38 | crazed

(adj) having or showing a very abnormal or sick state of mind

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                    I twirled around, standing in front of the mirror and checked myself. I was nervous, my hands were shaking a little and my stomach was tied up in knots.

Will he like this?

I looked at my up-do, checking for any fallen out hair for the thousandth time. I glanced at the clock, butterflies erupting in my stomach. It has been exactly one hour since he left the bedroom. He must probably be waiting down there now. I should leave and not make him annoyed again.

I gave myself a small smile and an invisible pat in the back before walking out, along the corridor, I could feel the stares of the men guarding each level, and I realised that there was a staircase leading down to the dining room.

How I knew where exactly the dining room was?

The aroma.

It was intoxicating. I grabbed the rail on my side and admired the dining room, as my eyes went wide, it was beautiful and gigantic, filled with blue lights everywhere. It contrasted against my red dress. My eyes went down and it met with a pair of icy blue eyes that sent jolts of electricity through me.

I inhaled a sharp breath.

He was staring at me, like he was going to devour me and I shuddered. The last kiss we had shared in his office was so intoxicating that I would make him angry again and again, just to make him kiss me like that. I enjoyed every moment of it. I walked down the stairs, never breaking eye contact from him and he stood up, walking to the edge of the staircase, waiting for me.

I smiled at how much of a gentleman he is, inside all that hardcore serial killer-ness. Reaching the last two steps, I decided that I was going to play hard to get tonight because his eyes were filled with desire and I really wanted to tease him.

He looked so vulnerable for a second, and I found it suddenly sexy on him. But, it went away as quickly as it came.

He held out his hand for me and I smiled, placing my hand on his. He had changed his tux, it was black and red. The red, the same shade as mine.

We matched and I almost squealed like a high-school girl at the thought of that. This felt way too much like a date but I wasn't against it. I feel his eyes scan over my body and I shivered at the intensity of it.

"Tonight is going to be fun." He said, stroking my hand and led me to the other end of the long dining table, pulled the chair out for me and made me sit down. I almost giggled at his gentleman-ness but enjoyed it nonetheless.

His voice is warm and rich; my heart beats faster than it's design specs should allow.

"Someone is being such a gentleman for me." I said, stressing the word me, a glint of teasing in my tone and I bit my lip to control my chuckle as I could see his body visibly tensing but he was controlling it.

He bent down so that his eyes were in level with mine as he looked at me, his face void of emotion and I narrowed my eyes.

"Its hard not to when there is a beautiful woman right in front of me." He said, taking me aback, his voice impossibly low and erotic and I bit my lip, he purred, staring at my lips.

"Don't do that." He groaned. "It makes me want to touch them with my own."

My mind immediately flashbacked to our first session back in Arkham, where he had said the exact same line to me.

Things have changed so much since then.

If someone had told me back then that I would be sitting in The Joker's house having a fancy dinner with him, they would be my next patient.

But, here I am!

How can he possibly not have developed feelings for me? So much had happened between us.

Does he really not see me more than his personal psychiatrist?

I looked at his eyes deeply and knew that he was thinking of our past too. I felt his breathing go erratic for a second before he stood up sharply and walked to the chair on the other end of the dining table.

He definitely has something for me, or I would have been killed by him right now but I am still alive and breathing.

And annoying him too.

And everyone who lives in Gotham knows that the Joker is not someone to mess with and I am definitely messing with him and his crazy little mind.

I am definitely special to him.

"Eat." He said, breaking my thoughts, and I looked down at my plate of food, it was steak and pasta. My stomach rumbled and this time I was sure he didn't hear it because he was too far away.

Tasty.

I started eating and glanced up to see him not eating, his plate untouched. "Why aren't you eating?"

"You are the one who is ...hungry, not me." He said, pushing the plate infront of him away and placed his hands on the table, tapping a rhythm with the tip of his fingers. Something he would unconsciously do during our sessions, when he is waiting for something.

Is he waiting for me to finish eating? Silence filled the air, and I could feel the tension, the jolts of electricity in the air surrounding us and I was sure he could feel it too.

"What's the surprise?" I asked, gulping down the steak, feeling satisfied as my flames of hunger slowly died down. I grabbed the glass of cold water and drank it, finally feeling fully satisfied.

He stood up at my question and he glanced down at my plate, to see if I had eaten fully. I found that cute, like he was taking care of me.

He walked over, grabbing a newspaper from the chair beside him and came behind me. I stiffened. Pushing the plate in front of me away, he placed the newspaper infront of me. Placing his hand on my shoulders, I could feel his warm breath in my ears, causing tingles all over my body.

"Read it." He said, barely above a whisper.

I glanced over at the article and scanned the front page quickly, a picture of the Arkham Asylum in it. Reading the article I realised that a grand funeral was being held in Gotham for all those staff who had died during the massacre.

I felt a twitch of guilt inside my stomach but I suppressed it.

"A funeral?" He asked me, his tone having a teasing glint. I realised in that moment that this was another test. Another test, another trial, where I prove to my love for him again. My loyalty. My honesty.

"Funerals are boring, right Dr. Quinzel?" He slurred my name, mocking it, his lips brushing my ear, making me shiver. His hands squeezed my shoulders, making my heart race.

"Let's put the fun in funeral then Mr. J." I said, surprising him as he came in front of me and smiled, a wide grin, and I knew he wasn't expecting me to respond like that.

He was expecting me to back out, his icy blue eyes shined of amusement and surprise.

"You never cease to amaze me."

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Hola!

Double update! (:

What do you think they should do in the funeral? You can suggest and maybe I will add them to the story.

Comment, vote and share.