O.C
———
Edward relays his riddle with a smug smile spread along his face. Oswald is not so amused. He walks up to Ed and lands a bitter blow with the palm of his right hand across the taller mans left cheek. Ed's smile dissolves and he glares at the fuming man in front of him.
He is infuriated. His blood boils throughout his body, burning up any sympathy for this mans previous 'vulnerabilities'.
"Ah! What was that for?" Ed grasps onto his red cheek and Oswald ignores the stinging sensation in his hand.
"What- what was that for? Are you-? Ugh! You're unbelievable!" Pent up anger pours out after weeks of being locked away.
"Me? I just told you I didn't want to kill you because I lo-"
"No! Don't you dare finish that sentence!" He screams at his opponent and throws his arms to his side.
How is this confusing for Ed? He hasn't spent the past 20 minutes with a man experiencing a plethora of emotions all at once. He hasn't spent weeks feeling betrayed by someone he thought he could trust again. He hasn't spent months grieving a friendship.
He flinches away from Ed trying to reach out to him, like a child evading a needle. Like a mouse dodging a snake. But that's exactly what Edward is- a poisonous snake whose fangs have sunk into his skin one too many times.
"Hear me out, Oswald. I didn't leave you in the bank on purpose. It was simply-"
"Simply what? Business? 'You mess with Lee, you mess with me', right? And where is Lee now? Hmm?" Sarcasm spills from his mouth in oceans, and it promises to drown Ed.
The Riddler looks down to his feet. Clearly his diamond in the ruff turned out to be a fake jewel. He holds in a laugh.
He wants to stay mad, but he can't be. He knows he can't be. This exactly what he wanted for a long time. And although he thought he'd moved past it, perhaps this is where he still wants to be.
He who claims to be a hurricane. He who claims to be a midsummer storm. He who is still in love with Edward Nygma.
E.N
———
Oswald has been quiet for a while. He can see the cogs turning in his brain. He can see the confliction flickering in his ocean eyes.
He didn't know he was going to say that. Apparently spontaneous impulse is something he still has to master. But, although it resulted in being hit, he's glad that his feelings are in the open. He's sick of staring longingly out of his green stained glass windows. He's sick of being played by people who can't comprehend his genius. He's sick of everyone trying to bring back Ed. He is not that man anymore and only Oswald knows that. Only Oswald understands that.
Oswald breathes an exasperated sigh. He can't do anything without dramatising it.
"How do I know this is real? Moments ago you said you had come here to kill me."
He bites down hard. He's embarrassed about that now. He wishes it didn't take almost assassinating Os to finally come out and say how he feels. But, just as he observed about Oswald, he can't do anything without making it dramatic. They are two peas in a toxic pod. A pod he shouldn't have been so quick to dismiss.
"I was hurt, Oswald. You killed Isabella and I was hurt." He feels the wound from the knife Oswald drove into his back. He truly did love Isabella- she understood him. She knew exactly what he was and who he was and didn't care. She wasn't scared of him. She was innocent and caring and he loved her.
"You were jealous of her-" Oswald goes to object but he is stopped by a warm palm on his cheek "and I understand why you you did it now. But at the time I was hurt and betrayed."
"So you killed me?" Oswald's voice is soft but impute. His heart is beating through his cheek erratically, and the broken look on his face outlines the cold feeling of deceit that this man has felt since that fateful day on the pier.
"I know what I did was wrong, but betrayal is a steel knife that you carved into my heart. Killing you was wrong, but killing Isabella wasn't right."
"I will admit that killing her out of spite was bad on my behalf." Oswald leans into the hand resting on his cheek. They both share eye contact for a long seven seconds without anger, without pain, without malice. But Oswald breaks it too soon by taking the hand on his face and lowering it.
"Why did you bring me here to kill me today?"
