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

• Dancing In The Dark (pt.1)

Imagine: When you find yourself alone in the dark Arthur comes to keep you company, which takes a rather unexpected turn.

--1st person POV--

I've never found storms particularly frightening. As a kid, sure, but not so much these days.

When I'd heard the loud rumbling of thunder, I'd padded my way over to the window in my poky little apartment.

The sky over Gotham always seems to look bleak, as if the clouds have conspired against its residents, never allowing the sun to breach the permanent barrier they've created above the city. Even now that it's supposedly spring, and the nights getting progressively lighter, there's still no sunshine to speak of.

But within seconds of the thunder sounding, the sky turns as black as tar, and the heavens open. What starts out as an incessant pattering, quickly escalates into a full-on downpour. The rain lashing against the windowpane, followed by the sound of the howling wind, whistling through the chasm of the stairwell in the old building.

And then the lights flicker out, plunging my small living room into darkness. The only brief flashes of light are provided by the intermittent cracks of lightening, splitting through the late evening sky.

Now, one thing I'm not a huge fan of is the dark. It actually terrifies me. Being alone in the dark is even worse, and for some reason being all by myself in the dark while a storm rages outside, ramps-up my anxiety tenfold.

With my arms extended in front of me, I stumble across the room. The all-encompassing blackness making me feel suffocated. Trapped. Isolated.

Come on, get a grip (y/n), it's still your apartment. It's not like you're stranded in some foreign place. The boogeyman isn't going to materialise from the darkness itself and get you, for god sake!

But getting a grip is easier said than done. If it was that easy then no one would have to suffer at the hands of their anxieties. And besides, I might be in my apartment but Gotham is a scary place, plagued by crime, and power-outages are a criminals dream. Hence why most burglaries happen at night, obviously.

I've always found the darkness scarily disorienting too. I'm suddenly unable to judge how far away the couch is. How close I am to the wall. I painfully stub my toe on the coffee table, letting out a string of expletives that would make a sailor blush.
Limping towards what I hope is the general direction of the armchair, I sink down onto the floor and draw my knees up to my chest, hugging them tightly in the manner of a worried child.

I'm not sure how long I sit there like that, chest tightening in panic, willing myself to be calm. It's probably only about ten minutes but it feels like hours.
Then suddenly, I hear a soft knock at the door.
At first I can't be sure I've actually heard it, the sound so quiet amidst the rolling thunder outside. But a few seconds later it comes again, this time a little more frantic.

I can't be certain I know who it is, as the neighbours in this place aren't exactly neighbourly. They tend to just keep themselves to themselves, and in typical Gotham fashion, everyone is distrustful of each other.

The only person it could be, is Arthur.

I've only lived here in this part of town a couple months, and I met Arthur the day I moved into the building.
He was dressed as, of all things, a clown. Which as first impressions go, had me thinking that perhaps I'd made a mistake moving here. My mother always warned me of the dangers of downtown Gotham, and while a guy dressed as a clown might not exactly seem too intimidating, her words did resonate, having insisted that the area was full of crazies, amongst other things.