--1st person POV--
A few days after visiting Arthur you're surprised to receive a letter from him,
Dear (y/n)
As I write this I'm still in shock from you coming to see me yesterday and I haven't been able to stop thinking about it since. How much you've changed and grown up, but one thing is still the same. You still have a big heart.
I hope you will come again and visit me soon. Honestly, I loved seeing you again.
Best wishes always,
Arthur.
You found yourself smiling moronically as you read, and re-read the letter several times.
Knowing that he'd been glad to see you made you so happy, and whether you liked it or not Arthur still meant a lot to you.
That was when you realised you just had to accept that there would always be a special place in your heart for him.
Your mind was instantly made up after the letter.
You wrote him back, even though you'd decided to visit him again that Friday, which meant he received the letter on the day of your visit....
"I just got your letter this morning." He beamed, as he took his seat facing you. "It made me smile. Thank you."
You smiled back at him goofily, feeling elated to have made him smile. "I'm glad, but you don't have to thank me."
His smile wavered a little, and his eyes lowered to the table. "I do."
"Why?"
"Because....well because it means a lot to me. I haven't had anything to smile about in a long time. Now I do."
Touched, you reached across and held his hand. You could see how deeply it affected him. The letter. The visits. Your touch.
The latter became glaringly obvious when he unexpectedly lifted your hand to his mouth and gently kissed the back of it, holding it against his lips as his eyes drifted shut.
You felt heat rushing through your body, blushing from the roots of your hair all the way down to your toes.
No one else had ever had this affect on you.
Only 'Carnival'.
Seemingly lost in his own little world, Arthur finally awoke from his trance and opened his eyes. He saw your amazed expression and hastily let your hand go, mumbling his apologies,
"I...I'm sorry (y/n), I shouldn't have done that--."
"No it's...it's fine, really." You assured him, cheeks still flaming.
He met your eyes and held your gaze steadily. "I'm just so glad you're here."
If your mind wasn't made up before, it certainly was then in that moment.
You vowed to always be there for him.
And you was.
Every week you visited him without fail, and letters were sent back and forth in between.
As time went by you kind of noticed the subtle shift in the way Arthur worded his letters, but tried not to dwell on it too much. The 'best wishes' became 'love' and in time, 'lots of love' then even 'all my love'.
He's just being friendly, you thought.
During your visits he often referred to you as his best friend, so it didn't necessarily mean anything more than that. Him loving you as a friend was only to be expected after all. You were all he had in the world.
"You have a positive influence on him." His doctor at Arkham explained, after one of your many visits. "I've observed a significant change in Arthur's behaviour and overall demeanour. Writing to you gives him a sense of purpose, and your visits and letters give him something to look forward to."
She paused, contemplating her next words carefully, and you waited anxiously, wondering if there'd be an inevitable "but".
"However, I would strongly advise that you proceed with caution. I've witnessed the development of your relationship and--"
"Wait, what?" You interjected, suddenly flustered. "We're just friends that's all. It's...it's nothing romantic."
The doctor stared at you, her deadpan expression hinting that she wasn't at all convinced. "Miss (y/l/n), whether you consider your closeness to Arthur romantic or not, you must be mindful that his feelings could run deeper. Which is why you need to be careful. He's emotionally fragile and if you unintentionally upset him I'm concerned there's a risk of him relapsing."
Relapsing?
The meaning of the ugly word and the possibility of Arthur suffering a relapse dropped in your mind like a heavy stone, and you weren't equipped to bear the weight of it.
Unwanted visions flashed through your minds eye, memories of the Murray Franklin TV footage, and Arthur standing on the hood of that police car as Joker, chilled you to the bone.
He wouldn't revert again, would he? He wouldn't kill anyone. And he would never harm you, surely.
More to the point, the idea of Arthur developing romantic feelings for you seemed absurd. He was so much older, he'd known you as a child so he would never see you as a grown woman. Even his sweet gestures of holding your hand and hugging you were completely platonic.
In fact, the more you though about it the more saddened you became, which worried you quite a bit.
You couldn't understand why the reality of him never being attracted to you that way, bothered you like it did. And you didn't dare overanalyse what it could mean.
"I've got some great news princess." Arthur blurted excitedly on your next visit. "Can you believe I've been reassessed and the board has granted me day release privileges?"
Your stomach lurched with excitement, mostly on his behalf but also your own.
The idea of being able to spend a day with Arthur away from the hospital made your heart soar.
But such news ended up being headline news, quite literally.
Somehow word got out, an orderly at Arkham possibly leaking information to the press in order to make a quick buck, and it was front page news within a matter of days.
The public responded in the typical fashion to the article which deliberately provoked such a reaction.
The perceived threat of Joker being allowed the freedom to wander Gotham struck fear into people's hearts and minds.
"Have you heard the news?" Your mom asked, having specifically dropped by just to discuss the matter with you. "They're letting him out!"
As casually as you could, you gave a carefree shrug of the shoulders. "Only for the day. It's not such a big deal."
Naturally your mom was incensed. "Not a big deal? Need I remind you that this is the man who kept you awake at night for years, while I picked up the pieces....and now you think this is no big deal!"
"It...it was years ago mom. I've moved on with my life. I grew up--"
"That man ruined your childhood (y/n). You're damaged because of him!"
You frowned at her, feeling angered. "I'm not damaged. I worked through my issues. You shouldn't let this get to you."
She shook her head, nostrils flaring with indignation. "Well they'll be sorry when he gets out and goes on a rampage. It's bound to cause riots and god knows how many people he could kill."
Taking a deep breath to calm yourself, you subtly changed the subject.
You couldn't deal with your mothers melodramatics.
She was just like the rest of them. Narrow minded and unwilling to try and understand.
When the day finally came of Arthur's trial day release, a driver was provided by the hospital and Arthur had to leave via the back entrance in order to avoid the awaiting press at the front gate.
You bounced on your heels impatiently as you waited to meet him by the car. Your stomach churned and your palms grew clammy with sweat. You assumed it was nervousness for Arthur. What else could it be?
After what felt like an eternity of waiting one of the rear doors opened, and there was Arthur, being escorted out by two guards.
Wearing simple clothing, grey trousers, a shirt beneath his navy sweater and a thin, tan coloured jacket, you found yourself staring at him in awe.
You'd never seen him in regular clothes before, and he looked like any other guy you passed on the street.
Except he wasn't just any guy to you.
To you he was....everything.
As soon as the handcuffs were removed you ran towards him, happier than ever to see him.
He yelped in surprise as you threw your arms around him, sending him stumbling backwards. He steadied you both, holding you tightly as he looked down at you, giddy with excitement.
"Is this really happening?" He grinned. "It doesn't seem real."
"It's real, Arthur." You smiled up at him. "You're a free man for the day."
As an extra precaution a guard placed a blanket over Arthur's head, to shield his identity.
You guided him to the car, then slid onto the back seat beside him.
"I had hoped we could do something fun, like go for dinner or maybe even Amusement Mile." You told him, as the car wound it's way through the early morning traffic. "But obviously because of all the recent press coverage and everything, the doctor said it's best to stay inside."
"Yeah, that would've been nice." He replied, sounding a little deflated. "But honestly, I don't mind where we go, as long as we're together."
Your heart pinched at his words. But he looked undeniably sad.
"Are you okay?" You asked, studying his sullen expression with concern.
"Oh, uh, yeah I'm fine. It's just...all the stuff the press have dragged up." He shook his head sadly. "I need you to know that...that you're safe with me. I would never hurt you, princess."
"Oh, Arthur. I know that." Gently you placed your hand on his arm reassuringly. "I trust you."
He breathed a sigh of immense relief, the hint of a smile playing on his lips. "Thank you. I'm glad you understand. Joker...well, that's not who I am anymore. I'm not the guy who did all those things. I'd rather be remembered as Carnival, you know? I loved being him. He just wanted to make people happy."
You nod understandingly, and feel suddenly lighter, which was kind of weird.
It's not like you feared Arthur, after all, but to hear him say that he wasn't Joker meant he didn't just regret what he'd done in the past, he'd moved on, and didn't want to be associated with the notorious clown persona that had broken your heart as a child.
He was your Carnival again, and you didn't need to see the makeup or silly wig. It was the man behind the costume that was fun and kindhearted, who made you smile and laugh. That was who you loved, and still did.
The realisation was sobering, your feelings forcing you to acknowledge the truth.
You loved 'Carnival' as a kid.
As an adult, you loved Arthur.
But it was still completely innocent, you'd convinced yourself of that.
It was natural to love someone as a friend, and you could still find them handsome, it didn't mean anything.
You arrived at your destination. The house you live in, an old Victorian townhouse in Gotham village, which has been converted into six small apartments.
"I'm sorry the choice was so limited." You say, leading him up the wrought iron steps to your door which leads onto a tiny roof terrace. "It isn't exactly much fun, having to come here."
"(y/n) I already told you, I'm just glad to be outta that place, and to be with you."
You let him in and watch as he looks around the room, considering your floral couch, antique coffee table, and little brick fireplace.
"I like your place." He says politely, admiring an oil painting of a landscape which hangs on the wall.
"It's small." You grumble, making your way through to the even tinier kitchen.
"It's cozy." You hear him say behind you, and all your nerves immediately stand to attention.
Arthur might be slim but he's tall, and his presence in the already small room made it seem even smaller.
Trying to focus, you reach into a cupboard for two cups. "Do you want a coffee? Or something else? Not alcohol though, obviously, I can't take you back drunk."
He chuckles softly, amused at the thought. "Yeah I'd definitely have my privileges revoked for that. Coffee's just fine, thanks."
You settle onto your little couch, and once again you're intensely aware of Arthur's proximity as you sit side by side, chatting as you drink your coffee.
His long legs are splayed out, his knee ever so subtly brushing yours.
You've never been able to sit so close to him. To be in his company in a relaxed environment, away from prying eyes in the hospital observation/visitors room.
Arthur seems to have settled in completely, as he slouches down, making himself comfortable as he talks about how bizarre it is, being in your home, seeing you in these surroundings, all grown up.
You smile and nod as you listen, but your eyes are glued to him and you wouldn't want to look away anyway. You've never seen him look so at ease, so casual, and it's genuinely heartwarming.
But you're suddenly feeling so horribly confused, and no matter how hard you try to concentrate on what you're both doing, you can't silence the nagging voice deep inside, the feelings that keep overriding your thoughts, pushing their way to the front of your mind.
You play board games and cards, the two of you both laughing like old friends. It all felt delightfully natural, and you're reminded of the way he used to do 'magic' as Carnival, when he shows you some card tricks.
"So, its just a matter of counting." He explains, demonstrating how he was able to know which card you picked out of the deck. "Counting and memorising."
"Aha....yeah." You manage to croak, unable to break free of this trance you're in.
He sits back and drags his hands through his unruly mane of hair, pushing it back from his face. Your eyes scan over him, and you can't help but think he's attractive.
Maddeningly, undeniably, attractive.
You swallow hard, as blood rushes to your cheeks.
You shouldn't be finding him attractive. This is Carnival. Your childhood friend. The adorable clown that brightened up your life.
And yet somehow your brain is able to separate the two, and whilst the love is still there, that innocent, playful love has been replaced by something much more grown up.
You'd grown up.
And, oh god. You wanted him.
"You okay, princess?" He asks suddenly, noticing how distracted you'd become.
You blink rapidly, feeling your heart gently pounding away in your chest, making your pulse misbehave.
Your throat clenched. "Um, yeah, sure. Never been better." You look down at your watch, unable to look him in the face, and you don't want him to see you blushing. "Hey it's lunchtime. What would you like to eat? We could order food in?"
"Okay." He draws the word out, sounding deliberately sceptical. "As long as you're alright?"
"Yeah, absolutely. Why wouldn't I be?" You chirp, feigning nonchalance.
You get to your feet, and begin hunting for a takeout leaflet, which you know you have several of, scattered about the place.
Eventually you find one, and after a brief discussion you agree on ordering Chinese food.
"Man, this is so good." He remarks, digging into his carton of noodles. "I can't remember the last time I ate a decent meal. Thank you so much for this (y/n). I wish I could pay you back but--"
"Shush!" You insist, impulsively placing your hand over his mouth, which surprises him. "It's nothing. Please, don't mention it. You're my guest."
You remove your hand to see him grinning adorably. "Alright. If you insist."
"I do."
"But I'll do the dishes."
You raise an eyebrow. "There aren't any dishes, silly."
He casts his gaze around, searching the room. "Then I'll....vacuum the rug."
Laughing, you dig him playfully in the ribs. "Are you saying my rug needs vacuuming?"
Squirming, he laughs too. "No. I just wanna be helpful."
"That's sweet, Arthur. But really, you don't owe me anything."
You switch on the TV and the pair of you eat in comfortable silence, apart from the odd outburst of laughter and playful banter as you both struggled to use your chopsticks correctly.
Contented and full, you settle back into the couch, and to your surprised delight he drapes his arm around you casually and pulls you into him, enjoying the closeness.
"This is nice." He smiles, as you rest your head against his chest, and all you can do is hum in agreement.
You're watching a random movie.
Well, Arthur is watching it, and you're too busy watching him.
You're getting away with it, that is until he turns his head to glance down at you and catches you gazing up at him like a smitten idiot.
His dark brows dip into a confused frown, but he's still smiling.
"What?" He asks, his voice so low and soft, his bright green eyes sparkling.
You couldn't speak even if you tried, so instead you respond by straining upwards, letting your instincts take control.
He doesn't have time to react, as you cautiously press your mouth to his, catching him off-guard.
His lips are warm and soft, and you feel them open as he lets out a small squeal of surprise, then he pulls back, gasping.
"(y/n)! What...what are you doing?" He asks, breathlessly.
"What I've been dying to do all day." You confess honestly.
His eyes widen in shock. "W-what? Wait, what are you saying?"
"I'm saying I've been wanting to kiss you since you got here. Maybe even before that, I don't know."
He shakes his head in disbelief. "No you can't (y/n). You...you shouldn't--"
"Why shouldn't I? I'm not breaking any rules. You won't get in trouble for it. And who cares anyway? No one is going to ask if I've been kissing you, and besides, it's nobody's business."
"But...but, why would you even want to?"
"What?"
He stands, his sudden attack of nerves not allowing him to be still.
"This is me, (y/n). Why would you want to kiss a guy like me?"
"Seriously?" You exclaim, eyes following him anxiously as he paces around in a circle. "Why wouldn't I? I've..." You take a deep breath. Knowing what you're about to say, but helpless to stop it. Because time is of the essence and you feel like if you don't get this off your chest it will drive you insane. "....I've always loved you, Arthur."
He comes to an abrupt stop and turns to face you fully. "You loved Carnival."
"I did, but I'm not a kid anymore. I love you Arthur!"
"(y/n)...you're a...a beautiful young woman." He says with some reluctance.
Maybe he's having difficulty separating the fact that even though he knew you as a kid, you're now an adult, and kissing you might seem wrong to him somehow.
"Any man would...would kill, to be with you." He continues.
You see him flinch at his poor choice of words, and suddenly you're on the edge of your seat, literally, and then you're on your feet. Unable to resist the urge to pull him into an awkward hug.
"Do you want me to prove it?" You say, challengingly. "I still have the red handkerchief you gave me. I've kept it all these years, because it was yours. Because you gave it to me. I-I sleep with it under my pillow for gods sake!"
He blinks rapidly, clearly astonished. "Y-you do?"
"I do. To feel closer to you, 'cause I'm in love with you."
"But you deserve better." He wraps his arms around your waist, because yours are threaded around his neck. "Someone younger. Someone with money who can take care of you, and make you happy."
"I don't want someone younger or with money." Your hand slides into his hair, and you feel him trembling against you. "I can take care of myself, and you make me happy. You always have."
"B-but we can't be together. I'm never getting out of Arkham. Not legally."
"I know." You can't hide the quaver in your voice. Overwhelmed with the hard rush of emotions. "But we're together now."
Your words must have a profound affect on him, because in the next instance his resistance crumbles to dust.
"(y/n), oh, god. I...I know I've fallen in love with you." He exhales shakily, and you feel the tension in his posture ebbing away so he's melting in your arms. "I tried so hard not to, but I just couldn't stop it. And I never dreamed that you could feel the same way."
You're pretty sure your heart explodes right then and there, bursting with unrivalled happiness.
"Well I do, so don't try to stop it." You whimper, caressing the nape of his neck sensually, delighting in the masculine sound of him groaning. "Show me."
"You...you want me to show you?" He sounds uncertain, but in spite of his reservations his large hands glide down to your hips, pulling you closer. "A-are you sure it's what you want?"
"Y-yes."
Standing on tiptoes your lips meet his as he leans down and kisses you deeply, gathering you up in his arms.
Dear god, it feels so good to be held by him. You're crushed against his solid chest and there's nowhere else on earth that you would rather be. Here. In Arthur's strong arms. Kissing him silly.
He feels so masculine, and certain. His lips feel like they were designed to fit against your own, perfectly. And he smells so good. The combination of his skin, his body spray, his pheromones...
You take his hand decisively and he lets you lead him to your room.
"I...I've never done this before." He admits shyly, as he gently pushes you back to recline on the soft mattress.
"Neither have I." You smile, kissing the side of his mouth as he leans above you. "Maybe we were made for each other, and us meeting was meant to be."
"I like that idea." Arthur smiles bashfully, leaning back so he can peel his sweater over his head.
You assist with the unbuttoning of his shirt, and he eagerly helps you slip out of your dress.
And there's no more hesitation or uncertainty, as you surrender everything to Arthur, your body, your heart, even your soul, and he willingly takes it all, offering you all of him in return.
And he wants it. So desperately. Now that he realises he's worthy of love, and being loved in return.
There are no words to describe how it feels, to finally give yourself to a man. Not just any man, but the one you've been besotted with all your life.
Any fantasies you've ever indulged in cannot compare to the reality.
It far surpasses all of your expectations.
Arthur is gentle and considerate; mindful of not causing you too much pain, and solely focused on your pleasure.
Knowing it is his first time too, only amplifies the deep connection; forging your bond even further, as the two of you become one.
He fills you and surrounds you with his love, as if he's always been there.
His arms hold you tightly but gently, he's around you and inside you, completing you.
He's the part of you that's always been missing.
You spend the rest of the afternoon in your comfortable bed, making love, whispering tender words of affection, and giggling like lovestruck fools you are.
You share a post-coital cigarette with him, then you cuddle up together; your legs entwined, Arthur softly stroking your hair.
Afternoon turns to evening too quickly, but at least you're both prepared for what you have to do.
Still, if you're being absolutely honest, you hadn't counted on it being quite so heart-wrenching as you walk him back to the rear door of the hospital, boldly holding his hand.
"You don't have to." He says, his tone whisper-soft. "People will talk. Word will get out. I don't want them judging you. You know what society's like."
"Fuck 'em!" You exclaimed, feeling brave and impassioned. "Let them judge. I don't care. I love you, Arthur Fleck. And I don't give a fuck what society says!"
Arthur's eyes grow wide, then he burst out laughing.
"What's so funny?" You ask, laughing along with him because his laughter is so beautiful and infectious.
"I've just...I've never heard you say anything like that before." He wipes his eyes, giving your hand an appreciative squeeze. "I couldn't imagine you cussing like that. You're funny. And amazing. And special. And...." He pulls you in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. ".....I can't believe that you're mine."
He kisses you fully on the lips, openly in front of the guards and the doctor, who's come to meet him at the door.
"Well you'd better believe it." You grin. "Because I always have been, and always will be yours, Arthur."
Hie green eyes shine as he gazes down at you adoringly, filled with uninhibited love and adoration. "Then I'm the luckiest man alive."
Reluctantly you say your final goodbyes, then he's escorted away inside, whistling happily; a visible spring in his step.
The doctor approaches you slowly, a wry smile on her face and one eyebrow is quirked in apparent amusement.
"Well I was going to enquire how the visit went. But I can see for myself that it was.....a success. That's impressive, and given his good behaviour..."
You blush a little, recalling how bad his behaviour had been a couple of hours ago, when the pair of you were tumbling around your bed. And you're thankful it's too dark for her to notice that your face has turned scarlet.
"....there's no reason why the day release arrangement can't be extended to a weekly basis rather than monthly." The doctor continues. "Who knows, perhaps in time the board might even grant him overnight visits too."
Your heart swells at the prospect. "Really? Oh wow, that would be fantastic!"
"Hm, I'm sure it would." She quips, giving you a knowing smirk. "I dare say our former Joker is going to be exceedingly cheerful from now on."
"Carnival."
She frowns at you, perplexed. "I'm sorry, what?"
You smile wistfully, already dreaming of when you'll see see him next, and all the things the two of you can do.
"You said former Joker. His name was Carnival."
End