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With each step, my heart beat sped up. I felt the cool metal of my switchblade against my skin, underneath my clothing. Beads of cold perspiration seemed to appear out of nowhere as I neared my old home. Oswald, I thought quietly, please be here.

I cursed myself under my breath, knowing my thoughts were wrong. Oswald had to die... for what he did to Isabella... right? In the back of my head, all I could hear was:
No, no, no. Oswald, Oswald, Oswald. Memories, memories... memories. What a stupid, unintelligent thought process- and  it's even worse that all I feel is guilt... and love.

Before I knew it, I was standing in front of my apartment door- a sliding, metal, tempting door. I resisted the urge to knock joyfully in hopes to find the man I love. Instead, I took a deep breath and straightened out my face, and slid the door open- rather loudly. I nearly sprinted inside.

I found myself in the center of our old home. I turned slowly in a circle, taking in all the details and memories as best I could. Nothing had changed- when I went to Arkham, this place had just been... abandoned. With a pang I realized; I'm alone.

I slugged onto my bed, which was folded, as it was left. I buried my face into my hands, not knowing what to feel. I felt something wet against my palms- I had been crying without even realizing it. I slowly brought my feet over the bed sheets and found my way under them. I was drained- both emotionally and physically.

When I leaned my head against the pillow, I heard the crunch of paper. I slid my hand underneath the pillow and felt for... a note? I rushed to pull it out- it was colored dark blue with a tiny purple heart on it.

I tore it open with anxiety and carelessness. In cursive writing, it read;

When you got sent to prison, I made sure that no one did anything to this apartment. In case you ever felt like moving out of the mansion, your old home was always accessible- and still is, although I doubt that's in your interest. I'm glad you came here, at least you care enough to try to encounter me. I imagine you brought a weapon with you, understandable... I hope that it won't come in handy when we do see each other.
Edward... You have two choices. You can sleep restfully here in the bed we once shared, and I will be here when you wake. Or, you may leave.
(Sleep well, you don't deserve restless nights.)


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