Asylum Romance (A Joker Story [Sequel to Turquoise punchline])

19: Breakfast With Whitney

“Could I move rooms?” Gadget asked the next morning as her and I had breakfast together. I was wearing a beautiful brown wig, it was a shade darker than her hair and it cascaded down my shoulders in a sexy fashion. I was also wearing a beautiful red and orange summer dress, while she wore a green shirt and a white skirt. Her hair was up in a ponytail, bangs over one of her eyes. Our relationship had strengthened, as she was reliable and we got along perfectly.

“Why?” I spoke, frowning softly, setting down my cup of coffee. 

“Well, I’m tired of hearing you and J. . . .Shagging.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Jealous?” I joked, but kept a serious face.

She stared at me for a long moment, unable to tell if I was joking or not, but once the left corner of my mouth curled and it was obvious I was smirking, she let out a loud laugh. “Dear God, you’re funny.”

“I know, I know. That’s why J loves me,” I shrugged. 

“And because you’re beautiful, and strong, and almost as crazy as him!” she let out a soft laugh. Her fingers brushed along the fork to her right, and her eyes adverted back to the menu.

I took out my phone to text him. “Love you, baby!” it read. I pressed send and set my phone on the table, waiting for a response.

“What are you getting?” she asked.

“French toast,” I responded, picking up my phone, which had gone off.

“I love you too, honey. Xoxo.” he responded. I smirked at the ‘xoxo’ part. Seemed a little old fashioned to me, but it was cute.

“Dammit, when will I meet Mr. Right?” Gadget wailed, leaning back in her seat, a huge frown on her face.

“Well, I wasn’t really expecting to meet J, I just did.”

“How did you know it was love?”

I smiled softly, looking down at my hands. My fingers played with the wedding ring ever so carefully. “I was thrown into his room as punishment for pissing off one of the workers. I treated him as if he wasn’t a deadly lion, but a house cat. It took him off guard, but we had such a playful, carefree conversation. At that moment, we started talking about the pills they would routinely give us, my heart would not stop going crazy.”

She watched me with a gentle expression. “He felt the same way?”

My eyes met hers. “Well,” I giggled. “I could tell he was crazy about me as well. He told me his real name that day, and he was such a . . . .Gentleman. I could see and feel his emotions, and he could feel mine,” I stared off out of the window, biting the corner of my bottom lip. I let go and let in a minuscule sigh. “Our Asylum Romance lasted long, at least. It still goes on! Brilliant, isn’t it?”

She placed her delicate hands on the menu in front of her, leaning forward in her seat, eyes watching my own. “He is so crazy about you, even now!”

“Really?” I gushed, my cheeks heating up in a bright blush. “Oh dear, what did he tell you?”

A laugh escaped her lips, but she quickly placed a hand over them. Her eyes mischievously viewed me. I patiently waited, my face starting to hurt from constantly smiling. “Whenever I have to team up with him, he’ll always bring you up!”

“What does he say?” I was awfully curious now.

“Stuff like ‘Oh, Evangeline’s hair is so beautiful today, did you see it? I like it when she doesn’t put it up’, and ‘Her eyes sparkle when she’s happy, do you notice?’”

“No,” I gasped, entertained. “You’re lying!”

“No, that’s the funny thing! I’m not!” she cried out with laughter, and I, too, let myself let out a long laugh. He was a lot softer than he wanted to appear!