3. I Wanna Be Free~
~I Wanna Be Free, I Wanna Be Loved
I Wanna Be More Than You're Thinking Of
Everything Seems To Be Estranged When You’re Alone...
One Day I'll Stop Keeping Track
And Give Myself Time To React
-Panic! at the Disco (I Wanna Be Free)
The doe-eyed child stared, slack-jawed, back at me.
I wondered idly what she would look like with white face paint over her porcelain face, a diamond pattern decorating her attire that, naturally, clung to her perfect skin.
I sit back in my chair and tap my toe, feigning impatience.
"I'm a-waiting doll-face." I arch my eyebrow again, letting my eyes turn dark and cold. I was tired of this game already. I only put the effort into warmth because she was pleasing me with her wonderful naivety. But now, I shook my head internally. This may not be worth the effort after all.
"Mister Joker, my name is Doctor H. Quinzel. I am here to help you," she sauntered over to the table and slammed her hands down on the table.
Ooh, kitty got claws.
“And it would be a helluva lot easier without your incessant toe-tapping!" I looked down from her icy blue stare and to my lap, I internally shook myself, I had stopped tapping my toe.
Looking up at the doctor through my eyelashes, I grinned. Seems like this was going to be fun after all. I sighed and then looked her full on.
"Listen sweet-um-" I waved my hand at her.
"Doctor Quinzel." She insisted.
"Doll-face-" I cocked my head to the side.
"Doctor Harley Quinzel." I coughed suddenly on my own saliva. That name. Why did I know it? It wasn't until she had put it like that, that I had remembered the spark.
I smirked, trying to forget the little match that was burning in the back of my mind. Something told me that I didn't really want to remember.
"Harley Davidson." I leaned back in my chair tipping in onto two legs, kicked my feet up, and grinned.
The movement surprised her and she stood up and glared at me. This Harlequin, was very good. Bratty, but mostly hilarious. I just grinned and laughed.
"You find me funny, Mister Joker?" She growled- or at least tried to growl, at me.
"Actually, little Harlequin-"
"For fucks sake, Mister Joker!" My green eyes widened. Oh my God, did this little innocent child just swear at me?
I leaned my chair foreword, the feet slamming onto the tile.
"Well, little Hateful-Quin, if you would let me finish one Goddamn sentence, then maybe we would be getting somewhere past the introductions." I quipped at her, rising from my seat. I easily cleared her head by more than half of a foot.
I tasted the metallic pang of adrenaline in the back of my throat, and my heart began to race wildly against the confines of my ribcage.
What was this little Gotham City siren doing to me?
"Fine. Please, go on." She crossed her arms at me and started to tap her own toe.
What a little minx!
"First things first, then, Har-ley.” I sat back in my chair and pointed at myself. “Don't you think 'Mister Joker' is too serious of a name for me? I mean, look at me!" I gestured my hands from my face, which was slathered in face paint, then slowly down my slender form, clad in a purple with yellow pinstripe suit, orange vest and light gray dress shirt.
"And secondly, I do love your name! It makes me smile and leads me to think... Sidekick." My lips twitched involuntarily at the corners at her disapproving look.
She rolled her eyes at me. "Alright then, what would you like me to call you? Because I obviously can't make you call me Doctor Quinzel." She smirked at me with false exasperation, I could see it in her swimming-blue eyes that she liked this game as much as I did.
“Why don't you tag me with a name that you actually like? Hmm? I've chosen you as my Harlequin, so what am I to you, Doc?" She bristled at that.
I had to try very hard to stifle the giggle that threatened to bubble from my lips, “I'm sorry, did I hit a nerve?”
"Mistah J. You are nothin' to me. You are, at the highest point, just a patient. Nothin' more." She turned away from me and deliciously swung her hips as she sauntered away towards the door.
"Awh, and I thought we were getting somewhere. Where ya goin' little Doc?" I got up from my chair and slid to sit Indian-style on top of the table. She turned back to me with fire in her eyes.
Something deep in those eyes I recognized. And her being mad at me, only made the little spark grow larger, into a fire. It then became deliciously uncontrollable as it made scorched pathways through my mind, intent on making a connection with the past.
That little voice in my head began to scream louder: Forget!
Harley stomped her way back to me and poked her finger to my chest.
"Let me clarify some things Mister J,” She jabbed her index finger into my chest,
“Number one: I'm not 'your' anything, you do not hold any part of me." She now added her middle finger alongside the index,
"Number two: we are not friends."
"Number three: I am your therapist. You will treat me with the respect that I deserve."
"And number four: You think you got all the power, don't you? Well news flash buddy. You don't.” She flattened out her palm to my chest and shoved me. Although, before she stepped away, she allowed her palm to rest against my chest- directly over my heart, for a moment. And it was only for a second that her clear half-lidded gaze met my wide-eyed expression, but it threatened to paralyze me forever.
She took her palm off my chest and walked away from me again.
Then, my racing heart felt like it stopped altogether.
I saw the reflection of something in the two-sided mirror as the doctor, my little Harlequin, left. It was something that I haven't seen on a woman for more than ten years. It was a rose-pink blush, and it was her blush alone that I could have recognized, for it was the only one I ever remembered.
That's when I vowed to myself to escape this Asylum and escape now.
These feelings that I am recalling are no longer apart of who I am.
There is no room for this girl in my life anymore.
But fuck it all I wanted there to be.