The night felt quiet as the two were walking down the narrow and damp alleyway, lit just barely by the flickering orange glow of a busted streetlamp on the other side of the path. Joker's shadow stretching onto the brick walls around as he walked, each step was calm, deliberate. His leather boots echoed against the cold pavement. But the sound of the second set of footsteps never stopped once.

He let out a sigh, low and smoky, pulling the cigarette out of is mouth as he turned his head just by a bit, not enough to be considered as looking back. Just enough to let the annoyance spill in the air like the smoke which he exhaled.

"Stop following me like a lost puppy," he murmured, voice flat and worn thin by repetition. "I don’t do attachments. Not yours, not anyone’s."