~Like a tongue, tongue~

Gotham has always been one big problem. It's a wonder that all the people haven't moved out of this hole yet. Although, it is a refuge for all those who society would call "abnormal", right? That's the reason you came here, isn't it?

~In my ear drum, dum-dum~

None of the other "villains" (or just psychos, let's be honest) appealed to you at all. Catwoman? Um... Not enough information, perhaps. Two-Face? You're more suited to those whose character does not depend on a coin. Same story with the Riddler. Mad Hatter? The risk of being hypnotized does not suit you. The Joker is... The Joker.

~Music boyfriend, I'm your yum-yum~

But there was one place, where the Gotham storm was replaced by a coastal wind, the sound of gunshots became something acceptable, your hands stopped shaking like after a jackhammer, and your head constantly turned to look around. Life on the evil side had become an unfamiliar routine for you, and he was a dirty light in it, a ray of a dying star, a drop of honey in a barrel of tar - Oswald. Your Oswald . And even now, after you've gotten into major trouble, causing this damn warehouse to burn, your whole body aching, every part of you screaming to get out of not just this particular nightmare, but Gotham in general, if not America, you can't take your eyes off those blue-gray eyes, sparkling with passion, but also with incredible love. For you. After another shot, you jumped on him without thinking, knocking him down and ending up on top, hanging over Cobbpolt and now trying to catch your breath along with him. All you could squeeze out was “why did you come?”.

Oswald exhaled loudly with a light, nervous laugh, shouting so that it could be heard over the gunfire - “Call me and I'll come!” - and then he pressed you to his chest so that the hail of shots would not hit you.