Damaged Beyond Repair (Joker Fanfiction)

Chapter Seven: Reflection

As soon as I got back to my room I let out a deep sigh and sat on my bed, putting my head in my hands. I can't believe I actually kissed him! I wasn't sure where to go from here... Of course I liked kissing him, it was something I couldn't get off my mind for a while now. But there couldn't be a thing between us. It was a one-time thing. He was the Joker; he killed people, tortured people, and was a classified psychopath that many said was incapable of love. And the thing was, I knew he didn't love me. He obviously found me physically attractive, or "interesting", as he put it, but he had no type of romantic attraction to me; that was clear whenever he looked at me.

My mind tried to contradict itself, reminding me how he had caressed my cheek that morning when he thought I was asleep, and how he had thoughtfully draped a blanket over me when I fell asleep on the couch. Not to mention that he didn't take advantage of me when I was drunk, even though he easily could have. Honestly, he could take advantage of me when I was sober if he wanted to. But none of that said he was romantically attracted to me, it just told me that maybe he was a gentleman underneath the mask he put on in front of everyone. I couldn't even imagine the Joker in any type of romantic relationship, which was just further proof in my mind that he wasn't interested in having one, now or ever.

I laid back on my bed, feeling as if I had made my mind up. I wouldn't talk to him about the kiss, or acknowledge it. I would pretend it never existed. I had enough respect for myself that I wouldn't stoop to having a purely sexual relationship with him just for pleasure. If I got into a relationship with someone, even him, I would want it to be based around love and caring for one another. Call me a hopeless romantic, but that's all I wanted in life. It's all I had ever wanted, but I haven't found it yet.

I probably won't ever find it, now that I've killed a man and escaped Arkham Asylum with the Joker, I thought to myself. With a resigned sigh I turned over and stared at the wall, trying to think of any option that didn't include staying with the Joker for any longer.

Technically, I could turn myself in and claim I'd been taken from the asylum by the Joker against my will, but why would I want to go back there? The only entertainment I'd had was talking to J, and if I went back now he obviously wouldn't be there. Without him to talk take I was sure I would have gone insane within the first week. So no, that option was out.

I honestly couldn't think of any other options laid out for me. I couldn't go into public in fear that I'd be recognized, and I couldn't even disguise myself and run away since J would likely be pissed and send his men to find me. After all of the things I'd heard of the Joker doing, I wouldn't put it past him to come looking for me. And when he found me it wouldn't be pretty. I shuddered at the thought and moved on to the next option.

But what option was there? I thought as hard as I could, but I just couldn't think of anything else that didn't include staying here. It isn't that this is a bad house, no, but I don't think I'll ever get used to living under the same roof as a criminal and murderer, especially the Joker.

I resigned to closing my eyes and trying to sleep so I could think more about it in the morning. But every time I closed my eyes I saw his face and tasted his lips on mine. It was intoxicating, the way he kissed, and I had nearly lost all of my self-control then and there. With past boyfriends, it had always been easy to stop them before things went too far for my liking, but not with him. He was like some type of drug that I couldn't get enough of; and hell, maybe I didn't want to get enough of him... Maybe I wanted to give in. I couldn't deny it; a big part of me wanted him. But the smaller, more logical part of my brain scolded me, reminding me of my personal vow to pretend like nothing happened and just go about my business when I next saw him.