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Claiming him

Queenie

Joker opens my door for exactly ten minutes. He is efficient, and even though that normally would please me. I pour another drink, hoping the burn of the bourbon will calm me down. The first one has done nothing to calm the rage I feel. The asshole moves closer to me, and that damn mark on his neck taunts me once more. It taunts me as I think of all the reasons she must be better than me. I grip my glass tight, and before I know it, I let my anger win as I launch it at his head.

Joker’s quick reflexes kick in, and he ducks out of the way, and the glass connects to the wall, shattering. He knows what I am annoyed with and scoffs. “Seriously? How often have I had to see you get fucked or even hear it?” He moves so I am in his sight, and I can’t believe he is starting this conversation. I figured he would want to tiptoe around it like he normally does. He is the expert at dodging complicated issues with us.

“That’s different, and you know it! I didn’t want to be with any of t
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