Just Relax.

Jonathan rested his index finger between his pursed lips. One leg was rested over the other, and he sat straight in his chair. He nodded his head and hummed quiet “hmm”s in agreement. He was meant to be paying attention to Harvey, but with the day dragging on as it was, he was far beyond caring about anything that was coming out of the pretty blondes mouth.. More about what he could shove in it. Something about mobsters in Arkham, if he had wrongly admitted them.. He could take dear Harvey to visit them, if he wanted. Who, including Harvey, could argue that grown men whimpering, crying, huddled into corners whispering “Scarecrow” were not insane? Men, who have killed, maimed and tortured, at that.

He watched Harvey get up from his chair across the dark oak desk, eyeing his crotch as his swanky hips moved out of the way of the chair’s arm. Jonathan moved his finger from his lips to push his designer glasses up the bridge of his nose, and he nodded again to whatever nonsense Harvey was coming out with. Harvey began pacing, his hands moving to emphasise his speech. Jonathan felt a twinge of curiosity, and wondered, just for a second, what it would be like to psychoanalyse Harvey.

Harvey sighed and turned to face Jonathan again. “I’m sorry. I need to relax,” he sighed, and Jonathan’s lips plucked into a sly smile. ‘If only he knew how I’d help him relax’, he thought to himself.