Paper Planes

XXXVI

"Oh, you. You just couldn't let me go, could you? This is what happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object. You are truly incorruptible, aren't you? Huh? You won't kill me out of some misplaced sense of self-righteousness. And I won't kill you because you're just too much fun. I think you and I are destined to do this forever."
—Heath Ledger

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Ember lay entrapped in the bulky purple duvet, her limbs tangled in the heavy material as her eyelids continuously flickered open.

The woman preferred a pitch-black room whilst sleeping, and the taunting blue hue of the computer screen disturbed her chances of falling into a deep slumber.

She rotated her lanky limbs underneath the covers, burying the right side of her face deeply into the pillow as she squinted in the direction of the bright lighting.

The Joker sat hunched over his desk, a shirt absent as he aimlessly scribbled a felt pen against several sheets of paper. His outgrown curls framed the bare skin of his face, tickling the lacerations that mutiliated his cheeks as the tip of his tongue peeked gently through the slit of his lips in concentration.

"Babe," Ember throatily groaned, her voice laced with sleep as she buried herself deeper in the blankets. "Come to bed."

Joker ignored her request, head still hung low as he continued to jot whatever was in his jumbled head onto paper.

"I can't sleep with the light." Ember added, a hint of annoyance present in her tone as she eyed the theatrical man sat at the desk.

Once again, the Joker flat-out ignored her statement, intently focusing on his current task.

"Jo–"

"Go sleep on the fucking couch." The man snidely snipped, the tip of the pen ceasing to rotate as the muscles in his bicep visibly clenched.

Ember's brows knit together in indignation, her fingers lacing around the comforter as she tugged it over her head.

The irritating light disappeared underneath thick material, as well as a proper supply of oxygen. The woman immediately found it difficult to breathe beneath the comforter, and with a groan of detest, she ripped it from her face.

Several loose strands of hair fell into her eyes, courtesy of the static electricity between her hair and the blanket as she kicked the material from her legs. She mimicked a young child throwing a tantrum, her arms outstretching to claim her discarded clothing beside the bed as she hastily dressed.

Once her body was fully clothed, she let out a dramatic exhale, tugging a nearby blanket from the ground, along with a vibrant purple pillow, before exiting the room.

Joker hadn't even glanced up to see her leave.

The irate woman trudged down the dingy hallway, eyes contorting into slits at the blue hue that illuminated the living room.
Her toes caught onto blanket, which was partially dragging against the ground as she nearly tripped.

The living room sofa finally came into view once she'd rounded the corner, a wide-eyed Horton seated on one of the cushions as his gaze sat transfixed on the television.