Sweat beaded at the top of Edward's hairline. Images raced through his mind.
The gun, the weight of it in his hand, the recoil of the gun kicking against his wrist.
The wind against his face as he pulled the trigger.
Oswald's eyes, the way they shone.
With fear? With hurt? Edward hadn't decided what exactly the look was that still haunted him as he held the pill in his hands.
Hallucinogens, he thought.
He picked up his glass of wine and placed the pill onto the back of his tongue, quickly washing it down with his alcohol.
He sat back into the chair in front of the fireplace opposite the portrait.
The portrait for us.
Shortly after closing his eyes tightly shut and wiping the sweat beads at his hairline, he felt his mind swirl.
And then he heard him. The distinct shuffle of the limp. And oh, he could feel the gaze the hallucination was casting him through the tightly shut lids.
He quickly opened them, finding his best friend tailored in a well fitting black and white tux, unordinary. Edward noted the sudden shift in clothing. Normally not what the fake imposter would present himself in.
Normally Fake Oswald would appear to Ed as if he was very recently pulled out of the Gotham River. Seaweed, wet and grimey. But that wasnt the case now. He looked quite, dapper, handsome, Edward thought to himself.
"Hello, Ed." Fake Oswald said in a half snarled whisper. He turned to sit in the leather chair parallel to Ed's, resulting in them being eye to eye, face to face.
"Oswald." Edward regarded him with a half nod, at a loss for words, from Oswald's durastic change of appearance.
"That's it? That's all you have to say after taking an illegal substance that could kill you just to make me appear? And im not even real, Ed!" Fake Oswald said, raising an eyebrow, before letting his mouth return to a thin line, obviously annoyed.
"But - But -" Edward stood up quickly, ignoring his temporary loss for words. "Okay, Okay. You wanna talk, Oswald? How about what happened yesterday?" Edward choked out, slightly frustrated with himself. It wasnt like him to get worked up over something so small as this, but then again he was on drugs, wasnt he?
"Why, whatever do you mean, Edward?" Fake Oswald smirked, obviously noticing Edward's struggle with himself.
Edward paced taking quick glances at Fake Oswald every so often, his heart racing. "Oh, you know what I mean!" He barked, turning fully towards Oswald. "That little stunt you pulled! The singing! You were singing to me! What was it about, Oswald, tell me!" He yelled taking two short steps toward the Fake Oswald, closing the space between them. He quickly bent down before imposter Oswald could stand up to face him, placing his hands on either arm rests, trapping the Fake Oswald.
"I dont know, Ed. You tell me." He said simply, in a quiet tone. "I am apart of your psyche. I am just a concoction of your deepest darkest thoughts. I am just straight from the brain."
Edward growled, agitated with the audacity of Oswald's nonchalant response. Quickly, without any real thought, his hands lunged to Oswald's neck, pushing him farther back onto the chair.
Fake Oswald laughed, amused. "Or is it the heart, hmm, Eddie?" He grinned ear to ear.
"Fuck, why must you fuck with me?" He yelled into Fake Oswald's face. "What do you want from me?"
"Edward, you brought me here!" His grin instantaneously dropped back into the serious look he had once before had on his face. "You know why I'm here! You know why you want me here!" He sputtered out.
Ed's grip on Fake Oswald's neck loosened. "W-well," He stuttered. "I dont know! I dont know what i want! I just, I just miss not being alone! I miss having someone! Everyone always dies. everyone I love always leaves, Oswald." He leaned back, off of Fake Oswald, straightening his suit jacket, glasses and disheveled hair.
Fake Oswald just stared as Edward continued. "Kristen, gone. Isabelle, gone. You, Oswald, gone." Tears threatened to leak down his face but Edward held them back.
"And it's all my fault," His voice cracked as Imposter Oswald swiftly stood up.
"Ed, I may not be real, but I know whats really inside you deep down. But you have to see it for yourself. You have to find it." Edward looked down into Fake Oswalds eyes.
"You didn't even realize it, did you?" The Fake Oswald asked.
"W-what? Realize what?"
"Isabelle. You said 'Isabelle,' Ed."
Edward's mouth gaped as he realized his mistake. "Isa-Isabelle. Isabella," Ed whispered.
"I would say that I'm sorry, Ed. But I'm not Oswald. I'm your psyche. Your thoughts," He whispered. "But in all honesty, its true, isnt it? You do pity yourself. We all do, nowadays, dont we?" Was all the imposter said before leaning up to kiss the taller man.
Edward leaned into the kiss, it was warm, unlike how he expected it to be. But then he felt the sudden absence upon his lips, and opened his eyes, dissapointed to see an empty room. Just him, the crackling fireplace, and the portrait.
The portrait for us, he thought.
As he touched his lips, still fuzzy from the affection, he felt the tears finally slip down his cheek.
