. It was a kind gesture of him, to lead her down the hallway and keep watch while she stuffed colorful packets of cookies into her pants and in her bra.

"Excuse me?" Crane's offense is immediately understandable to Jules— though it took her a second to catch. He was nearly always calm, collected ; and he would not break that for Harleen's furious attitude with him. The girl in the closet is only able to notice it by the edgy grit in his words, and she could almost picture his ticking jaw if she were to close her eyes.

Jules' (slightly still throbbing) forehead tilted towards the door again, towards the source of her shrink and her acquaintance.

Was he worried about Harleen finding out about her here? Would Harleen be even angrier, if she knew?

"I can fucking see it on you. Jon. I'm serious." Harleen was almost scolding him, the way that trusted old friends reprimand each other on their shitty behavior.

It felt strange, even to an outsider like Jules. What could possibly be that important, to stop Crane in the middle of the day?

Of course, a girl could assume. It had to be because of her, right? She had thrown quite a fit, made a bit of a mess. . .