Arthur Fleck and Joker Imagines

Arthur and the English Rose

Warning: Fluff. Mention of blood.

Every day he would see her, he could set his watch by her. Every day she would walk past, and every day she would smile at him. It wasn't a small smile; it was one of those smiles that seemed to spread from ear to ear; a large, beautiful, genuine smile.

She was always well dressed, a beautiful long black coat that brushed the sidewalk draped itself around her shoulders shielding her from the inclement Gotham weather. Her long black hair was always pinned up into a bun with a few loose strands falling down framing the alabaster skin of her face; her light make-up made her look even more stunningly beautiful than she already was.

Today seemed like any other day, Arthur was on the sidewalk happily twirling his sign and dancing around; he was waiting for his lady to show. He looked at his watch, not much longer now and she would walk past and smile that smile; the smile that made the butterflies in his stomach flutter uncontrollably.

As he drifted along with his thoughts, he suddenly felt that the sign in his hand had gone. He looked around to see some kids running away with it; without a second thought Arthur gave chase following the small group through the streets, the pursuit ending down a secluded alleyway. Suddenly Arthur found himself on the floor, the splinters of his sign all around him as a barrage of kicks viciously bombarded his slender frame.

As Arthur lay on the ground arms pulled around himself, he heard a voice yell out.

"HEY! GET AWAY FROM HIM YOU LITTLE SHITS!"

Arthur held his head, still waiting for another barrage of kicks, but instead heard the sound of multiple feet run away and then another come towards him. Arthur tensed as he felt a hand gently touch his shoulder.

"Oh my god, are you alright?"

Arthur looked up to see who his saviour was; to his shock and embarrassment, it was her, it was his lady.

"Look at what they've done to you, your bleeding." She said, looking at his face.

Arthur was lost; lost in her beautiful eyes, and her beautiful voice.

"Mr. Clown, where do you live? I have to get you cleaned up."

"A-a-a-arthur, my name is Arthur." He managed to stutter out before telling her his address.

She furrowed her brow. "Oh dear, that's too far away; I'll take you to the studio and clean you up."

She helped him up from the floor, apologising profusely when he winced in pain as she placed his arm over her shoulder, and helped him walk through the streets until they came to a very fancy looking artist studio. Once they were inside Arthur found himself sat in a back room where it was obvious that the artist did their work. He looked around at all the paintings on the walls and he couldn't help but admire the talent of the artist.

"Well what do you think? Do you like them?"

Arthur turned around to see her return with a bowl of water and medical supplies.

"What do I think of what?" Arthur replied slightly confused.

"My paintings silly, I saw you looking. I know some of them might look a little dark, but that's what I'm known for; my cliental seem to like the dark subject matter."

"Y...you're the artist?" Arthur asked.

She let out a small chuckle. "Of course, this my studio."

She took her coat off and rolled up her sleeves, Arthur could see that her hands and arms were covered in little flecks of different coloured paint that were in such contrast to her pale skin.