I stared at the note. My mind seemed blank with confusion and fatigue. There's no point in leaving, I thought sleepily. I wiped tears off of my face and slid into bed, clutching the paper close to my chest. Quiet sobs leaked through my slightly open mouth. My pillow was wet with my own feelings by the time I fell asleep.
I woke up in a daze, crust at the corners of my eyes where tears stained my face. The note was still in my hand- I squeezed it without opening my eyelids, as if to reassure myself that this scenario was real.
I sat up slowly and pried my brown eyes open, slipping my glasses back over the bridge of my nose. As soon as my vision cleared, something- no, someone- became visible.
I gasped and accidentally slammed my back against the bedframe. I had to blink a few times before realizing that I was not hallucinating- Oswald Cobblepot was sitting in the room, by the piano.
His hands were covering his facial features, twisted through his messy jet-black hair. I didn't think Oswald heard me when I realized he was here, but he slowly- almost hesitantly- lifted his head in my direction.
I could see him now; blue-green eyes avoiding mine, cheeks tinted red, lips chapped... He wore a simple long-sleeved black shirt and dark pants.
"H-hi, Ed," Oswald croaked.
What do I do? I ask myself silently. Do I hug him, talk to him, stab him, kiss him, or slap him? As thoughts rolled into my brain, so did memories.
"This will be the cold-blooded murder of someone you love!"
"I. Don't. Love you."
With shaking breaths, I managed to whisper five words- "I've missed you so much." I sprang off the bed and took small steps toward the sitting Penguin.
The corners of his mouth twitched, and his eyes lit up. Oswald's back straightened a little bit to look at me directly, but I noticed a small wince escape his mouth, although he tried desperately to hide the pain shooting through his stomach.
I had so many questions I wanted to ask- How did you survive? What made you realize that I regret shooting you? Do you forgive me? Do you still love me? Do you hate me?
I just wanted to run up to him and embrace the smaller man and just cry forever. I couldn't believe he was really with me.
"You must be pretty pissed," I whispered, almost childishly.
Oswald seemed surprised at the comment, looked down, and shifted his jaw in thought.
"What? About the fact that you... shot me?" He responded shyly. "I deserved it, Edward. I'm a coward-"
"Don't say that, that's not tr-"
"I am a coward. I was unable to sacrifice my happiness for yours because I'm so selfish. I'm so much of a coward, t-that I didn't even allow myself to die, Ed! I'm such a coward that... I took the knife off of you, the one tucked underneath your belt. I..." His voice trailed off.
My face burnt at Oswald's words. I didn't even notice him taking the weapon out from my waist, but the thought-the thought of Oswald pulling my sheets down and sliding the metal blade up from under my pant line- was enough to make me flush, despite the situation. I walked close to him, making him shift uncomfortably.
"Oswald. O-Oswald, I..." I stammer. "I don't care about those things. I am so glad that you're alive. And I'm so, so sorry for what I've done to you I'll do my best to rebuild our friendship... If not... I just want you to know..."
Oswald bit his lip nervously, waiting for me to continue. I sat next to him, causing our legs to touch. I felt happiness, sitting that close to him.
"I just want you to know," I repeated, "that I love you. I've loved you for a long time. I was blinded, and confused, you were right- I need you, and... I'm sorry." Before I knew it, I was a crying mess. Oswald grabbed both of my hands.
"I love you too," he said. Carefully, he wrapped his arms around me. I did the same to him, sure not to hurt him. I placed a soft kiss against his shoulder.
"You cannot have one without the other," I whispered.
*Should I continue this story? Comment please! :) Xoxo*
*If I were to continue writing this, should it consist of talking, sweetness, or should they encounter another obstacle or something like that?? Let me know ig*
YOU ARE READING
Edward doesn't feel the same after shooting Oswald. Without him, Ed finds himself crying to sleep at night- until it comes to his senses- Ed loves the man he killed. Is Oswald really dead? Will these two ever kiss and make up? Read to find out...