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Jerome x Reader

    You lay on the grass, in a meadow just outside the city, not far from the Wayne estate, now that you think about it. Jerome is lying next to you, and the both of you are staring up at the sky, where thick puffy clouds float across the air. It's one of those rare sunny days where you can actually differentiate the clouds from each other because they're not all stuck together in one giant mass, ready to produce rain at any time.
    "Look," you say, pointing out at one of the puffier ones. "That one's a bunny."
    "Meh, looks more like that 'M' guy's mangled body after I pushed him off the Gotham Gazette."
    He giggles as you poke poke him in the ribcage. "God, why do you have to be so morbid all the time? Can't we just look at clouds like normal people?"
    He ignored your last comment and pointed out another cloud. "Hey, that one's fat enough to be Greenwood! Maybe it's Greenwood's ghost!"
    "Wasn't Greenwood the cannibal guy you shot at the precinct?" you ask.
    "He stole my line," Jerome replied in frustration.
You chuckle softly at his psycho-behavior, for it's simply the way he is. Snuggling up closer to him, you point at another cloud and ask him what that one looks like.
    "Hmm...looks like...a heart."
    "That's way too cliche to be real; did you even just say that?"
    Jerome smiled deviously. "Maybe I'm more romantic than you think, darling."
    "Or maybe," you say, getting up and brushing the grass off your jeans, "you're a murderous psychopath who just so happens to love someone very much."
He stands with you and grabs you around the waist, pulling you in for a violent kiss.
    "Probably that."

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