ONE-SHOT: Arthur is Gotham City High's most notorious loner, and you're the only student that's ever gotten remotely close to him. But while Arthur carries a torch for the most popular girl in school, you find yourself secretly crushing on him.

**A/N this is a whopping 7350 words long! It started out as just a random idea and then I got carried away. So I apologise if you find it too lengthy and boring, but I hope you like it ...btw, check out young Arthur in the cover picture. Ain't he cute!? **

--3rd person POV--

"You really should try and quit smoking, Art. You know how bad it is for your health."

(y/n) looked up at her companion, following the orange glow of the cigarette as Arthur brought it up to his mouth and took a generous puff on it.

"I find it comforting to think that it might kill me before anything else does." He deadpanned, no hint of jest in his somber tone.

She rolled her eyes, feeling more than just a little exasperated.
By nature he'd always had a rather cheery disposition, but over the course of these last few weeks she couldn't help but notice how he'd become more withdrawn, more broody.

Arthur Fleck certainly didn't have an easy life, that much was indisputable. His mom was a covert, passive-aggressive narcissist, and her boyfriend was a raging alcoholic with anger management issues.
His home life was one of timid, subservient, mere existence. He practically lived in his room, only ever venturing out when he had to go to school, or was sent on errands.

Or when he came out here, like now. To sit with her on the wrought iron steps of the fire escape outside his bedroom window.

How long had they been doing this?

Almost a year now.

Yes. A whole year of having to sneak around, because if his mother found out that he'd been meeting with a girl, friend or no friend, and neglecting his studies, she would be furious.

Penny Fleck was a strange creature, (y/n) thought. She'd never actually met the woman, but Arthur had given enough accounts of her bizzare behaviour for (y/n) to form quite a rounded opinion of her.

She was deplorable. Self-absorbed. Contradictory. Austere, and possibly just plain old fashioned crazy.

Ms.Fleck had to be crazy, to heartlessly pour scorn on her son's achievements like she did. Apparently she often told him that he'd never be academic, as he wasn't intelligent enough. Yet she encouraged him to work hard regardless, if he was to ever be as successful as Thomas Wayne; her employer.

She idolised the man and bored Arthur to tears with her endless tales about Thomas Wayne, the billionaire businessman philanthropist.
He was handsome, she said.
And clever.
And of course, filthy rich.
Whereas in her opinion, Arthur would never be any of those things.

The bizarre pressure she placed on Arthur's young shoulders was a burden he ought not to bear.

But bear it he did.

However, (y/n) couldn't help but wonder if something else was on her friends mind tonight. That something actually being a someone. And that someone could only be Shannon Clark.

"Come on, Art...cheer up. You can't keep mooning over Shannon like this. There's more to life than her."

His head snapped down sharply, making her shift uneasily as he impaled her with his piercing green eyes.

"I am not mooning. I'm not even thinking about her!"

"You totally are." She stood up, taking the cigarette from his hand so she could take a generous drag on it herself, as she contemplated the situation. "Even if she wasn't going to prom with Kevin, it's not as if you'd ask her....would you?"

Arthur shifted his weight from one foot to the other; his antsy demeanour displaying his unease and dislike for having to discuss such a sensitive subject.

"Of course not."

"Then why keep thinking about it? About her? Why d'you keep tormenting yourself like this?"

"I'm not thinking about her." He insisted, taking the cigarette she proffered to him. "I don't know why you think I am. You say I'm obsessed, but it looks to me like you're the one with the obsession."

Arthur's words stung. Like a knife that had cut a little too close to the bone for comfort.

(y/n) wasn't obsessed with Shannon Clark.
No. She was obsessed with Arthur himself, which meant that she secretly harboured a grudge against Gotham City High's most popular female student.

Everything about Shannon was boringly stereotypical. She was a walking, living, breathing cliché. She was a cheerleader, beauty pageant winner, homecoming queen, and had recently started dating Kevin Hudman; the schools resident jock, and head of the football team.

They were a match made in high school heaven.

Hell, to those like Arthur and herself.

God. It pained (y/n) to see Arthur pining after a girl who never gave him so much as a second glance; save for the times he got accosted in the hallway by a member of her clique. Then she would laugh cruelly at his expense.

(y/n) was in despair.
Shannon didn't deserve Arthur's heart. She didn't want it, but like a young fool in love he still yearned for her in spite of everything she did, and everything she was.

"Why would I be obsessed with Shannon fucking Clark. I can't stand her!" (y/n) grumbled, irritated by his blindness.

How could he be so blinkered? It was totally beyond all of her comprehension.

"I do have a life of my own, Art." She added, tersely. "I couldn't care less about Shannon and her cronies. I have other, more important stuff, on my mind."

"Oh yeah, like what?" He raised an inquisitive eyebrow in disbelief, a faint smile quirking his lips.

This was it. She had his attention now. All she had to do was play it cool, and not blow it.

"Well, prom obviously."

"Prom? You mean you actually want to go?" He sounded incredulous, which riled her a little.

"Yeah I do actually. I never said that I didn't. I think it could be fun. Don't you?"

Arthur shook his head, a disdainful look adorning his neat features. "I think I'd rather chew broken glass."

Ah. Okay. Well that was that then. With that short sentence all of (y/n)'s dreams were dashed. There was no hope of them going to prom together; not even just as friends.

"Who were you thinking of going with?" He asked as casually as he could, his interest having seemingly been piqued.

Her heart lifted cautiously. Perhaps if she just asked him herself, now, outright, then maybe there was a small chance he'd agree.

But the words got stuck in her throat. Fear trickled along her spine, turning her blood icy, making her shiver.

If he said no, then what?

Their little friendship could be ruined forever.
And she wasn't sure she could risk that. Having Arthur in her life just as a friend was enough. It should've been enough.
But still her traitorous heart whispered that it wanted more.

"I...uh, Josh." She mumbled, staring off into the middle distance. Suddenly she was finding it too difficult to meet his intrusive gaze.

"Joshua Stanzland?!" Arthur exclaimed. His voice had raised in pitch, making her jump slightly. "Are you...are you fucking kidding me? That asshole has actually asked you to be his date?"

"No. He hasn't." She said in a low voice. "I was thinking of asking him."

He remained silent for what felt the longest few moments of her life.

Had her proclamation shocked him? If it had, she wasn't entirely sure why.
She'd been hinting at her interest in Joshua for a while now. Even though it was all just a ruse. A dumb idea that had started off as a sort of defence mechanism. The entire school believed that she and Arthur were a thing, so out of embarrassment she'd pretended to have a crush on the local bad boy instead.

"So....you're gonna ask Joshua to go to the prom." He said at last, as he flicked his cigarette butt over the side of the steps. "That doesn't seem right. I mean, apart from him being a complete jackass, it's not exactly romantic is it? The girl asking the guy."

(y/n) observed him carefully as he stood with his back to her, arms crossed over his narrow chest, his trusty old navy sweater clinging lovingly across the sharp blades of his shoulders. He appeared to find the view of the alleyway below suddenly fascinating.

"Who needs romance." She scoffed, resting her knees on her elbows. "What's the worst that can happen? He can only say no."

"Won't you feel silly? If he says no. Won't it...won't it upset you?"

She simply shrugged in response.

Arthur's jaw visibly tightened, and he sucked in his cheeks, as though trying to calm himself down. "I didn't realise you liked him that much."

"He's cool. I dunno, there's just something about him. All the girls love a bad boy, Art."

Now it was Arthur's turn to scoff.
Bad boy was putting it mildly. Joshua Stanzland was your typical rebel without a cause.
He was forever in trouble; getting into fights and causing disruptions in class.
The leather jacket wearing, black haired boy spent more time in the principles office than he did in the classroom.

"Oh please. I didn't think you of all people (y/n) would fall for all that James Dean bullshit he tries to pull off. It's such a cliché."

"Really, Art? You wanna talk about clichés? You enormous fucking hypocrite! You spend all day drooling over the homecoming queen!" She broke off into brittle laughter, and immediately tried to stifle it. Not wanting Arthur's parents to overhear.

Arthur blanched, his brow forging into a deep scowl. His expression grew dark. It made his eyes look hard and angry. It was unsettling. Out of character. And alarmingly sexy.

"I wouldn't ever ask Shannon out on a date. I don't want to. And I wouldn't humiliate myself like that. Come on, (y/n), you know how it works. The Shannon's and Joshua's aren't for the likes of us."

The likes of us.

The words resounded in her head, stirring up memories from their very first meeting...

(y/n) had come to Gotham City High after having been homeschooled all her life.
Her parents, in all their infinite wisdom, had decided that she needed more social interaction with her peers, as they'd begun to fear that their daughter was in danger of becoming socially awkward.

It was too late of course. She already kind of was socially awkward by then. So being sent to school felt more like a punishment, than them being concerned for her.

At first the other students had been naturally curious upon her arrival.
They'd asked her many questions, set about teasing her, or trying to hit on her.
She hadn't known what to do or how to respond.
The noise, the crowds, all the attention had been overwhelming.

And then she'd spotted a whippet-thin boy who dressed far older than his age. He had a mop of unruly brown curls, which flopped over his face as he was remorselessly shoved over in front of the lockers; face-planting the ground with an undignified thud.

"Who's that?" She had enquired with a flinch, instinctively feeling a strong pang of sympathy for whoever he was.

Stephanie Brown, one of Shannon's cronies had laughed in response, turning away disinterestedly. "Oh him. He's a nobody. Seriously (y/n) the guy's a complete retard. He has this weird condition that makes him laugh whenever he gets anxious. Can you believe that? Total freak of nature. He should've been drowned at birth, you know like how they do with puppies that are runts."

The girl's vile words and the laughter that ensued made (y/n) feel angry, and almost physically sick.

Was this how high school was? Nothing could have prepared her for such a shock. The startling reality making her feel numb to the bone.

As he'd gathered up the books that had spilled out onto the floor, hastily stuffing them back into his rucksack, (y/n), ever perceptive, spotted one that he'd missed.

Casually as possible she'd swooped down and picked it up, tucking it into her own backpack.
He'd already vanished from the hall without a trace, but she figured she'd run into him again sooner or later. He seemed vaguely familiar. He was in her English class she was sure.

That lunchtime she'd slipped away, needing to decompress and regather her thoughts.
It was all making her a bit overwrought.
The other kids were cruel, judgmental, competitive, and bitchy.
And by god she hated it.
She desperately needed to find some place quiet.
Somewhere to hide out for a while.

Naturally she'd headed for the bleachers.
But when she got there she came to realise she wasn't the only one seeking refuge under them.

The boy. The one who had been knocked down in the hallway, was there. Sitting in the shade, his bloodied nose buried in a book.

"Oh. Hey." She gave him a friendly smile. "You okay?"

Two large green eyes stared at her in languid interest.
He looked at her as though she were a different species. Like he'd never even seen a girl before in his life, let alone talked to one.

"H-hey." He stammered in return, clutching the large book to his chest defensively. As if it would provide him with protection should he need it. "Yeah I'm...I'm okay."

He put her in mind of a startled deer. A fawn actually, as he was oddly cute, lithe, and all spindle-limbed.

"Looks like we had the same idea, huh."

(y/n) felt stupid the moment the words left her mouth. Talk about pointing out the blindingly obvious. He must think her a compete idiot.

"I always come here." He told her in his low, rough voice.

"To get away from the assholes who pushed you over I presume. Can't say I blame you."

"They're all assholes." He mused, scathingly. "There's not one of them worth talking to. And if...if any of them see you talking to me..." Nervously he reached up, rubbing the back of his neck with a large hand. "Well...let's just say it's social suicide."

She arched her neat eyebrow at him in amusement. "Wow. Sounds...dramatic."

At that he had chuckled, mildly bemused by her observation. "That's basically what high school is all about, the drama."

"Sounds kinda boring and idiotic to me."

He shook his head, smiling faintly. "You can't say that, you'll never fit in with that sort of attitude. If you want to hang out with the cool kids you've got to be like them and think like they do. Otherwise you'll be a social outcast. An outsider, like me."

"Well maybe I don't want to fit in." (y/n) had stunned him by saying. "If being accepted by the popular crowd means I've got to go along with their stupidity, their bullying, then I'd rather be a social outcast."

Approaching him slowly, she'd then flopped down onto  the grass, sitting cross legged beside him. "I'm (y/n) by the way. And if I'm going to hang out with the outsider then I'd better know his name...?"

His large green eyes widened in surprise, and as she held his gaze she'd been mesmerised by the sparkling green orbs that stared back at her disbelievingly. As if he wasn't entirely convinced of her existence.

They were the most beautiful eyes she'd ever seen.

"I-I'm Arthur." He stuttered nervously. "Arthur Fleck."

From then on (y/n) had indeed been shunned by the majority of her peers for her having dared befriend the class retard.
The outsider.
The loner.
Except...he wasn't alone anymore.

And whilst being Arthur's friend came at a cost; having then left herself wide open to become the target of their ridicule, she didn't regret the choice she had made.
Nothing could induce her to break her friendship with Arthur.
Nothing in the world. She loyally stood by him, through thick and thin.

He was quiet, shy, and odd, but he was also funny, kind, and surprisingly sweet.
All in all he had turned out to be the best friend she'd always dreamed of having.
They had quite a lot in common, and in private he was like a whole different character.

She loved music, and Arthur had music in his very bones. He'd dance and sing along to any song, and sometimes even dance when there wasn't any music playing.
He had natural rhythm and a flair for showmanship; often performing little magic shows for her, miming animatedly to songs on the radio, and showing her card tricks.

In their social banishment they shared a mutual disdain for their fellow students, which bordered on contempt. Lunchtimes and recess were spent under the bleachers, laughing over the idiocy of their peers and the pointless, petty drama they created.

Then things began to change. Around six months ago in fact.
(y/n) had found herself wanting to spend more and more time with her friend.
Naturally she enjoyed his company, but there was something more to it than that.
It had only really become apparent when she'd found herself feeling increasingly jealous over Shannon Clark. An irrational jealousy that embittered her, and fuelled her resentment.

That first day beneath the bleachers (y/n) had given Arthur his book back. He'd been so relieved and thankful she was worried that he was going to cry.

Of course she had no way of knowing that Arthur was immensely relieved not just simply because he thought he'd lost his journal, but because if the book had fallen into the hands of anybody else, he'd have been taunted and ridiculed beyond the limits of his endurance.

Unbeknownst to Arthur though, (y/n) had skimmed through a couple of the pages, drawn by her own nagging curiosity.
It seemed to be a diary, in which Arthur wrote all of his thoughts.
His most secret thoughts. Dark thoughts.
Thoughts about how much he loathed the bullies in school, and his mom's boyfriend. Thoughts about throwing himself down the fire escape in the hopes of then not being able to partake in sports at school, or off the roof of the building where he lived, to put an end to his miserable existence.
Thoughts about enacting grisly revenge on his tormentors, regardless of the consequences he'd have to face.

But between the lines, the barely intelligible scribblings of a brooding, teenage loner, was a passage dedicated to his secret love for Shannon Clark, of all people.

Oh how Arthur hated himself for being attracted to the girl.
He had always told himself he would never desire a high-class, spoiled prima-donna. He'd told himself that everything about girls like her, disgusted him.
Apparently he'd been telling himself lies.

At first (y/n) kept silent, not wanting to pass comment on it. After all, it wasn't her place to remark on who Arthur was crushing on, and in the early days she didn't know him well enough, so didn't want to make him feel uncomfortable.
It wasn't the sort of thing you could just drop into the conversation, and besides, Arthur didn't have to justify himself, or his reasons, to her.

But as time passed by and Shannon became more and more unbearable; her behaviour towards Arthur in particular, appalling, (y/n) found she could no longer be silent on the subject.

"You like her don't you?" She'd blurted out one day, sounding more accusatory than she'd intended. "She's so mean to you, Art. How could you like someone like that?"

Arthur had blushed furiously as his hands absently tugged handfuls of grass out of the unspoiled soil where he sat.

"I don't know." He replied, somewhat sheepishly. "When I was transferred here from Gotham Heights High school, she was the first real girl I ever saw who I thought was pretty."

"Real girl?"

"Yeah you know, like real life, not on TV, or something like that." He gave a lazy shrug of his shoulders." I didn't want to like her. But you can't choose who you're attracted to."

He was right about that. (y/n) was painfully aware of that fact, once she started developing feelings for the lovable little oddity that was her best friend.

What made matters worse was the rumours that circulated the school. Rumours of Arthur and (y/n) being a couple, and crass insinuations of what they got up to, which all started when Dale Campbell ran into the two of them at a convenience store in Gotham Heights one evening, while they were buying cherry slushies.

It had been the first time (y/n) had succeeded in cajoling Arthur into hanging out somewhere other than his fire escape. He'd been a nervous wreck the entire time, but had admittedly enjoyed the freedom nonetheless.
That was until Blake had put in an appearance, and the repercussions that followed had been haunting them ever since.

"I sure hope they use a rubber when they get it on. Could you imagine what their kid would be like? Ugh. An ugly little freak."

That had come from Shannon herself, which proved to be the final straw for (y/n).
She'd retaliated, and the slanging match had escalated into a full-on bitch fight.
Regrettably it hadn't lasted long, as a teacher had intervened, but (y/n) still gleaned a modicum of satisfaction from having pulled a handful of golden blond hairs from the annoyingly beautiful head of her arch nemesis.

Arthur hadn't really passed any remark on the incident, other than to say (y/n) shouldn't have let Sharon's jibes bother her. It was still pretty fresh, having only happened a few days ago, but (y/n) was still silently seething.

How could he still like Shannon Clark even now? The rumours and shocking things that had been said about herself and Arthur, mortified him, so he should dislike Shannon for pouring fuel on the fire, not keep lusting after her.

And the way (y/n) saw it was....if people were going to talk shit about them regardless, then why not give them something to actually talk about.
With that logic, it gave her the perfect cover to ask Arthur to be her prom date.
But here she was, claiming she wanted to go with someone else, just to save face being as Arthur was still head over heels for Shannon.

"So if the Shannon's and Joshua's aren't for the likes of us....then who is?" She levelled at him now.

Arthur shot her a look of bewilderment, as he leaned against the iron railings. "I...I don't know. You'd get a boyfriend easy, or at least you could...if you stopped hanging out with me."

"Art, I'd never ditch you for some guy. Friends don't do that. Anyway, what about you?"

"Me?"

"Yeah. For all you know there's a girl right now, dreaming of you at night. Wishing you were hers."

"I highly doubt it." He shook his head resolutely. "I think I'm better off alone anyway. I'm a freak."

"Arthur Fleck, don't you ever say that. You are not a freak, or a retard. Why would you listen to them? And you're not alone. You'll always have me, Art."

His sad eyes met hers momentarily, but then he quickly looked away. "Thanks (y/n). That...that means a lot to me. But you know what I mean, I'll never get a girl."

Right just do it. Do it now. Ask him! She internally screamed at herself.

His self-esteem was at an all time low. If it sunk any lower it would be subterranean.
Here was her chance to make him feel good about himself. To prove him wrong, to show him he was deserving of love and affection.

But her palms were clammy, and her throat grew so tight she thought she might choke.

"Ugggghhh." She made a half-groan, half-growling sound out of sheer frustration, which was enough to gain Arthur's immediate attention.

"You okay?" He asked, looking at her worriedly. His handsome face etched with genuine concern.

"Oh uh, y-yeah...I've just got a bit of a headache that's all." She faked a smile and rubbed her temples with her fingertips, in an effort to look convincing.

"You don't usually make noises like that when you have a headache. It must be pretty bad, huh. D'you wanna step inside and I can get you an aspirin?"

She blinked in surprise.
She'd been visiting Arthur like this at home for months now, which was no small deal considering he lived downtown in Gotham Heights, so she had to take the bus from the upper east-side of Bedford Park where she lived.
And never once in all that time had he invited her in. She figured he was too ashamed of his mom and her boyfriend, and afraid of them getting mad at him.

She herself would've invited him to her place, but he wouldn't go out, and even if he did there was no way she'd be allowed to have him up to her room.

"Are you sure? I wouldn't want to cause you any trouble."

"It's no trouble." He insisted. "I don't want you being in any pain."

Failing to deter him, (y/n) had no choice other than to climb in through the old sash window, feeling wretched about having lied to him.

Mentally reprimanding herself, she sat on the edge of his narrow, rickety bed while he went to fetch a glass of water and some aspirins.

"Here you go. I get headaches a lot, so they didn't suspect anything."

She watched him intently as he popped two of the pills out from the little plastic bottle, and held them out to her.

Damn he was so fucking precious, she wanted nothing more than to grab him by the front of his sweater and pull him in for a kiss.

But she didn't, obviously.

"Thanks, Art." She smiled, before throwing the pills to the back of her throat and swallowing.

Art.

That was so befitting. He was art personified.
She had nicknamed him Art because that is exactly what he put her in mind of; a work of Art.

His hair was always in disarray but that just added to his abstract beauty.
His dark curls were the colour of chocolate, and his eyelashes were scandalously long for a guy. They framed his gorgeous jade eyes perfectly; emphasising how vivid and striking they were. His face was sculpted and angular, with sharp cheekbones and a jawline you could cut diamonds with.

He was her work of art, and unlike he himself who preferred to admire his crush secretly from afar, she on the other hand ached with the need to tell him.
Tell him just how much he meant to her, and how beautiful he was.
The sort of beauty the likes of which Shannon Clark didn't deserve, not in this lifetime or any other. She would never be worthy enough for him.

"What?" He asked, suddenly shattering her thoughts and pulling her focus back. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

To her horror she realised she'd been openly staring at him. So transfixed by his kind, handsome face.

"Art."

"Yeah?"

(y/n) swallowed hard and took a deep breath. "Will you go to prom with me?"

Arthur's thick brows shot upwards, almost reaching his hairline. "W-what?"

"Will you be my date for the prom." She clarified, just to ensure he didn't misunderstand her somehow.

His large eyes stared at her in astonishment, wide and unblinking. "B-but (y/n) if we went to prom together, t-that would just make everything worse. The gossip. The rumours--"

"I don't care about any of that. Fuck them, let them gossip! In fact..."
Boldly she moved towards him with growing conviction, and placed her hands on his shoulders. "...have you ever thought...all that stuff they say about us...we may as well just....do it?"

The hard set of Arthur's shoulders tensed beneath her touch, making him feel like a statue carved from granite.

"(y-y/n)! Wha-- what are you saying?"

"I'm saying why don't we just do what they say we do. We've got nothing to lose. And...and we're both still virgins, right?"

Arthur didn't answer. He was incapable of speech, and she could feel him trembling.

"I figure it'd be safe, our first time being with each other." She pressed on, ignoring the heat that flooded her face.

"First time?" He echoed, sounding utterly stricken. His usually pale pallor was now blotched with pink, evident to his embarrassment. "Why would you want to do that...with me?"

Before she could stop him, he pulled free of her embrace.

"Why? Because I want to, Art. Because I trust you. There isn't anyone else I would rather do it with."

"W-why are you saying this? You literally just told me you want to go to prom with that piece of shit, Joshua Stanzland."

"I...I didn't mean it." She confessed, her heart wrenching in on itself painfully. "I didn't know what else to say."

"That makes no sense! You're just...I don't know, saying hey lets have sex because...? I don't know why. Is it because you feel sorry for me? Or just to make some stupid point to those fucking jerks at school? No. No (y/n) I'm not going to sleep with you for some dumb reason. I don't want to do that."

She leaped to her feet. Frustration, anger, and plain old hurt prompting her to action. She'd never felt so humiliated. So ashamed. She was deeply ashamed of herself.
What had come over her?
She didn't know but it was by far the worse thing that had ever happened to her.
Arthur looked furious. She had never seen him look so angry.

Was she going to lose him now?
It certainly looked like it.

"I'm sorry." She choked the words out. "I shouldn't have said anything. I'm an idiot. Just forget I said any of it, please."

"How can I just forget it (y/n)? Wait! Where are you going?"

She'd made her way back to the window, ignoring Arthur's pleas for her to stay.
The sound of her own heart pounding in her ears was deafening.
Her pulse was racing and she felt a little lightheaded.
She just had to escape. To be away from him, and as far away from this mess as possible.

"I need to go, Arthur. I should've known better. I know you're in love with Shannon, or at least you believe you are, but the difference is....I actually want you!"

"H-have you been reading my journal?" He demanded, his voice quivering. "Did you read it when I was out of the room?"

"I haven't touched your journal!"

Shakily she climbed out of the window and descended the staircase as quickly as her wobbly legs could carry her.

Above she heard Arthur calling out her name, urging her to come back.
The sound of his voice, all desperate and frantic, made her heart shatter.
But she didn't go back.

She couldn't go back...

>>--------------------------------------<<

The following morning, (y/n) lay tucked beneath her comforter; it's warmth soothing and safely comforting, like a cocoon.

She had faked being sick, unwilling to face Arthur after the events of the previous night, and somehow by some miracle, her parents had believed her and let her stay home.

It wasn't by any means a long-term solution.
Indeed, a part of her wanted to talk to him, to try and repair the tattered remains of their friendship.
But she wasn't feeling brave enough to face him. She was genuinely afraid that her rash actions and uncharacteristic behaviour had altered their friendship forever.

Like Arthur had said, how could he just forget?

At around midday (y/n) heard a knock at the front door, which was enough to lure her from her bed. Her mom often ordered things, so she wondered if it was a package being delivered.

Opening the window she leaned out, straining to see.

"Hello?" She called, squinting slightly due to the blinding sunlight.

A slender figure stepped back from the porch; one large hand raised to shield his eyes as he cast his emerald gaze upwards.

Was it?
It couldn't be.
It was!

"A-Arthur." She stammered, not even bothering to hide her surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"You didn't come to school. I was worried about you." He replied.

Holy shit. It wasn't like Arthur to ditch school. She never knew he had it in him.

"I'm sick, that's all."

"(y/n)."

"What, Arthur?"

He kicked at the ground awkwardly with the toe of his scuffed shoe. "Can I come in?"

Her stomach churned so violently she actually began to feel nauseas. "I'm sick, Art. It might be contagious."

"Okay, well I'm willing to risk it. Please (y/n). I promise I won't stay long."

Heaving a sigh of defeat, she nodded her head grudgingly. "Fine. There's a key under the mat. Come on up, if you must."

Hastily she checked her reflection in the mirror, then immediately wished that she hadn't. Her eyes were still swollen and red-rimmed from crying, her hair a tangled mess.

She just had time to drag a hairbrush through her knotted (h/c) tresses, when she heard Arthur's footsteps out on the landing.

"In here." (y/n) called to him, already feeling flustered that she was dressed so shabbily.

The door opened and Arthur's face peered round it cautiously. Almost immediately his eyes settled on her, and his face turned dusky.

"O-oh I didn't...I didn't know you wasn't d-dressed."

Unable to keep from giggling in spite of the awkwardness, she raised the hem of her oversized shirt, flashing the small pair of shorts she was wearing.

"Relax, Art. I'm not pantless, see?"

He gave a nervous chuckle as he stepped in, visibly relaxing. "Ah, right. Sorry I just thought--"

"You just thought what? That I'd try to seduce you or something?" She joked, clumsily.

He didn't respond at first, just looked contemplative, as a charged silence held them in it's grip.

"I didn't think that, I'm not that lucky. It would be pretty fantastic if you did though." He said finally, his voice sounding rougher than usual.

She stared at him, taken aback. "Art!"

"What? (y/n) you're beautiful...any guy would be lucky to have you, let's face it."

"Yeah? Well obviously not, given your reaction last night. Which by the way, I'd rather we just forget. If we can."

Feeling suddenly in need of some comfort, she made a dive for her bed; propping herself up against the headboard, she pulled the comforter so high up that it almost reached her chin.

If they were doing this; discussing what she'd said to him last night, then she needed somewhere to hide.

"I...I didn't know what to think." Arthur raked his hands through his hair, then plopped himself down on the end of her bed. "It freaked me out 'cause it was so unexpected."

Okay. So they were doing this. Talking it over.

Well, better to bite the bullet and face the music...

"Arthur...all I can say is that I'm sorry. I don't know what happened, it's like I just couldn't keep it inside anymore." She drew in a deep, calming breath. "I shouldn't have blurted it out like that. I shouldn't have said anything at all."

"No, I'm glad you did..." He cleared his throat, softly. "I don't want you to think I didn't want to...you know. I was just afraid that you were feeling sorry for me, because I'd said that I'd never get a girl."

"I would never say something like that out of pity, Art. I genuinely like you a lot, dummy!"

"Yeah I kinda figured that when you said you wanted me. But then you left."

Her cheeks flamed, and she pulled the comforter higher so that it covered her mouth. Meaning that her next words came out muffled.

"I wish I hadn't said anything. I know you have a crush on Shannon. I was being stupid and..."

She trailed off as he slowly reached into his back pocket and pulled out his rolled-up journal.

(y/n) watched with keen interest as he flicked through the pages, until he finally found what he was looking for.

"Here. I guess you'd better see this."

Arthur fought to steady his breathing as she leaned forwards and took hold of the book.

It was all in there.
His thoughts and feelings documented since the first day she had come to Gotham City High.

The embarrassment was crippling, but he could think of no better way to prove to her how he felt, and had felt, since the day they met.

Shannon Clark couldn't hold a candle to (y/n).
Shannon's beauty paled in comparison, and her cruelness was even further exemplified by (y/n)'s kindness.

Arthur no longer cared one bit for Shanon Clark, and hadn't cared for a very long time indeed.

He had been infatuated with her, but he was in love with (y/n).
It was stated in black ink on each page he'd written for the past year.
It was all there.
His admiration, his gratitude, even his lust, but most importantly...his love.

(y/n) sat stunned as she read through each page; a sputtering, shocked, emotional mess of a young woman, deciphering the scribbled handwriting of her beloved friend, and crush.

Arthur grew more and more anxious as the minutes ticked by without her saying a word. His leg shook as he tapped his foot on the floor; unable to be still.

"P-please don't think it's creepy." He mumbled, his chin sinking into his chest. "I-I mean, I know I'm weird, but I wasn't writing all that stuff cause I'm a creep. I just needed to get it out of my head, and I didn't want to tell you because I didn't think you'd ever feel the same way as I do."

"I don't think you're a creep, Art." She managed, with some effort.

Tears were pooling in her (e/c) eyes, and the hard rush of emotion caused her chest to tighten, making it difficult to breath, let alone speak.

"You don't?" He turned to meet her eyes, feeling the usual flutter in his stomach.

The flutter he'd first found so very ominous, but had learned to live with.
And as she held his gaze, the fluttering increased, becoming heated, and he didn't dislike it.

At first he'd been afraid. Afraid or a feeling he didn't understand and couldn't control.
But then he'd come to realise that it was real love he was feeling, and this was how love worked, so he just had to deal with it, regardless of how it made him feel.

"No, I'd never think you were a creep." (y/n) smiled, turning the book so he could see a specific paragraph she was pointing to. "Even though you were planning on stabbing Josh with a pair of fabric scissors!"

Wincing, Arthur let out a forced laugh. "I...I wouldn't have really. It just made me mad, thinking that you wanted him."

She scooted forwards and playfully thumped him on the arm. "How the hell did you think I felt? I thought you wanted Shannon!"

"Ow!" He rubbed the spot where she'd scarcely touched him. "I kept telling you I wasn't thinking about her, but you wouldn't listen!"

He grasped a pillow and gently bopped her on the head with it. She retaliated by lunging at him; her fingers working their way to his sides, where she knew he was most ticklish.

For a moment they engaged in their childlike playfigjting, laughing as they tumbled around on the bed.

Then Arthur found himself above her, and their laughter dissipated. The innocent playfulness having now been replaced by something far more intimate, and intense.

"Will you be my date for the prom, (y/n)?" He asked, breathless as he gazed adoringly into her eyes.

She could feel the warm kiss of his breath against her face, he was so close. Her heart was thumping away frantically in her chest, at the sensation of his slim body pressing hers into the soft mattress beneath her.

"O-of course I will, Art. I was the one who asked you, remember!"

"I know. But I also said it isn't very romantic...the girl asking the guy."

"Hm, I never knew you were a romantic at heart. No wonder that rumour about us getting it on in the toilets bothered you so much." She giggled. "And there was me thinking the gossip only bothered you because you didn't feel that way about me."

Arthur scrunched his face in mock disgust, which made her laugh harder.

"I was embarrassed for you more than anything. I thought the idea of us, you know, would repulse you."

"You dumbass, Art. It didn't repulse me. Except maybe the thought of doing it in the toilets, ew. As if. They're disgusting."

He threw his head back and laughed, then his eyes became hooded; filled with fire and passion, as he noted the convenient position they were in, as well as the comfortable surroundings.

"You know...being in a cozy bed, and having the entire place to ourselves with nobody home to hear or interrupt....is pretty romantic."

He had to say it. Who knew when such a gloriously perfect opportunity would arrive again.

Registering his meaning, (y/n) gasped softly, but managed to nod in response.

"That is....if you're not feeling too sick." He added with a wicked grin.

(y/n) frowned, but still smiled at him like a smitten idiot. "Art, you know damn well that I'm not really sick."

"True. I knew you were hiding from me. Which is why I had to come, and I'm glad I did."

"I'm glad you did too."

And then suddenly it was happening.

Arthur Fleck; the love of her life, pressed his lips to hers, and her heart almost burst through her chest at the indescribable feelings he evoked, as they shared their first wonderful kiss.

"Love me, Arthur..." She breathed against his lips, her entire body trembling due to the burning ache, the desperate need, to have him closer still. "...show me how it feels to be loved."

"I do love you (y/n)." He groaned, burying his face against her shoulder. "Shit. I want you. I want to show you just how much I love you."

"Then what are we waiting for? Arthur, I love you so much."

Later that night at home, when Arthur sat down to write in his journal, he wouldn't write about the way her small, delicate hands had pushed into his hair, and tugged at his sweater; pulling it over his head, impatient to feel his body.

Nor would he write of how he'd showered her with gentle kisses, his own hands sliding beneath her baggy shirt, and the way he had fumbled to hook his thumbs into the waistband of her shorts...

No. It was too personal. Too delicious, and he didn't want those thoughts out of his head. He was more than happy to keep them there, where he could cherish them forever.

Instead he simply wrote....

I'm not a freak. I'm not a retard.
I'm not dumb, I'm not alone, and I'm not a virgin anymore!
I am beautiful, the girl I love told me so.
I am special.
And I am loved

End