He'd lean across the table, motioning with a single finger as he beckoned her over. A curl and a wind up to try and pull her back, back to him. He wanted her close, he knew that was a weakness of hers, and he was bound to exploit it. The desire she probably had to touch him back, and the fact he was almost giving her a chance to do it. When she leaned across the table he'd make no qualms to steal a peek down into that waiting cleavage with a brief moment of desire. But no, he fought it at this point, trying not to want to shove his hand down into there and tear that top open. To do the things that were screaming in his head, no. He had to focus, so he'd bring himself leaning across and up into her face. Bold, he'd move those hands up and take that face into his hands. There was no squeezing, this was a completely gentle and loving touch, though one with ulterior motives. He locked directly on those eyes as he spoke. "Harley. I. Want. Out."</b>
She followed without thinking, she didn't remember or even care that he was a self confessed killer. She wanted to place her hands on him, it made her heart ache when she couldn't touch him. In fact taking his cuffs off was her favorite part of their sessions, feeling the his pulse, his skin and even seeing the hair on his arms stand on end. At first she expecting something lewd and vivid to come out of that man's lips, but no. Hands on her face she let her lids flutter for a second, and her heart skipped a beat. For a moment she was scared, he had her in that position again. She heard his request of freedom, and she wanted to give it to him, oh did she ever. "Joker..." she whispered sadly, she already knew the answer and she struggled to get away from him, disappointed in herself. She didn't deserve his hands on her, and she fought with him. "I...can't do that. I know you want out, I know you do. I want to give it to you but..." And that's where it hurt, her brain searched and searched for an answer, for a reason. Why couldn't she let him out, release him on the city she hated. "I can't." Harley searched for reasons why she could let him out. Unless he was threatened she wouldn't let him out, but even then she'd protect him, it was even possible that she'd kill for him. Again she thrashed trying to free himself, the way she thrashed showed all her struggle mentally. She was fighting with herself and it was manifesting in front of him.
A flash of anger would take hold of him, and at first he wouldn't let go of her. He was trying not to strike, trying not to show the complete rage that filled him at her denial. She wasn't supposed to deny him, not when he asked for what he wanted. After what he had done to her, what he had done for her. But when she struggled to get away, he'd realize he was on the verge of possibly hurting her, and he gave in. He faltered. His hands releasing that hold on her and allowing that escape with a half defeated look. But suddenly a scowl over took him, and he was up moving around the table after her. Not to hurt her, though he looked frustrated, but determination drove him forward. Those hands moved quickly and found themselves on her arms now, turning her over to face him. Apologetic look taking him over as he started talking in that voice, dripping with sweet comfort despite his the suppressed viciousness. "No no no. You can Harley. Look at me.. don't look down. I'm not saying right now. I'm not saying tomorrow. But I'm telling you right now. One way or another I'm going to get out of here. See, I'm not done. People gotta know the truth Harley, the ugly truth. And I'm your fuse, my little bomb." Becoming more bold now, he'd lower his head so he was eye level with the shorter woman. A single finger pointing itself at her as he spoke. "See.. I get you. You get me. We're Gotham's lost souls. This.. this wasn't chance. Nonononono. Oh, we're going to have lots and lots of fun together. That's why..." And he would draw that card from her hip, being so bold as to slip into the side of that skirt and flirt with stroking at her hip more than he should. Flipping the image so that Joker was apparent. "..you keep my card. I'm gonna get you in the game sweet heart, so you can be conflicted all you want right now." Lightly brushing her lip with that card as he spoke, still dripping his voice with that thick coating of honey. "But when the times right, when I'm ready. I want you to be ready too. And I promise you, I'm going to show you what I showed Harvey. That Batman and the police and everyone else running around with their heads in the ground are the crazy ones. I'm sane. I'm more sane than every god damn one of them. Get me?"</font>
a/n; I am in love with this one, which is odd for me. His scar was giving me far too much trouble but I figured out this kind of blurring method. I suppose I could have kept Abbie Cornish in there, but that would have bothered me too much and Brittany is eternally my Harley. Um, lets see here, the snippet is from my storyline, yep. yep.
comments are love.