that’s that. | jasonette

Word Count: +0.6k

summary: “on a scale of one to ten, how bad do you want to kill me right now?”

a/n: can’t believe i got this out so quick. even though it’s relatively short (compared to my usual 2k), i like this one a lot. as usual, the bolded text is a prompt from pinterest.

ao3|wattpad|masterlist|prompts

part 1

Jason cringed as he watched Marinette’s face go through a multitude of expression changes and finally land on one; a mix of anger and surprise (probably wondering how he managed to escape through the tiny vents of the building).

He had a feeling that this wasn’t going to end well for him, especially when Marinette strode up to him, inches away from his face.

Feeling his heartbeat speed up and palms growing sweaty, Jason cursed himself for developing his stupid crush on Marinette.

Even though he didn’t know anythingabout her at the time, in a few weeks, Jason had managed to develop a crush on Marinette, her somewhat sweet manner and overall badassness just drawing him in and doing thingsto him.

His crush was only further encouraged when he did a ‘little’ research on Marinette using the Justice League’s extensive databases.

After a little more in-depth research of history, it wasn’t hard to figure out why Marinette was at the League of Assassins.

Sorely regretting his decision to try and poke the answer out of Marinette before he left, Jason resigned himself to the fact that he would never meet Marinette again.

Or so he thought, the situation in front of him proving him wrong.

“So,” Jason said casually, leaning back a little. Marinette’s close proximity was being verydistracting. “On a scale of one to ten, how bad do you want to kill me right now?”

Marinette shot him a smile; all teeth and nothinglike the girl she was in the pictures he found of her past (Jason wasn’t stalking her! He just happenedto find them and happenedto memorise them).

“Right now,” Marinette trailed a slim finger over his arm, all the way to his chest. “I’m hovering somewhere in the high thirties.”

Jason gulped for two reasons. One, well thatwasn’t good, and two, holy shit he never knew a finger could be so utterly distracting.

“Well,” he stuttered, cheeks darkening to a shade of red. “I didn’t-”

“But,” Marinette interrupted him, hands looping around his neck now. “I didjust get you back, and to be honest, I don’t particularly want to lose you again. Do you know just how many nights of sleep I lost because of you?”

Jason opened his mouth to answer a verycautious answer, but, apparently, it was a rhetorical question because a few seconds later, Marinette tugged his face towards hers.

His lips found their place on hers, fitting together like they were two puzzle pieces.

For the first few seconds, Jason was frozen. Pinned against the wall, his hands were by his sides, not doing anything until his snapped back to his senses.

Turning the tables, Jason turned Marinette around so shewas pinned against the wall, and moving his lips against hers, Jason wrapped his hands around her waist tightly and possessively.

After a few minutes, air was becoming more and more a necessity that they both needed, but Jason was unwilling to let go, even for a gulp of air.

In fact, they would have gone right on kissing until they passed out, had Tim not barged in.

“Are you guys done?” he asked impatiently, eyes glued to his phone. “I have thingsto do and- oh my god, myeyes!”

He ran out of the room screaming and yelling about being “mentally scarred” and “never recovering” and Jason had a feeling that a lotof people were going to be asking him questions later.

But right now, that wasn’t his priority.

His priority was the girl in front of him, with sparkling blue eyes and a smugsmirk on her lips.

“So,” she said, teasingly. “That’s that.”

Jason groaned, already knowing that she somehow knewTim was coming and did nothing about it.

“I hate you,” he mumbled into her shoulder. “So much.”

Marinette smirked into his shoulder, again. “That’s not what I felt a few seconds ago.”

Sighing as he straightened himself, Jason wondered what the hellpossessed him to like a girl like Marinette.

Her amazing personality (and looks) were certainlynot worth this.

At least, that’s what he told himself in that moment.

Arthur Fleck x Original Female Character  | Joker AU
[masterlist]| [ ← previous chapter]

⁕

      The heavy front door slammed shut behind her, and Wanda let herself fall forward immediately, only barely landing on her soft leather couch. What a fucked up day.
      It hadn’t been working on a Saturday that ruined her day, nor had it been the underlying sense of stress she’d been feeling recently; her bad mood solely derived from the incompetence and selfishness of the people around her, the people she was forced to work with every day, the nurses and doctors that didn’t give a shit about others, let alone the feelings and lives of the young kids they worked with. Nobody cares anymore.

      Wanda let her hand drop to the hardwood floor and heard her rings jingle together. How can people be so… so self-absorbed, so falsely confident in their actions, how -
      She stopped herself and sat up promptly to look at the quietly ticking clock above her TV. 5:12 pm.
      Her heart skipped a beat, and she leaned back against the back-rest of her sofa. She’d be seeing Arthur for dinner again at 8. 

      About a week had passed since they’d met and spent the evening in that cutesy little diner, and she’d only managed to go three days with the receipt with his number on it constantly burning a hole in her pocket before she’d called him.
      He’d been somewhat surprised to hear from her, but certainly not opposed to meeting her for dinner on Wednesday, two days later, which had been amazing.
      Sure, Arthur was, for lack of a better word, weird. He was awkward, his sense of humour was twisted and dark and his sporadic fits of laughter had the potential to make her feel fairly uncomfortable, mostly because of the people around them, but he was also extremely honest and genuine, extraordinarily caring and loving, especially when talking about his mother, and just an overall delightful human being. 

      However, regardless of his charming ways of talking, she felt his inner sadness and suffering. He didn’t talk about it much, not even really when she brought such themes up, but Wanda could feel how broken he was and how desperately he needed somebody to talk to - not unlike her.

      As much as she yearned to see him again, after this terrible day she felt like she wanted to do nothing but cuddle up in bed with a steaming cup of tea and cry herself to sleep. Maybe she could convince him to do something else, but go for dinner? Maybe just…

      She had grabbed the phone’s receiver already, her fingers dialling the number slowly, as if savouring every digit, but her heart was pounding as she finished to hear the dial tone. What if he’s not home? What if he is, and he’s mad that you can’t make it? What if -
      “Hello?” The voice that interrupted her nervous spiralling wasn’t Arthurs, but the raspy, weak tone of an older woman. His mum, of course.
      “Hi, u-um, hi, is Arthur there by any chance?” The woman on the other end inhaled sharply, and her voice seemed a little stronger than before, now mostly charged with confusion.
      “Oh, yes, but… who’s there?”
      “Wanda, m-my name is Wanda, I’m a friend of his. Could I p-possibly speak to him?” The woman paused, as if taken aback by her words, then caught herself and continued with an audible smile on her face.
      “Yes, yes, of course, hold on just a second.” Wanda could practically hear the haphazard motion that was made to cover up the phone’s microphone, the sound muffled for just a moment, before she could hear everything clearly again.

      “Happy!” She really calls him that.
      “Yes, mom?” Arthur’s voice called back sounding distant, like a call from far away or a different room.
      “There’s someone on the phone for you, her name’s Wanda?”
      “Oh, sh - !” His reaction came immediately as her name was spoken, a loud clattering, then suddenly a smashing sound, before a squeaking door opened in a rush.
      “Goodness, put some clothes on, Happy, you can’t walk around in a towel, you’ll catch a cold!”
      “I will, mom, I will in a minute, give me the phone, okay?”
      “Who’s Wanda? Is this your girlfriend?” Wanda giggled, and promptly covered her mouth, hoping neither of them had heard her. 

      His girlfriend.
      They had talked for hours over dinner, the food almost completely forgotten on the table between them as they chatted about anything and everything. She’d told him about her job, her flat, her everyday problems, and he’d told her about his work as a clown, his coworkers that he seemed to, at least, somewhat enjoy the company of, even though she’d felt an immediate dislike towards most of them, and his mother, whom she’d thought about increasingly lovingly from the way he’d described her.
      It had been only when the last sunlight ceased to light up the dreary streets outside that they’d stepped out into the crisp evening air.

      He’d offered to walk her home, again, but she’d declined politely, not wanting to be a nuisance, so he’d dropped her off at another bus stop. 

      As easy and natural as their evening of conversation had been going, as awkward had been saying goodbye. They’d stood close for a few moments, unsure of their actions, until she’d wrapped her arms around his slim frame and hugged him.
      Her body had been surging with electricity, her heart beating out of her chest while she’d pressed her face against his shoulder and collarbone, drinking in the closeness and warmth of his body. He’d taken a few moments to reciprocate the hug, and Wanda had found herself surprised by how much she’d wanted him to kiss her as she’d pulled away, even disappointed as he’d merely risen his hand again in a curt wave, turned around and hurried off into the darkness before her bus had even come to a full stop beside them.

      “No, mom, not my girlfriend, just - I’ll tell you later okay, just give me the - hello?” There he was, as clear as if he were standing right next to her, and she felt her heart surge as an immediate reaction to him.
      “Am I interrupting something?” Wanda snickered as she spoke, but Arthur promptly cut her off with his answer.
      “No, no, I was just taking a shower, it’s all good. Is everything okay?”
      Just say yes, don’t be a fucking wuss, Wanda.
      “That’s why I’m calling, I - actually I’m n-not feeling very well.”
      “Oh…” There was obvious empathy in his voice, but also a big hint of disappointment.
      “I’m sorry to hear that, can I - ”
      “But I still - I s-still want to see you.” The shyness was dominating her voice as she spoke, and she hoped it wouldn’t sound quite as desperate as she thought it did. She genuinely just wanted to see him.
      “Oh?”

      “I was thinking maybe we can just… go for a walk? I’m sorry, really, if you don’t w-want to, you don’t have to - ”
      “No, I’d love to. Do you want me to come pick you up?” His immediate acceptance surprised her as much as she felt flattered, and she struggled not to jump up and down with happiness.
      “You don’t have to, let’s maybe just meet at the park?”
      “Now?” She hadn’t thought about a time, frankly not expecting him to agree anyways.
      “I-i-if you want to, yes, I could be there in about 20 minutes?”
      “Yeah, I’ll meet you at the benches out front by the park towers?”
      “Okay, I’ll s-see you then.”
      “Be careful on the way.”

⁕

      She was late. Wanda’s eager and naïve estimate of 20 minutes had been easily overtaken by the delayed bus she’d had to wait for about half an hour alone, leaving her in the middle of rush hour on her way to their meeting point.

      Exiting the bus at the park entrance, she could already see Arthur from afar sitting on one of the benches, his leg bouncing up and down in a quick rhythm, his elbows on his knees, head in his hands, directed towards the ground.
      The light was draining away already, the low-standing sun hidden behind a solid layer of clouds and she could feel that pressure suddenly, that familiar feeling of something crawling from the pit of her stomach upwards through her throat and nose into her burning eyes and felt her eyebrows furrow by themselves as she walked towards him. Don’t cry, Wanda, come on, don’t cry.
      There was barely even enough light to cast a shadow onto the uneven asphalt flooring before her, and he didn’t see her as she walked past, his eyes clamped shut under his furrowed brows, all hidden behind a curtain of dark, shoulder-length hair.

      Wanda sat down next to him quietly, her bottom lip quivering so uncontrollably that she had to bite down onto it hard. She folded her hands together and laid them in her lap with the pressure in her chest and stomach increasing steadily, her eyes now feeling like there was a blazing fire burning right behind them.
      She took in a soothing but shuddering breath, and then couldn’t keep herself quiet any longer.
      “It’s all going to fucking shits.”
      “Wanda!” Arthur jolted up, his eyes wide open as he took her in, his shock immediately replaced by worry. The lights around them turned into wavering streaks as she blinked, and she could feel the first tears spilling over the corners of her eyes, slowly running down her cheeks.

      Arthur next to her sat up straighter and turned his whole body towards her, his hands unsteadily extended towards her, as if wanting to comfort her, but not quite knowing how. Wanda clamped her eyes shut and tried to speak, to explain herself or apologise, but something was blocking her, didn’t let her speak, only let her struggle with her unsteady breathing.

      He seemed to have moved closer as Wanda opened her eyes again, she could feel the warmth radiating off of him as the tears kept coming. She raised a hand to her face, wiping them away carelessly, but as she lowered it again, he intercepted, his long fingers closing around her freezing hand. A jolt of electricity moved through her instantly, making her look up at his anxious face.
      “T-this whole fucking town, just one big blob of c-conceited assholes.”
      “What happened?”

      She told him. They got up and walked, slowly, through the adjacent park as she spoke. She told him all about Will and his disease, about the questionable methods of treatment they were using on him, about the rapid downfall of his health and the kids from the other stations, about the other nurses and doctors and the recent enormous cuts in funding - about how nobody cared.
      He walked alongside her, her hand still loosely grasped in his and nodded understandingly every now and again, sometimes offering quick interjections and anecdotes, even a joke that had made her chuckle through her still-teary eyes.

      “All of them only care about themselves, not a single thought wasted on others, such fucking n-narcissists.” They’d sat down on another bench, this time overlooking a narrow part of the Gotham River where filthy seagulls were circling over seemingly nothing in the rolling grey stream.
      “I wouldn’t say it like that.” Arthur smiled sadly, and a thought came to her mind.
      “You don’t swear, do you?” His smile ceased, and he averted his eyes.
      “Sometimes… Just not in front of my mom.”
      “S-she doesn’t like it, huh?” He shook his head, and she thought back to his mother’s pleasant voice she’d heard on the telephone earlier. “She sounds very sweet.”
      “She worries too much.” Who doesn’t? She folded her hands together, trying to warm them up, while his eyes focussed on something far away.
      “T-there is a lot to worry about these days.” He nodded slowly, almost absentmindedly, and she was overcome by the urge to hold his hand again to offer some sort of comfort.
      “I guess.”
      “Sorry to pull you away from her like this, a-after today I just didn’t really feel like going for dinner - ”
      “No, no, I get it! I’m… I’m glad you still wanted to meet up.” He turned back towards her, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards, and she couldn’t hold back anymore. Her fingers slid over his arm, savouring the feel of the soft fabric of his ochre jacket, and almost instinctively, she interlocked her fingers with his, slowly, but purposefully. He was trembling slightly under her touch, she could feel it, but for her that was only to be taken as a compliment, especially as he readjusted his grip and squeezed her hand softly.
      “I’m glad you could m-make it.”

⁕

      Arthur insisted on walking Wanda home this time, reiterating that the streets of Gotham were truly dangerous these days and he wasn’t comfortable letting her walk home by herself, especially as her injured ankle had started to act up again.
      Her hands were buried deep within the pockets of her thick winter coat as they embarked on the journey in moderately comfortable silence. She could hear him breathing weirdly beside her, as if struggling to decide whether or not to say something, eventually breaking the quiet.
      “I have a question.” His voice was serious, all of a sudden.
      “Yeah?”
      “And you don’t have to answer it, if you don’t want to.” Wanda turned her head to find him regarding her with a somewhat curious, somewhat careful expression, as if he were observing an animal in the wild. She chuckled nervously as they finished crossing a street and stepped back onto the pavement.
      “Now you’re s-scaring me, Arthur.”
      “No, don’t be - I don’t… Why were you in that alley?” Her feet stopped moving her forward almost instinctively, and she stopped in her tracks.
      “What?” He turned around and hurried towards her, obviously worried he’d said something wrong.
      “I meant - I just meant the alley, where we met. I told you why I was there, but you never… you never mentioned why you were.”
      “Oh.” Oh, indeed. Her head was racing with lies and excuses, like she’d always tried to find when it came to her and Nathan’s relationship. Oh, the bruises? It’s nothing, I fell. The black eye? Just an accident. - You don’t have to tell them the truth.

      She shook her head and walked past him, picking up her speed to their former tempo, afraid, just for a moment, that her mouth wasn’t going to let her speak again, but it did.
      “I w-was… running from s-someone. My ex, he’s… n-not a very friendly guy.” Arthur was next to her at the blink of an eye as he heard her voice, all ears for everything she was saying.
      “What… what did he do?”

      Don’t say it, don’t say it, don’t say it, don’tsayit.
      “He was - he… have you ever heard about that weird f-fact, that women tend to fall for men like their fathers?” He shook his head slowly, eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “Life works in m-mysterious ways, he… well, he was just like my dad.” She turned her head to the side and observed the buildings they were passing as a distraction, so she could talk more clearly and freely.
      “He was… my dad, he wasn’t a great father, I think I t-told you about him the day we met, he… he hit my mum often, sometimes me. I - I don’t know why I’m telling you this, g-god, I should just - ” Her fingers were covering her eyes as she stopped again and turned away from him in sudden embarrassment.
      “Hey, no, no, please!” She was surprised by his short, but exceptionally easily suppressed chuckle and his warm but hesitant hands on her back and forearm. “I’m not gonna force you to tell me more, but I’ll… if you want to, I’ll listen - I’ll listen to anything you want to talk about.” His smile was loving and encouraging, and they continued walking as she explained.

      “My dad was abusive throughout my whole childhood, and after my parents f-finally split up about five years ago, he m-moved back here. My mother passed away a c-couple of years ago, not long after that, and about two y-years ago I got the news that my dad’s health had started to det-deteriorate as well, and he was in need of help, so I came here - to help.”
      Arthur nodded understandingly, his hands plunged black into the pockets of his oversized slacks, his eyes not leaving hers for even a second.

      “I got him into a fairly n-nice clinic, out of the shithole he was living in, n-n-not that he was thankful for anything I was doing, but now he was at least somewhat c-cared for. I started working here full time again to p-pay the bills and visited him every day, and he seemed to be getting better and b-better. I mean, sometimes he was even n-nice to me for once,” her face was overcome by an absent smile for a second, “and then the city cut their budgets and the clinic closed.”
      He took in a sharp breath, and she concentrated on looking forward and walking the familiar way towards home.
      “I c-couldn’t afford to get him into any of the other clinics, and Arkham State r-refused to take him in because he didn’t have, and I quote, any obvious issues. W-what a load of fucking idiots they are.” They turned a corner, and she could see the memories almost like a movie playing in front of her inner eye.
      “Well, I had to take him into my flat and try to c-care for him there, but it didn’t work. He had mental issues, which, I think, is o-obvious by now, and one day, when I c-came home from work, he was just gone. Had taken all of the money I had left from mum and some I’d managed to s-save up and left. I found out a couple of w-weeks later, completely by ch-chance, that he’d passed away.”

      Wanda took a shuddering breath, and she felt Arthur move closer, so his arm was now pressing against hers as they advanced through the dingy street.
      “I was just w-walking to work, you know, and there he was, on the p-pavement, and there was an ambulance and these fucking asshole paramedics were standing by his side talking shit and - l-long story short, he died of hypothermia out in the open s-streets.”
      “Oh my god - ” Arthur had stopped this time, his eyes wide open in horror, his face even paler than usual.
      “Don’t be sorry for me, I s-suppose it was better that way, both for him and for me.”
      “I don’t - I - First of all, I’m incredibly sorry, but I… I was there…”
      “What?” He suddenly pulled out the journal she’d seen him scribble in sometimes from his back pocket and opened his notes, quickly turning the pages until he seemingly landed on the one he was looking for, about half-way through the notebook.
      “I was on my way home and there was an ambulance and I got curious and I saw him, I saw… I’m so sorry, Wanda.”
      She stepped closer to him, her eyes roaming over the messy pages up to where his fingers were pointing.

      I noticed that there was an ambulance and the paramedics were standing over the homeless man. I walked over because I was interested in what happened to him as I got near them I heard them say “what a way to go on the side walk.” what?? can you imagine that??? dead on the sidewalk with people stepping over you. Maybe he’s happier.

      Her eyes welled up with tears again, and she quickly turned her head away from him, swallowing them up silently.
      “It’s fine, really, just sorry you had to s-see that.”
      “No I’m… I’m the one who’s sorry, really. But then…” His voice was back to the careful, caring guy as he quickly closed the diary and caught back up with her. “What happened with your… your… the guy you were talking about?”
      “Oh, yes, he… I met him after I m-moved here, and as dad got worse and worse, he was really the only p-person I had - the only one that was… there for me, I guess.”
      Arthur nodded, and she thought she could see just a glimmer of understanding in his eyes. He also only had his mum.
      “I thought he was nice and a g-good guy, I didn’t see how he started to manipulate me; how he made me do things I didn’t want by making me feel g-guilty, or how he was constantly lying, I didn’t see any of that - not until he started to get aggressive and v-v-violent with me.” She could see Arthur turning away discretely out of the corner of her eye, his eyebrows furrowed, casting a deep shadow over his usually bright eyes.

      “After my dad had passed, I was crushed. Not necessarily b-because of his death, I told you, I knew it was probably f-for the best, but I suddenly couldn’t see any meaning in what I was doing a-anymore. My parents were dead, I didn’t really have any f-friends, my colleagues hated me almost as much as I d-despised them so all I had left was Nathan, and I knew that s-something was… off in our relationship.”
      They turned a corner to another street, and Wanda could see the multi-story apartment building she was living in in the far right end of her field of vision.
      “Then, one day, he went too far. He’d started to ‘punish’ me every n-now and again for irrelevant things he ge-genuinely saw as mistakes and flaws of mine, and that day he… he locked me in the b-bathroom to teach me a l-lesson with no way of getting out and just… left, for days. He told the neighbours that he was going to have a party, and that they shouldn’t listen to any n-noises they might hear.” S he stopped after they’d crossed the streets towards the white, grimy building, only a couple of metres from the front entrance and shrugged as if it was the most natural reaction.
      “Well, thankfully somebody did listen, and it’s a l-long story, but I got away. Hadn’t seen him for a couple of weeks until that day you and I met, when he s-saw me in the city by chance and t-t-tried to…” She choked on her breath, the feeling of his breath on her ear and his hand on her throat all too real all of a sudden. “Well, I ran, and that’s that!”

      Wanda rubbed her eyes, which were tearing up, as casually as possible, but she could feel him tense up even further beside her.
      “I - I don’t know what to say. I’m so sorry, that’s just - that’s really… how could anyone - ”
      Her hand darted forward to his arm in a meagre attempt at stopping his apologetic stuttering and closed around the fabric instinctively.
      “It’s alright, I’m fine now. R-Remember, you asked.”
      Wanda observed his worried expression transform into nervousness as she suddenly realised how close together they were standing. Her back was leaning against the wall and he was towering over her, his facial contour lit up dramatically by the street light just behind him.
      All words escaped her as she felt his warm breath fan over her face, and she could feel her heart beating so fast that it was actively threatening to burst out of her chest. His face was closer than it had ever been, the contours and premature wrinkles all too visible on his pale skin, but his closeness was making her hands tremble and her eyes flicker down to his lips.
      He moved closer, slowly but surely, and just as he was millimetres away from her and she was absolutely certain that he was leaning in to finally kiss her, he took a step back, mumbling a quick goodbye and was gone before she could even turn her head to look after him.
      When she awoke from her trance and turned to open her front door, she could still hear his faint nervous cackle in the distance.

Arthur Fleck x Original Female Character  | Joker AU
[masterlist] | [ ← previous chapter]][next chapter → ]

⁕

      The diner turned out to be a quirky, colourful little space, tucked away between two of the many hulking skyscrapers Gotham had to offer. It was one of the first family-run businesses Wanda had seen in a long time, since the city was largely dominated by corporate-owned restaurant chains nowadays.
      They were greeted upon entering by the glow of blue-ish fluorescent lights on the ceiling, that were an especially comfortable change to the dark alleyway, and a friendly older woman, who was wiping down one of the square tables near the entrance.

      Arthur sat down to her left after they decided to take up a corner booth right next to a large window overlooking the busy evening streets, his eyes diverted downwards to the white wooden table. They had both started meagre attempts at small-talk on the way, and he’d made her laugh once or twice with some borderline morbid jokes, which she’d found surprisingly funny, but the atmosphere between them still felt very awkward.
      A young waitress, that Wanda believed to be the daughter of the older woman, came to deliver them their coffees and a warm smile. Arthur nodded at the lady politely, before his hands came to rest around his steaming cup and he turned his attention back to Wanda.

      "So… you’re not from here, are you?“ His hesitance made her smile, and she could feel her heartbeat quicken as she looked up into his eyes, noticing their colour for the first time.

      They were green, the kind of bright green that fought through heaps of melting snow to remind you that spring was coming, sparkling in the neon lights like fresh dew on the grass in the morning.

      Wanda found herself staring for just a moment too long, and the blush seared through her cheeks so fast she could’ve sworn her face was on fire.
      "Oh, t-the accent? Surprised, you didn’t ask earlier. I’m from s-southern England, originally.” She fiddled with the sugar packet and could see him out of the corner of her eye tilting his head slightly after she finished, like a curious dog.
      “Then what brought you here?” To this shitshow of a city? Arthur gestured to the window behind him, and she followed his indication.

      The darkness was falling over the city like a dark veil, the light grey sky slowly but surely transforming it into an ocean of velvety blackness, only broken up by the warmly lit-up windows lining the sky-high buildings. People were passing the grimy window of the diner, some rushing past, some sauntering along and some just calmly wandering the streets.
      “I…” Wanda struggled a bit, the topic of her family being something that she was still fairly uncomfortable talking about. “I… My d-d-dad was American, he was actually b-born in Gotham.” She took a shuddering breath and tried to concentrate on individual faces passing by, distractions usual helping her stutter, which, for some reason, was worse today than it had been in a long time.

      "My parents met while he was over in England on a b-business trip, and they had me shortly after. They split up eventually a c-couple of years ago, and he moved back here.“
      A group of businessmen walked past, the oncoming darkness making it seem like their expensive black suits were blending right into the Gotham-typical mountains of shiny trashbags behind them, and Wanda had to smile for a moment, realising the irony of her thought. We’re the trash, not them.
      "And you went with him?”
      “No, I stayed in England. W-well, originally, I did. But then he got sick and needed help, and I came here.”
      The men had left, and she now observed a young couple standing by the bus stop just outside, his arm draped loosely across her bare shoulders as they waited in the cold. Their breaths were rising in visible puffs through the crisp air above them, blending in with the neverending cigarette smoke drifting through the city.
      “He wasn’t a good dad, hit us and all that, but he was still my dad…”

      The jarring sound of a fork clattering onto the black and white tile floor of the diner brought Wanda back to reality, and she realised what she’d just said out loud.
      “Fuck, I-I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.” She straightened up instinctively as if she was getting ready to leave, and lifted her fingers up to loosely cover her mouth in embarrassment. “I have a tendency to o-overshare and I have problems with s-s-stuttering when I’m n-nervous and then I notice that I’m t-t-talking too much and my stutter gets even worse and I can’t stop and I just w-wish that I hadn’t talked at all, and - ”
      “It’s okay, I like listening to you.” His voice was warm and genuine, and she relaxed almost immediately as he spoke. 
      “The stuttering doesn’t bother me, trust me, I know what it’s like when you have no control over… yourself.” He pointed at himself with a bitter smile and she could feel her heart burn with compassion.

      "This condition of yours, h-have you always had that?“ Her mouth had, once more, blurted out her thoughts without her consent, and she was immediately filled with regret. So inappropriate.
      "I…” Arthur paused, and she interrupted him immediately.
      “Sorry, you don’t have to answer that, that was so intrusive - ”
      “I’ve had it for as long as I can think, really.” His eyebrows were furrowed slightly, his mouth curved in a slight frown and he seemed to look through her as if lost in thought.
      “Must’ve been terrible as a child,” Wanda thought out loud. She couldn’t imagine what it must be like to suffer from a condition like his, much less to grow up with such a burden. Adults were often condescending and rude, but kids could be brutal with their words and actions, especially when they were directed at others who were different in any way, regardless of whether the problem was under their control or not.
      “It still is.” Arthur murmured, and she felt a wave of discomfort wash over her. Fuck.
      “O-of course, I - o-of course, it is!” Now she sounded like the most ignorant person on the planet. As a child. A condition like his wasn’t just a small impediment like her stutter, it could probably impact pretty much every single aspect of his life negatively; how can you say something like that so carelessly?

      "I-I just meant, when I was a child I had t-terrible problems with stuttering, much worse than now, and everybody m-made fun of me. I mean, even my t-teachers laughed at me all the time, and if that isn’t the most case-in-point example of our failing educational system, I don’t know what is.“ Wanda saw images flashing before her eyes, her old teacher Mrs Wortham whom she’d despised more than anybody else she’d ever known. Her arrogant way of talking, her exaggerated, fabricated smiles, and her constant malicious words against her, all of it filling Wanda with a wave of anger against the general system that she hadn’t felt in a long time.

      "It got to a point where I just s-stopped talking altogether, because not being able to say anything was still better than constantly being l-laughed at, and it was horrible. That’s why I imagine that it must have been terrible growing up with your condition, just b-b-because, well, I mean, I don’t want to bring any of that up, but - all I’m trying to say is: I’m s-sorry, it must’ve been very hard.”

      To her surprise, he smiled at her genuinely, then looked down into his half-empty cup of coffee.
      “I appreciate that, thank you. I… I didn’t really go to a public school. I did for a while, but it just didn’t work out, so my mom… my mom taught me everything I needed to know.” Arthur avoided eye contact, and Wanda felt like he was really embarrassed about it. She knew about the recent debates, about the people who claimed it was criminal to withhold children from public education, but she couldn’t have cared less; as long as they taught their child the basics and made sure their moral compass wasn’t severely screwed up, what did it matter in which environment the children learned?
      “That’s so interesting, it must’ve been a lot of fun to be taught things by someone that’s so close to you and actually cares about you.”
      “It was. I mean, I love my mom, but it was hard… it was hard growing up without any other friends.” The sadness that he spoke with made her heart grow heavy in her chest, and her sympathy for him increased indefinitely.
      “I know… I - I mean, I can imagine. But at least you had her, right?”
      “I did, yeah. She’s the most important person in my life.” His eyes met hers again, and she could see that he spoke the truth, his expression full of warmth and love and Wanda felt a little pang of jealousy hit her. She’d never had the best relationship with her mother, not after everything that had happened, but she’d always longed to have something like this, someone, that would be there in this way at all times.
      “I’m glad, she sounds amazing.” Afraid, that her expression might seem somewhat sour, Wanda intuitively covered her mouth as she smiled.

      "Do you wanna know what her nickname for me is?“
      "What is it?”
      “Happy.” Happy. That was the cutest thing she’d ever heard.
      “That is so adorable. I have to meet her someday and see, what kind of name she’d come up with for me.”
      Something in his eyes changed as she said that, something that apparently gave him a little more confidence, considering he suddenly sat up straighter, his arms laid out on the table in an open gesture, and smiled at her brightly.
      “You know, she only calls me that, because I really like jokes - always have.”
      “I can tell, and you’re good at telling them, too!”

⁕

      "It’s fine, I’ll be fine. You want to go?“ His posture still exuded uncertainty, but as they finally left the dark alleyway, his demeanour seemed to better naturally.
      Her head instinctively snapped to both sides as they reached the open streets, her eyes scanning the crowds for the slick blond hair she’d run from earlier, but he really seemed to have gone.
      Walking was okay, sometimes a little difficult to place her foot in the right angle as to not feel any pain or injure herself further, but Wanda was way too shy to ask Arthur for help.

      They walked about a block, only exchanging small talk and fleeting glances before she spied the diner in question in the corner of her vision. They were crossing the street when it happened: she stepped back up onto the pavement a little too enthusiastically, and immediately felt the now-familiar ache shoot up through her leg again, making her hiss in pain. Her hand grabbed Arthur’s arm for balance, and she felt her face scrunch up in discomfort.
      There was a short pause as he took in some air before he spoke, his voice dripping with concern.
      "I really feel like I should get you to a hospital or something.” Wanda let her face relax again as the pain subsided slowly, and gave his arm a reassuring squeeze.
      “Thanks, really, but I know I’ll be fine.” He chuckled, and she could see his face light up ever so slightly all of a sudden.
      “You wanna know the quickest way of getting to the hospital?” She let go of his arm as he lifted it and pointed behind her.
      “Just stand in the road and wait.”

⁕

      Her heartfelt chuckle still rang in her ears as she remembered his previous joke and his pure, pleased facial expression as he’d looked back at her.
      “Thank you, I’m - well, I’m trying to pursue a career in stand up comedy.”
      Oh. That, Wanda had not expected. She’d enjoyed the jokes he’d told her over the course of the night immensely, but she felt like his sense of humour was very much specialised, so much that the general public would probably not be a very receptive audience to his type of comedy.
      However, she was.

      "Really? I’d love to come to one of your shows some time.“ He raised his eyebrows as if questioning her enthusiastic response, and seemed to struggle with giving a casual response.
      "I-I’ll tell you when I’ve got one coming up.”
      “So, what do you do for a living right now?” The embarrassment in his eyes returned immediately, and he lowered his gaze back towards his coffee.

      "I work for the… I work as a clown.“ Of course, that explained the remainders of white makeup on the side of his face she’d been wondering about, but something about that seemed… off. Arthur, while he appeared to her like a friendly and interesting person, frankly didn’t seem to be the type to work as a clown. He seemed very sad and almost sickly, and Wanda couldn’t help but wonder how he came to work in an industry that was so very largely based on entertainment and laughter.

      "I’ve never met a clown before, I’ve always thought it sounds like so much fun.”
      “Well, it depends.”
      “What do you mean?” He was still avoiding eye contact as he spoke, his hands fiddling with the sleeves of his dotted white button-up shirt.
      “Well, I work for an agency, they’re actually called ‘the ha-ha agency’,” he rolled his eyes warily, “they rent out clowns for a variety of things - good and bad. I get to go to the children’s hospital sometimes, that’s the best.” He looked back up at her unexpectedly, and his eyes were almost glowing with passion.
      “There is this one kid who’s got cancer, I think, and he’s always the happiest, always reacts with the most genuine laughter you’ll ever hear. He’s the cutest kid I’ve ever met, and it’s the most gratifying experience to - ”
      “Will…”
      “Yes, Will. Do you know him?” Wanda had interrupted him unwillingly, but her mind had not allowed her to remain silent as she recognised who he was talking about.
      “I do, I - I work there.”
      “You do?” She did. William, the boy he was talking about, was on her station, a little orphan boy who had fortunately been lucky enough to receive treatment for his rare case of bone cancer, largely because they didn’t know a lot about his disease yet, so he was perfect for testing out unusual new methods. She shuddered and forced herself to smile at Arthur’s curious look.

      "I’m a nurse there. We’re living in rough times, the children are getting sicker and sicker every day, and Will…" Wanda looked him in the eyes and stopped herself from elaborating.
      “I’m sorry, you finish first. What’s the bad part?” He hesitated before he continued, maybe wanting to ask her more about her job, but he seemed to catch the fact that she didn’t have any real interest in continuing to talk about it at the moment, so he took another deep breath and kept going.
      “Well, sometimes it’s the most demeaning things you have to do as a clown. I don’t have a problem with that per sé, I don’t…” He paused, but Wanda knew what he meant. He didn’t think of himself very highly, and as long as he got paid for what he did, he didn’t care what others thought of him.
      “But the people here are just…”
      “The worst.”
      “Yeah.” Arthur gave her a sour smile, then turned away towards the window. "Got jumped the other day, by some teens.“ Fuck. Her gaze fell back onto the materializing bruises along his jawline and neck, the outsides a pale red with the middles resembling the purple of plums all the way to the dark mauve of blackberries.

      "Was my fault, really. They stole something from me and I shouldn’t have gone after them.”
      “Sorry about that…” Wanda followed his gaze once more, the darker streets outside now largely empty, only lit up by the yellowish glow of the many street lights lining the pavement, and she lost herself staring at the passing cars. Deep in thought, without looking at him, she mumbled, partly directed at him, partly directed at herself: “What’s become of this world, Arthur?”

⁕

      “You sure you don’t want me to walk you home? The streets here are dangerous, especially at night.” Arthur’s words warmed Wanda’s heart as the harsh coldness crept through her jacket, and she shook her head with a smile.
      “I’ll be fine, you really don’t have to. I live on the other side of t-town and I know you’ve got work tomorrow, besides, it’s really just this b-bus I have to take and then I’m basically already home.”
      “Okay…” He nodded to himself, head now turned towards the ground as he readjusted his pale ochre jacket before thrusting his hands into his pockets dejectedly.

      "Listen, I… I really enjoyed t-this, you know?“ His gaze met hers immediately as she stammered, eyes wide open in surprise. "I mean, m-maybe we could do something like this a-again sometime?” Wanda forced herself to smile, and he blinked a couple of times, then rubbed his eyes firmly before refocussing on her. She almost expected him to reject her offer after all this, but he proved her wrong.

      "Y-yeah, sure!“ His stutter made her laugh, and even though she’d tried to swallow it as much as she could, she knew he’d noticed. "I’ll… um… I’ll give you my number?” His head was cocked to the side as he suggested the idea, once again reminding her of a cute, curious dog, and she quickly pulled out a pen from her purse, handing it to him.

      Wanda could see her bus approaching out of the corner of her eye and quickly took the few steps towards the road to signal for the bus driver to stop. Turning around, she was startled to find Arthur standing right behind her, his hand extended holding her pen and a receipt that had something scribbled on its back in very messy handwriting.
      She grabbed it immediately, as the bus slowed down to a stop and nodded at Arthur, not quite knowing under which boundaries to say goodbye.
      “I-I-I’ll call you, if I can r-read this.” She grinned, and he chuckled in response as she rose her hand to a cordial wave, the paper grasped tightly between her fingers.
      “Be careful.” He added, and she saluted him as she boarded the bus.
      “I will.”

      With her hand and the piece of paper pressed closely to her chest, the bus closed its doors and started moving almost immediately, and Wanda couldn’t help but feel a tight, pressing feeling in her chest as she studied Arthur slowly moving out of her field of vision.
      His hands were pushed back into his jacket pockets, his eyes following the bus as the corners of his mouth curved slightly upwards into a hint of a smile, and then they had turned a corner and he was out of sight.

      Wanda sighed and pressed the paper tighter against her chest. She felt like there was so much more to him, so much more mystery to unfold, to learn and know, and she couldn’t help but eagerly await the next time they’d meet.

Arthur Fleck x Original Female Character  | Joker AU 
[masterlist] | [next chapter → ] 

⁕ 

      He’s going to see me. He’s going to get me. He’s going to hurt me.

      Wanda’s breath felt like sharp daggers in her lungs, her legs sore from running through the wide, bustling streets of Gotham trying to get away from him.

      She had tried to excuse his behaviour for months and months, his violent actions towards her, his abusive slaps and punches and - worst of all - his hurtful words. She had tried to be understanding, kind and forgiving, to be there for him, that’s what people in a relationship did, after all, wasn’t it?
      It had only gotten worse. The more she’d tried to help him, the more he’d started acting out on her, had touched her without her consent, had locked her in their apartment for days without food as a ‘punishment’ if she didn’t do exactly what he wanted her to, all until she’d miraculously managed to escape a couple of weeks ago.

      It had taken all of her willpower not to call the police on him, knowing full well he would’ve ended up in jail or another facility, not only because of what he’d done to her but his numerous other criminal actions she had witnessed in the time she had spent with him, not even mentioning his constant drug abuse. She’d wanted to be nice.

      Wanda hadn’t called the police, had just left him a note telling him to keep his distance, and if he ever did try to come near her again, she would turn him in immediately.

      "Dirty fucking bitch!“ he had called her only minutes ago as he’d stumbled upon her randomly in the dirty streets of Gotham before he’d grabbed her dark hair from behind, pulling her back flush against him. The passersby around them apparently hadn’t noticed, if they had, they hadn’t reacted to her precarious situation in any way, not even glancing at her as she struggled against his strong grip. His other hand had wrapped around her throat and pulled her neck back onto his shoulder, so he could talk right into her ear.
      "I’ll give you what you fucking deserve for running away from me, for even daring - ” His snarling voice and his grip on her curls had ceased immediately after Wanda had angled her knee and kicked her foot backwards in the general direction of his crotch.
      “Ugh!” he’d cried out and she’d felt him falling to his knees behind her. She hadn’t turned around to see, she hadn’t had the urge to actually see his face, she’d just started running as fast as she could, jumping through multiple groups of people as she frantically ran and ran as fast as she could, letting the fear and panic envelop her and spur her on.

      Now, as Wanda ran, she knew he was following her, and she knew that, if he caught her, he would kill her. She knew him well enough to know she’d crossed that line he’d talked about so often, and that, in his eyes, she now deserved the ultimate punishment.

      The heavy rain that had been pouring down the whole day had stopped, but the pavements were still slick with a thin coat of water. As she darted around a corner, her foot slid through a puddle into a shallow pothole and lodged itself into the crevice, her ankle suddenly bent dangerously far into the wrong direction, and Wanda cried out in pain as she felt the unnatural stretching sensation.
      She wasn’t going to be able to run from him, not with whatever she had just managed to do to herself, and she looked around in panic. There was the option of running into the big crowd of people in the public square across the street to her right, maybe getting away with the anonymity of the crowd and fleeing via the subway, or she could take her chances and just try to keep on running as far as she could. Then her eyes fell on the narrow alleyway to her left, which, she knew, he would never expect her to hide in.

      Her decision was made, and, within seconds, she was crouched behind a shallow garbage container in the semi-dark alley, watching the street through the gap between container and dirty brick-wall. It took only about 10 seconds until she saw him run past, his usual gelled blond hair messily falling into his face, and then he had passed out of her field of vision.

      Wanda waited for at least 5 minutes, crouched behind the container until the water on the ground had soaked through her shoes and socks and her heart had stopped its relentless, torturous rhythm before she finally got up. Her knees were hurting, and her ankle was throbbing painfully, but she was fine, she was alive, and he was gone.
      Then she heard the loud crash behind her. 

⁕

      Wanda whirled around instinctively, now facing the dark alleyway, and saw the silhouette of a man only a couple of metres away from her. He was tall, his shoulder-length-hair flailing around his thin frame as he held onto the container beside him whilst viciously stomping on a couple of trash bags on the ground in front of him, grunting loudly as he went on and on.
      He continued his venting for about a minute while she stood in the shadows indecisively, his curly hair damp with sweat as he ultimately stopped to lean his hands on his knees while trying to catch his breath.

      The flash of fear she had felt from being startled by the noise had quickly turned into concern for the man in front of her. Sure, it was none of her business, and she could’ve just swallowed her concerns and quietly left the alley, probably without him even noticing, but something about him drew her in, something that made her curious and cautious at once. And what’s the worst that could happen?

      “A-are you okay, sir?” Her voice had spoken for her without her meaning for it to, just after her legs had taken her a careful couple of steps closer, wary of putting pressure onto her already-swollen ankle.
     The figure before her flinched, and straightened up immediately, still visibly exhausted from his fit and turned his face towards her for the first time.

      He wore a white shirt and dark slacks that both looked a little too big on his slender figure, and while he had a kind face dominated by strong features, he looked awfully tired, his eyes sunken in and underlined by dark circles and a drained expression apparent on his face.

      “Yeah, sure.” His voice was mildly dismissive, probably certain she was just asking him because of moral etiquette, and not out of actual worry. He was walking towards her now, trying to pass by her with a considerable, polite distance between them, heading towards the exit of the alley she had come from purposefully fast.

      “Are you sure?” Wanda asked again as he was just about to pass her, and he stopped in his tracks to turn towards her again. His gaze burned through her, studying her for a long couple of seconds while his hand found its way up to his hair, slicking the wet strands backwards onto his shoulders. She forced herself to an encouraging smile.
      “Just a bad day.” His voice was pleasant, deep and relaxing, and his kind smile was audible in his words.
      “Aren’t they all bad these days?” Wanda remarked, and he chuckled lightly. Just as he opened his mouth to answer her, she witnessed a sudden drop of blood flowing out of his nose and trail down over his lips, the dark liquid a stark contrast against his pale complexion. “Oh, your nose, hold on.”
      She reached for her back pocket and pulled out her clean, white handkerchief, quickly closing the distance between them with limping steps to offer it to him.
      He made a rejecting motion and moved to grab his own handkerchief from his shirt pocket only to find it empty, then reluctantly taking hers out of her hand with an appreciative smile.
      “Thanks.” he mumbled as he pressed the cloth over his mouth and his nose, and she could see the blood soaking through the white fabric onto his hands.

      She stood closer to him now, close enough to observe what the dark alleyway had hidden before: a tall, decently attractive man, pale with dark brown hair, strong brows, and striking, bright eyes that seemed to look right into her soul. Wanda could spot the visible residue of white paint around his temples, crusted blood on his scalp and there were fresh, purple bruises on the side of his neck and jaw, that were just beginning to darken as if he’d only been in a fight very recently. 

      Her heart sank, and she spoke without thinking again.
      “Sorry for w-whatever h-h-happened to you.” She mentally slapped herself to stop her unrelenting nervous stutter and gestured to his neck. “This city’s a dump, honestly.”
      His gaze on her seemed somewhat confused now, and he answered after another long chuckle.
     “It really is, isn’t it?” He wiped his nose with the handkerchief and she could see that it appeared to have stopped bleeding.
      “My name’s Wanda, by the w-way.” She couldn’t stop herself from saying it and offered him her hand in a friendly handshake. His skin was cold and rough and his reaction weirdly hesitant as he shook her hand as if he hadn’t expected her to… be nice?

      “Arthur, Arthur Fleck.” That’s a nice name, she thought and gave him another bright smile.
      “It’s nice to meet you, Arthur.”

      He smiled back at her, a genuine, interested smile, and suddenly, out of nowhere, he burst into hysterical laughter that echoed loudly through the narrow street. Wanda instinctively took a step back as he slapped his hand across his mouth and managed to stop for a short moment, then broke out in even more uncontrollable spurts. Arthur lifted his arm and pressed his face into the crook of his elbow, as his other hand was furiously trying to grab something from his inner jacket pocket.

      Great. Wanda immediately regretted having initiated the conversation with this stranger in the dark alley, now convinced that he was absolutely going to pull out a gun or a knife and probably kill her right here, right now. Might’ve as well let Nathan get to me out on the street.
      Her ankle was throbbing and her lungs still hurt with the aftershocks of her recent escape. She knew this guy could do anything to her right now, she had no chance in a fight and running was beyond all question.

      To her genuine surprise, he didn’t pull out a weapon at all, but a small credit-card sized laminated piece of paper with some text on it and handed it to her with his shaking hand, his body still writing with laughter. She turned the worn out, slightly wrinkled card so she could read it in the sparse light.

Forgive my laughter. I have a condition. (more on back)

      Her fingers quickly turned over the card to reveal more information in smaller print.

It’s a medical condition causing sudden, frequent, uncontrollable laughter that doesn’t match how you feel. It can happen to people with brain injuries or certain neurological conditions. Thanks! (Please return the card)

      Her heart was beating out of her chest, and as she looked up again, Arthur had fallen back against the brick wall, one of his hands clamped across his mouth, desperately trying to muffle his voice, the other roughly choking himself, turning his loud laughter into a wheezy cough that sounded horribly painful.
      “S-so-sorr-ha-ha-ha!”

      Wanda was by his side in the blink of an eye, her arm around his upper waist, stabilizing his shaking body against the wall, her voice slow and calm.
      “Shhh, it’s okay, you have to relax, Arthur, can you do that for me?” She slid her hand across the one on his neck. He resisted at first, but then gave in, letting her take it softly into hers, away from his throat, leaving behind large white marks on the reddened skin.
      “Try and breathe slowly, in and out, okay? Do it with me.” His eyes were on hers, and she could see the tears threatening to spill over being blinked away as he focussed on her, his breathing roughly matching hers, only occasionally disrupted by short chuckles, his convulsing chest now calmly rising and falling.

      Wanda’s heart was burning with pity to see him like this. She’d met many people in her life so far, especially since working as a nurse in Gotham, had witnessed many different conditions and disorders, both physical and mental, but this was one of the weirdest ones she had seen so far. Poor Arthur.

      He’d closed his eyes, her steadying arm no longer around his waist as he leaned fully against the wall now, his head thrown back against the cold bricks as he caught his breath fully.
      Her left hand was still holding his, absentmindedly rubbing calming circles into the flesh between his thumb and forefinger.
      “Sorry, I’m so sorry,” he whispered quietly, his voice rough and wheezy as if it hurt him to speak at all.
      “No need to apologise. Are you feeling better?”
      He leaned forward abruptly as though he’d just remembered she was there or had expected her to have gone, his sudden movement pulling his own hand out of hers.
      His gaze was once more focussed on her, and he smiled at her apologetically as she handed him his card back.
      “Sorry, really, I - ”
      “Hey, stop it, alright? W-we all could use some more laughter, especially n-nowadays.”

      The stutter was back now, the nervousness surging through her as he, seemingly taken aback by her words, looked at her with a certain twinkle in his eyes before a smile spread over his face again. He’s cute.
      “I mean that.” Wanda hesitated as her mind started to wander. He’d leave now, and then she would, too, leaving this alley and this meeting behind them. She’d go back to her flat, back to the same old routine, and she’d likely never see him again. She wanted to, however, because something about him intrigued her and piqued her interest. Her lips moved before she knew it.
      “Hey, l - listen, can I do anything n-n-nice for you? Maybe invite you to a c-coffee or something?” What are you doing, Wanda?

      “You want to - ” He snorted with laughter but had himself under control almost immediately. “You want to go for coffee with me?” He looked at her, studying her like she was some sort of alien specimen, and she was immediately filled with regret. Stop being so fucking weird, Wanda. You’re just a stranger to him.

      “Yeah, only if you want to o-of course, didn’t want to make you feel uh-un-uncomfortable.” Her gaze escaped his, quickly turning her head towards the ground as she felt the embarrassment hit her.
      “No, no, you didn’t, no.” He’d taken a small step towards her as he gestured towards the main road anxiously. “There’s… there’s one around the corner, a diner I mean, if you really want to go.”
      His demeanour and the way he spoke were dominated by uncertainty, and she couldn’t help but smile again.
      “What, you think I’m just saying that?" 

      "No, it’s just…” Arthur paused, averting his eyes, and she could see that words had escaped him entirely. He let out a soft chuckle that was a bit louder than appropriate, took a deep breath and looked back up at her. “You’re pretty,” he blurted out and seemed momentarily shocked by the words he had spoken.
      Now it was Wanda’s turn to laugh at his timid tone and the faint blush that had spread across his cheeks.
      “No, you’re pretty!” She retorted, and his blush grew a deeper shade of red, confusion still apparent in his expression. He is pretty.

      “I’m sorry, I didn’t… I…” He laughed once more with his hand clamped across his mouth, but just a moment later he was fine, his face still flushed, but his voice back under his control. Wanda couldn’t suppress a chuckle of her own, simultaneously trying to mask how weird she felt about this whole interaction and how she’d felt herself turn red as well after his inept compliment.
      “Come on, let’s go.”

      The sharp pain that shot through Wanda’s leg as she moved to lead the way out of the side street came as a not-so-gentle reminder of her earlier slip-up, and she nearly collapsed with the shock that came with it. She’d completely forgotten about it while talking to Arthur. 

      "Fuck…“ she hissed under her breath as she caught her weight with one hand against the dirty brick wall and straightened up again.

      "You okay?” He stood just next to her, his hands extended in a helping gesture, but not quite touching her.

      "Yeah, I just… rolled my ankle earlier and I guess it’s worse than I thought.“ She let go of the wall, accepting his offered hand in hers. It was still cold, just as much as hers, but she felt warmth rolling all the way through her body from where their fingers touched, and felt positively taken aback by the effect he seemed to have on her just through his mere presence.

      He turned out to be stronger than she’d thought (judging by his lanky appearance), supporting her easily as she put her entire weight onto him, testing the limits of her injured ankle.

      "You really shouldn’t walk with that.” He asserted with sympathy as she took her first tentative steps, but Wanda soon found a way of walking that didn’t require help or make her gasp whenever the surprisingly painful repercussions of her twisted ankle made themselves noticeable.

      "It’s fine, I’ll be fine. You want to go?“ She lifted her head to nod at him and found herself once more intrigued her attraction to this strange man she’d met in a dark alleyway of all places.

      What’s his deal?

⁕