masochist : harley quinn

21

I kept my head down, too terrified to look up at Mister J on the car ride back to his place.
"Harley, look at me." He spoke softer than I thought he would.
I stared at him across the car, bottom lip trembling.
"Did he touch you?" He asked, thinly veiled anger bubbling under the surface.
"N-No. I swear." I promised him.
"You really like him?" He asked, staring at me intensely. A small part of me wanted to yell 'eyes on the road!' but I ignored it.
"He's my friend, Mister J. Just a friend. Please don't kill him." I begged feebly. I was so tired of begging.
"If you're really so...fond of him, I'll leave him alone. But you have to promise - promise me that if he ever touches you, you tell me." His grey eyes darkened. "And if I find out anything's going on between you two...I'll make you kill him yourself." He grinned.

I nodded nervously, pushing aside the cold anxiety running through me.
"I'm glad we're in agreement, then." He grinned slyly.
There was a long silence where I watched Mister J drive, grey eyes glued to the road now. He knew I was staring at him. I think he liked it - he liked the attention and the adoration.
He was so...intense. In all senses. He had an intense presence - physically,  mentally, all of it. He was so much - so much to process and take on, all the time. Sometimes I felt like my brain was going to explode, all from him - all because he was so...much.
"So anyway," he said, hand drifting to my thigh. He licked his lips. "Miss me baby?" He asked devilishly. I took too long to respond and then he was angry.
"What, didn't miss me? Ha! Well, honey, you know where the door is!" He said, yelled, slamming the brakes hard, smoking rubber visible out the car window.
"W-What? M-Mister J! I missed you, okay, I did, I swear. Don't throw me out. I-I can't deal with it!" I sobbed, eyes blurring with mascara-tainted tears.
"Fuck off, Harley. Deal with it." He spat, shoving me out onto the street for the second time that night.

I was so fucking done. I was done with him. I wished more than anything in that moment than for his stupid purple car to fly off the road. Into a pole. Then into a tree. Then off a bridge.
But he didn't.

And I was once again stuck, all alone, in the middle of Gotham city.

"Fuck!" I yelled into the empty street.
"Oh, believe me, I'd like to!" A gravelly voice hollered from behind me.
"Fuck off, buddy," I laughed bitterly. This was the last thing I needed. "I'm not having a great night."
"Oh, I'll make it better for you, baby!" He laughed.
I wheeled around, just about ready to sock him in the jaw. I reached into my purse and grabbed for the glittering purple handgun inside it, pressing it into the guy's temple.
"Leave me the fuck alone," I seethed at him, ready to take the day's anger out on this stranger. "You leave me the fuck alone, and all the other girls you've yelled at. Leave us alone!" I screamed, tears pricking in my eyes.

As I was about to pull the trigger, a pale cold hand reached out to stop me.
"Woah, woah, woah, honey, chill. I know, I know - I wanna kill scumbags like this too - but we can't go around picking off all the catcalling men in the world - we gotta keep some punching bags." A woman's voice smirked from behind me.
I whipped around, lowering the gun from the terrified man's head. He was shaking with fear beside me.
"Who are you?" I asked the woman in front of me. She was pale, her skin looked like it was glowing under the white streetlights. Her hair was wild and flaming red, and there were a few tiny leaves fallen amongst her strands. She had black jeans and a dark tee shirt on, with a dark green leather jacket over her shoulders.
"W-What the fuck is going on?" The guy spoke shakily.
"Shut up!" The woman and I yelled at him in unison.
"Come on, blondie." The red haired woman grinned at me. She grabbed for my hand and started to lead me away from the man.
I was so shocked at everything that had happened so fast - maybe almost as shocked as the catcaller when the red-haired woman let my hand go and turned back around.
"In future, leave girls alone." She smiled sweetly at him before kicking him between the legs. He was quick to fall to the ground, hurling profanities and insults at us as we ran in the opposite direction.

"You got a name?" I gasped for breath through my laughter as we ran through the dark Gotham streets.
"Pamela - but call me Ivy."

(A/N: Sorry @ late update. Not losing interest in this fic, just losing steam :/ x)