Wild Cards

Chapter 6: Bad Luck

When I wake up the next morning, I hear a steady heartbeat beneath my left ear.  I blink several times before realizing that my head is resting atop Arthur's chest, his slow rhythmic breathing the only sound that can be discerned as I return to consciousness.

I gently prop myself up to get a better view of him in the morning light cascading from my window.  At this point, I notice that his left arm is draped across my body, a movement that must have occurred as our combined exhaustion accordingly led to a peaceful slumber.

And Arthur certainly looks at peace while asleep.  Instinctively, I lean over to examine his gorgeous face, a hint of a smile playing on his beautiful lips.  I hope the cause of this is a happy dream.  He certainly doesn't deserve any more nightmares constructed by the scum of this city who relentlessly beat him down.

Feeling the need to comfort and protect him, I reach out and gingerly brush his messy curls to the side so they don't obscure his tender features that I cherish so much.  I trail the back of my knuckles down his face, all the way to his jawline and let them linger there for a moment.

"Mmm..." Arthur hums in content at my touch and it makes my heart swell with joy to know the profound effect I have on this man.

He hardly moves, but squeezes his eyes shut tighter before blinking rapidly and then finally focusing on my face above him.  His entrancing green eyes connect with mine.

"Hi," I whisper, smiling shyly and biting my lip in amusement at his slightly surprised face.

"Hi," he whispers back, his voice even more raspy than usual from sleep.  He smiles goofily at me and I laugh.

"What?" I ask him.

"I... I thought last night was a dream.  I could've sworn I was dreaming.  I couldn't believe that..."

His unfinished sentence only leads to more questions.  I desperately want to know what he's thinking and how he genuinely feels about me.  So much of Arthur Fleck is still a mystery to me.

I place my hand on his chest, right over his wildly beating heart.  "What couldn't you believe?"

Arthur drags his arm away from my waist and places his hand over mine.  "That you were real," he answers simply.

With my left hand, I grasp the one covering my right and place his palm against my cheek, firmly holding it there.

"I'm real, Arthur," I state.  "And I'm right here with you."

His smile widens as I convince him that the delusion doesn't exist.  That the reality is the two of us, finally together. Happy together.

Shortly after gazing at each other in wonder and amazement, I roll onto my side next to him, running my fingers along his shoulder, tracing every wrinkle of his thin, button-up shirt.

A question about last night surfaces in my mind.  "So... why exactly were you fired?"

I glance up at his face just in time to see him cast his eyes down at the white sheets beneath us, almost shamefully but also angrily.  And I've never seen him angry before.

"If you don't mind me asking?" I carefully add.

"Randall," he replies, matter-of-factly.

"Who?"  He's never mentioned this name before, but he says it with disdain.

He decisively brings his gaze to mine.  "Randall, my co-worker, lied to my boss about me.  And my boss didn't like me very much to begin with anyway..."

"I'm sorry," I tell him sincerely, soothingly rubbing his arm again.  "I guess we've both got bad luck because I was fired, too.  Weird, huh?"

"Yeah," he mumbles, looking at me with sorrowful eyes.  "I'm sorry to hear that."

"Don't worry, we'll figure it out," I reassure him.  "On the bright side, you cheered me up by making last night one of the best moments of my life."

Arthur's brilliant smile returns at my honest words.  "I did?"

I nod and my cheeks flush bright red when he smirks at me, a sudden burst of confidence radiating from him.

I cover my face with my hand and release a giggle.  "Stop doing that!"

"Doing what?" I hear him question.

"Smiling at me like that.  I can't handle it sometimes.  It's too adorable."

He laughs lightly.  "You think I'm adorable?"

I remove my hand from my eyes and my breath hitches in my throat when I find that his face has inched closer to mine.  I can feel his warm breath fanning across my skin.  His familiar scent invades my senses and I have to fight the urge to throw myself at him.

"Yes," I whisper, our lips mere centimeters apart now.

Unfortunately, before they can collide, Arthur and I jump at the sound of incessant knocking on my door, followed by the soft voice of an elderly woman.

"Happy? Are you in there?"