Gotham Imagines

Met With Silence

Jerome x Reader

Day One
"Hi gorgeous, I'm Jerome!" he says, slamming his palms onto the table as he slides into the seat across from you.
Looking up from, you inspect the inmate before you. He was new here at Arkham, carted in only a few days ago. The moment you saw him, you knew he was...different. There was simply something about him, something he possessed underneath all the crazy...a sort of fire that most people here didn't have.
Jerome replies to your silence with a joking remark. "The silent treatment, eh? Don't you worry, I'll get you to talk."
A laugh emerges from your nose as a small puff of air. It was funny that he thought that, for you hadn't talked in years, which was part of why you were stuck in this dank prison.

Day Two
He approached you in the same situation once again, with you at a table and him coming over.
"Hey there sweet-cakes, care to talk now? The guards told me your name was Y/N, is that true?"
You hesitated but nodded slowly. In all honesty, there was something intriguing about the buy before you. His fiery hair, his charismatic presence, his booming laughter...it all caught your attention in a very peculiar way.
"Nothing, not even a peep? Fine, that's cool, whatever..." It was clear your meager behavior was taking a toll on him; it was only his second attempting to speak with you and he already had shown signs of frustration.
Jerome stood abruptly and climbed onto the seat. "Y/N, I SWEAR I will get you to speak!" he announced to the whole room.
You buried your head in your arms. Yeah right, J.

Day Three
The back-and-forth interactions between you two were officially becoming regular as he sat down on the bench across from you in the same spot at the same table for the third time since since his arrival. This time you didn't even bother looking up.
"Good morning, Y/N!" he started playfully, stretching out the 'good' much longer than it needed to be in your opinion. "Nice to see you again!" he continued, followed by a hardy laugh.
There was a long period of soundlessness as Jerome inspected your face. You fiddled with your thumbs under the table, mainly avoiding eye-contact but looking up every now and then to seek his intentions.
Then, all of a sudden, he broke into conversation: "How'd you get in here? I killed my mom. You know how it is with moms...they just don't stop. Nag, nag, nag, all day!" Jerome became more animated in smiles and hand gestures as he talked passionately on the subject. "I just needed her to stop, ya know? So one day, I MADE her stop..."
This sparked an eye-roll for you. How much cornier can this get? He was beginning to get on your nerves.
In that moment, something broke inside of you. You totally disregarded the silence that you had swam in for the past years, and busted your automatic streak just to say one thing. "Maybe silence is good for you..."
His ocean eyes shimmered and he leaned in from across the table in one split-second to plant a kiss directly on your lips. Then, Jerome sat back down, his cheeks as red as fresh apples, he agreed. "Yeah, maybe it is..."