Jðkêr//Är†hµr x RêåÐêr ïmågïñê§ & ðñê-§hð†§

• Inmates (Pt.3)

--3rd person POV--

It was a relief for (y/n) to be outside and get some much-needed fresh air to clear her head. Well, as fresh as the exhaust fume-choked atmosphere of central Gotham had to offer.

It was bizarre being out in the enclosed grounds, hearing the traffic mulling by outside of the hospital yet being cut-off from the world, imprisoned in these mundane, bleak surroundings.

Several guards and hospital orderlys patrolled the grassy outside area, keeping a close eye on the inmates, their presence a constant reminder for them to behave.

Across from the steps where she sat, Arthur was lounging on a bench smoking a cigarette, looking so at ease you'd think he was sitting on a park bench with not a care in the world.

Did he even have a conscience? At first (y/n) had doubted it, but given the fact that his laughing episodes were becoming more frequent she was inclined to believe that he did.

What was scary is the man knew the difference between right and wrong. If he was capable of feeling remorse or regret, that could make him the worse kind of sociopath. Unlike psychopaths, sociopaths were at least capable of feeling those things, as well as a modicum of empathy.

(y/n) was seriously starting to have her doubts about the preconceptions she'd formed of him, regardless of the labels his previous therapists had stuck on him.

Just then he turned her way and saw her watching him. She swore under her breath and hastily turned away, furious at herself for having been caught staring at him for a second time now. And since they'd begun playing this weird little game they hadn't said a word to one another. Not since that awkward, bizarre, heated kiss they'd shared several days ago. Now she knew he would be smug about her watching him.

To prove her theory she stole another glance at him, and just as she'd suspected he was silently gloating.

How could she tell?

The bastard smirked at her. Openly, brazenly, smirked at her. The satisfied smile was still firmly on his face even when he looked away.

Feeling something snap inside her, possibly a rogue neurone in her brain, (y/n) got to her feet and begrudgingly made her way over to where he was sat. At least he was by himself.

Standing over him, she waited for him to say something. A snarky remark, anything. But he didn't. He just carried on smoking his cigarette, refusing to acknowledge her presence.

(y/n) stood there for at least a whole minute, before finally cracking.

"You know....this is getting kinda boring now, wouldn't you say?"

Arthur blew a smoke ring, his eyes affixed on the way the smoked curled in the air before dispersing on the breeze. Then his gaze languidly came to rest on her.

"I'm sorry, what? Were you talking to me?"

Bristling, (y/n) sucked her teeth. Trying hard not to lose her temper.

"You know damn well I'm talking to you. There's nobody else here."

"There's plenty of other people around." He made a big show of gesturing to his left then right. "Why don't you go and talk to them?"