cold eyes|nygmobblepot

Chapter Eleven|I don't care as long as it's you who annoys me

Edward frantically searched through the clothing Oswald had bought for him, gathering in a pile beside it everything he knew he'd need. He wanted to be generally well-dressed for this, he figured he couldn't confess to Oswald in a sweater, he wanted this to be special. He didn't really have a well-thought out plan, which regularly he wouldn't go through with something as momentous as this if he didn't, but he couldn't see himself sticking to one. He'd avoid Oswald for the majority of the night, appear out of nowhere, ask him to dance, and figure out the rest as it happened.

And if Zsasz happened to meddle with any part of it... Edward had warned him he wouldn't be civil if the time came. He couldn't possibly imagine Zsasz being the target of Oswald's affections, Edward thought jealously. He'd saved Oswald's life, nursed him back to health... He figured he'd make the most sense. Of course, if Oswald simply wasn't interested in Edward, Edward knew he should simply let Oswald be. But everyone seemed to think Oswald loved him back. Edward had his doubts. But it was worth a try.

He finally found the blazer he'd been looking for, setting everything aside for later. Perhaps he could devise a plan before the party. He was Edward Nygma, after all, it would be uncharacteristic for him not to. Tie everything back to a riddle, Edward asking Oswald if he believed in fate... There it was.
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Edward noticed the bathroom door was open, stepping into the doorway to find Oswald standing in front of the mirror, very carefully brushing something dark and purple close to his eyelids.

Oswald noticed him through the mirror, eyes glancing back towards him, pausing. Edward bit his lip. "What is that?"

"Eyeshadow," Oswald replied unenthusiastically, continuing to brush the substance, "haven't your girlfriends been interested in makeup?"

"What girlfriends?" Edward chucked nervously, following with an awkward silence. "No. I don't know anything about makeup."

Oswald made a tsk noise, dipping the brush into what appeared to be purple glitter, bringing it up to his eyelids. "You mean you've never had a girlfriend?"

Edward didn't know why Oswald seemed so interested in the topic. "Yes. I didn't stay with them long enough to get introduced into makeup, if that's what you're asking."

Oswald ignored him, turning to face him, even though Edward had seen him in the mirror. "How does it look?"

Edward bit his lip again, raising an eyebrow. How am I supposed to know if it's good or not? "It looks fine. Very... Purple." Oswald sighed as though Edward's comment meant nothing, facing the mirror again, grabbing what appeared to be a pen. Edward thought perhaps he should understand Oswald's interests a bit more. "What are you doing now?"

"Adding wings," Oswald said, very precisely making a sharp line from his eyelid to past his eye, filling it in, "eyeliner."

Edward couldn't think of anything relevant to say, deciding to simply watch Oswald apply it on his other eye. "How long have been doing this?"

"Oh, years," Oswald purred, "my mother taught me." He paused, studying himself in the mirror before turning to Edward again. "How do I look?"

Edward wasn't exactly... thinking. "Pretty." He said without hesitation before catching himself. "Um, I mean, it looks pretty good."

Oswald only smiled in response. "Please, please tell me you've made up your mind about going to the party."

I'll go. Only if you stay with me the whole time." Edward purred, raising an eyebrow. If any of my advances haven't pasted as more than friendly yet, I don't think they ever will.