lose your soul || harleen + joker

Tap. Tap. Tap, taptaptap, tap, taptap. Tap.

The clacking of his handcuffs on the table had Joker shutting his eyes, almost reveling in the metallic sound it made. He could get out of the cuffs whenever he liked, but he’d play nice today– for a short while. It wasn’t until he heard Harleen’s voice from the other side of the door that Joker finally sat up proper - his posture straight and his hands folded neatly on the table top, as he’d been instructed. Ohh, yes, he was a good little boy. He was peachy. He was the epitome of a recovering psychopath– only for little miss blonde doctor.

Giving what could only be described as a charming grin once the woman entered, Joker gave a low whistle, waggling a brow and leaning back in his seat. He purposely let his eyes wander over her figure as she moved about the room, blue-green’s never leaving her form for a second until he finally shook his head, laying his cuffed hands to rest on his chest, as he wasn’t able to cross his arms - much to his irritation.

“So, what’s the verdict, Doc? Can I go home now?” he tilted his head with a lop-sided smirk, shifting his arms once more so his hands were now at the back of his head, fingers threaded together in order to cup the back of his head lazily. “I think I’ve been a good lil’ boy since we started, don’t you?”