Property Of Joker | ✓

07 | aberrant

07 | aberrant

(adj.) being out of the ordinary

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

It has been a week.

I tried everything I could. I bought him chocolates. So many gifts. Tried to sweet-talk him, gave him more space, making the security guards treat him nice, called him Mr.J, let him tease me, let him have his fun. I tried everything. Yet, I still couldn't make him spill out anything.

I am a useless piece of shit.

I am going to die of embarrasment today, because today is the last day of the deal and if he does not see the file today in his office, then I might probably be thrown out of here through the highest window of the building.

My session was starting soon and I felt like I had lost all hope.

Swiping the card, waiting for the glass door to move, I made my way inside the cell to see him already sitting in his chair, waiting for me. He was looking down at his feet, tapping his fingers on the table, creating some rhythm, while he was crouched down.

Scraping the metal chair on the floor, I plopped down angrily, feeling a boost of confidence surge through my veins. I was beyond pissed. At the sound, he looked up, gave me that Joker smile and I gave nothing back and just glared at him. His head turned to the side, his smile turning to a frown and he gave me a wink, before smiling again. After not responding to it either, he leaned forward, studying my expression, trying to read me and I sighed.

I was used to him by now. The way his head moved when he talked, the way his eyes always stayed on me, trying to intimidate me(which works sometimes), the way he would suddenly burst out laughing or stood up from his seat to make a point, or how his voice would go loud all of a sudden, his jokes about the batman, the hate he has for him, the way he tries to woo me, like a gentleman.

I was used to it by now.

I closed my eyes and let out a deep breath.

I opened them to see him, still leaned forward, studying me, waiting for me to say something.

"I am your psychiatrist right?" I asked him.

"Yes." He answered, bobbing his head up and down.

"And..." I stopped, putting my face into my hands and whispered, oh god.

I am such a bad psychiatrist. I haven't even had one ounce of information from him. Not even a speck. I am a loser. He was right. I am probably getting out of here and never coming back. Its not my fault. I have tried everything.

No.

Yes.

No. You are a woman, Harleen. Use your gifts that god gave ya.

No.

I fought with my conscience.

Am I going crazy?

Well, it is the one thing I haven't done.

Seduction.

I am really not good at it. I never had experience in that area. Nothing. Not a single drop.

Heck, I haven't even had my second kiss yet.

I felt hands on my shoulder and I tensed, but I knew who it was just by his touch, the gentle soft touch, like a feather. He squeezed them and I lifted my head from my hands. I looked above to see him smirking down at me. He was shirtless as usual.

"You need to relax." He said, dragging the x at the end, bending down, so that his lips were near my ear, mouthing those words out and his warm breath made my skin shiver slightly. "I need my cheery psychiatrist back." He said.

I didn't know why but that made me smile but it dropped just as soon as it came when I thought of why I was angry in the first place.

"Feel my touch." He whispered again, the slight erotic and deep tone was there, breathing near my ear and I slant back in my chair, his hands pushing me to do so. He squeezed me shoulders lightly and then glided his hands over my arms, so slowly and sensually.

It drove me slightly insane.

But, then again. Everything he does drives me insane.

His hands slid over my shoulders and went up and down my arm. They slowly came to my neck, and he massaged them, I could feel the immediate relaxation. It felt so good. The muscles there relaxed and I could feel my stress diffusing. The way his hands moved over my neck, gently and carefully, like a skilled massager. It felt really good and I moaned.

He stopped.

I frowned, opening my eyes and I never realised I had closed them.

"Why did you stop?" I asked.

He gave me no reply. I looked up to see him, looking at me. There was no smile. No expression. It was blank. No emotion displayed on his face and I frowned.

What's wrong?

I stood up from my chair, turning to look at him and crossed my arms over my chest.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

What he did next, made my heart race a mile.

In a split second, he pushed the chair seperating us away, and came right in front of me, pushing me against the table, his hands on my hips, supporting from toppling over, his face was so close to mine. His lips inches apart from mine. I could feel his erratic breathing. He was holding my hips firmly and I felt the place burning with his touch. I looked up to meet his eyes and froze.

His eyes were intense, they were cold, like ice. I felt an electrical chill run down my spine, through my body making my features numb, like ice. His cerulean eyes stared deep into my soul and like a cold mid-winter breeze. I could see myself in them, my shallow frame in his frozen irises that felt like ice and glass. Sharp enough to scar. His eyes were the blue of a water so deep that I was afraid to jump in, but I was still tempted to.

I could practically see the word lust written across them.

"You are touching my body without using your hands." He said, in a throaty deep voice, his breath fell on my lips and it made my heart skip a beat.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Hey, everyone!

How hot is Mistah J in this one?

Comment, vote and share.