Smile - Joker Leto Fanfiction - {BWWM} - {COMPLETE}

E L E V E N

~ I Forgive You ~
~ day 20 ~
• C H E Y E N N E •

I hadn't slept after I left Joker's house last night. I walked around in the darkness for a while before I finally returned to my apartment. The sun was just beginning to rise when I finally got home. Outside of the apartment, was a moving van, with nothing much in it except my old mattress and Damon sitting comfortably on top of it, waiting for me. It was moving day. There were no real words exchanged between us, just one big hug that was much needed. Once I felt his arms wrap around me, my mind had completely cleared. I forgot about what happened with Joker, I forgot about my nightmares, I forgot about being sad.

Damon even came to keep me company while thousands of dollars worth of furniture poured into my new penthouse. It was gorgeous. There were windows that stretched from floor to ceiling and a winding spiral staircase that led up to my bedroom, armory, and the secret room where I was supposed to keep Joker. The walls were dark and so were the floors, the furniture was modern and comfortable and the floorplan was wide open. It was everything I had envisioned.

"You have something on your face," Damon says, staring at me from across the living room. I look away from the many moving men moving in my new furniture and glance at Damon. The look on his face was strange. Although we had been reminiscing about old times all morning, laughing at times, his demeanor was off. He walks over to me slowly, his arms crossed. I watch him as he extends his arm, wiping a spot under my bottom lip. "Red lipstick?"

I press my lips together, bringing my hand to my lips and turning away from him. I thought I got it all off. I shake my head, denying anything he may or may not be thinking. I can't even make a valid excuse. There was no explanation except that I was just kissing Joker a few hours ago. I attempt to avoid it at all cost, walking into the kitchen, but that doesn't stop him from following me. "Cheyenne, is there anything you want to tell me?"

I almost stop in my tracks, wondering what he was getting at. Although he had come to my apartment last night and with me into my new place in an attempt to console me, I hadn't told him anything at all. Nothing about the club, nothing about me dancing, especially nothing about Belle Reve. Especially nothing about Joker. I had to make sure to avoid talking about him at all costs. I sit up on the island, shrugging my shoulders as casually as I could. "No," I sigh and swing my legs, watching as he stands right in front of me and stares up at me expectantly. "Why?"

"Because I saw you go into that nightclub last night," he states, his gaze on me harsh. My legs stop swinging, realizing he had followed me.

"Why were you following me?" I ask him, my tone harsh. He scoffs, his arms crossing again. I couldn't fathom why he might be mad at all. He wasn't the one being stalked.

"Why are you lying to me?" He asks, furrowing his eyebrows at me. I raise my eyebrows at him, surprised that he even thinks that my personal life is any of my business. "If you're that desperate for money-"

"No one lied to you, Damon," I say, jumping off the counter and rounding the island to get away from him. I lay my hands flat on the cold surface of the slate-top island. "And I am not desperate for money. What I do in my off time is none of your business. It hasn't been for years. Remember?"

His expression softens, an annoyed sigh coming from him as he drops his head in defeat. I lick my lips, watching as he has a quiet debate with himself. I hated holding things over the heads of the people I loved, but that's what I did best since I was 13. It was my defense mechanism when I moved to Gotham, the only thing to get people off my back. My head begins to hurt slightly, tired of arguing with people in my life, tired of being conflicted. He stands straight, coming to stand next to me. I watch him hesitantly, letting him take my hand in his own. His hands were just as soft and warm as I remembered them and I couldn't resist the urge to squeeze his hand as he spoke. "How many times do I need to apologize?"