(Y/n)

I horridly walked, I was quite alarmed by the conversation I had with Edward, why couldn't he have taken no for an answer?

I felt quite bad for using a real-life murderer as an excuse to not walk with him. Full disclosure, Edward made me uncomfortable. He was awkward, and that made me awkward. I was always a social person but when confronted with a socially awkward person, I get all itchy and I just want to run away.

That conversation however had me thinking:

Could he be him?

I shake my head in dismay. Probably not, if he couldn't hurt Sugar how could he even kill someone?

I was probably overdoing it when I said I would call the police. It's not like I could call them anyway. I just didn't know how other way to put it. Oh gosh, I probably broke his heart even more than if I had told him the truth. I'm always screwing this up, aren't I? I lower my head in shame, feeling guilty. Now it's probably my time to put a letter in his mail slot. I smile at the memory of Edward petting Sugar through the mail slot. It was weird...but I'm glad he did it, otherwise I wouldn't have heard him out.

He was quite sweet I don't know why I've convinced myself that he's a creep. Perhaps I'm judging a book by its cover? I won't lie his looks aren't the most...attractive. But I can still see myself dating him if I get to know him more. I furrow my brows.

The fuck am I talking about?

Why am I thinking about dating him, am I that man-deprived? I don't think so. I mean there's nothing all that significant about him other than his glasses, and his brown eyes that looked like honey depending on how the light hit them. His fluffy light brown hair suited his character perfectly. His awkward smile...and the way he took care of the cuts on my legs with such care and fondness. I feel a shiver run down my spine as I remember the tingling sensation when his fingertips graze my leg ever so slightly.

Ugh

There's no use daydreaming about him now, I pretty much messed up my chance with him approximately five minutes ago. I sigh to myself. I quickly stepped up the stairs to my apartment room and was greeted by Sugar at her food bowl, demanding to be fed.

Too bad I made Edward upset someone needs to feed Sugar while I'm on my night shift.

I relax on my couch and turn on the news.

The Riddler's next clue!

I watched the news with my jaw agape. The story of the Riddler kept getting wilder and wilder.

"Are you seeing this shit Sugar?"

I heard the noise of Edward's door closing. I sigh as I'm forced to remember the distress I probably caused him.

I should probably talk to him...

I furrow my brows as loud music can be faintly heard. What the hell was he doing in there?

Edward

On the news, I saw that my second Riddle was a success. And as expected, He was there. I was now one step closer to my plan. For me...this caused a celebration. Once I had gotten to my apartment, I went to my stereo and turned it on. Music started blasting from it, sending me an instant euphoria. I cranked the volume up twenty percent. I traveled to the kitchen and opened the fridge grabbing not one, but two bottles of beer. I didn't drink much. For if I did it would cause me to build an immunity towards it, thus making the effects of the alcohol lessen. I used other methods of coping–like browsing the internet for explicate content. The pleasure helped with the pain of my loneliness.

I go to my office and grab my laptop then travel back to my living room where I made myself comfortable.

I opened it up and immediately started tapping away. Going to the cities database I typed in a few things.

__ __

And click enter–to my surprise, she didn't pop up. I furrow my brows in confusion as I saw that the resident living next to me did not resemble __ at all. Instead, it belonged to a woman named Selina. Whoever she was, it didn't take a genius to figure out that she was paying for __'s lease instead of her.

How intriguing.

After doing more research I found out that there's no record of her in the Gotham period.

I hummed in delight at my newfound discovery.

She was either going by a different name, and she couldn't afford an apartment by herself, so her friend paid for it, for her. Or–the obvious, she immigrated to Gotham...Illegally. My lips curled into a smile, this certainly was interesting. For her to get a job she must have verification that she lives here. Since she doesn't...well that's where things get even more intriguing. She must use false identification to work anywhere, unless she's doing prostitution, or some other sketchy job like that. And if she were to be discovered...not only would she get deported to her origin. But she would face Gotham charges for false identity. Which is approximately two months. Which isn't alot. But after two months she would have to be deported. Meaning the false life she's been living would have been for nothing. And she would have to start from scratch in her country of origin.

So with the information I've gathered up so far, I had concluded that she was not a threat.

If she would report me to the police that would mean she had to give her information to the police, and when they find out she's not in the database...then all the things I stated before will happen. If she reported me...that would also mean reporting herself. I guess how she fled her country, but I doubt she wants to go back.

I laugh and take a swig of my alcoholic beverage. It burnt, as it slid down my throat, and my stomach tingled as it set there.

I lean back into my couch, relaxing myself even further, and before I knew it, both of my beers were gone, and the effects had yet to set in. I groan in frustration and hesitantly get up.

I had to go to the store and get more.

I got up and left my apartment to go to the liquor store.

(Y/n)

The music thunderous music coming from Edward's room stopped and I heard him leave. Where is he going?

I shrug and go back to my TV watching.

It was about three o'clock and my shift ended two hours ago. I began feeling bored. I had no other job I could go to. The 44 below literally almost killed my first day of working there. No way in hell am I going back there. I remembered the way the men had restrained me, and I shivered.

I need something to do.

Sugar gets up suddenly and heads to the door. I sigh, not wanting it to be Edward this time. And fortunately, it wasn't. It was just the regular mailman. A couple of envelopes lay on the ground and I picked them up. All of which were addressed to Selina, luckily it was all just magazines and junk mail. I couldn't get mail, because legally, I didn't own this place Selina did, and she was the one paying for my lease.

I continue flipping through the mail but then I stop.

Edward Nashton

I swallow and examine the note–it had no title on it, or anything getting on what it was. I held the mail in my hand, bewildered on how to handle the situation. I shrug.

Suppose I could just give it to him.

I grab my keys to unlock my door and walk across the hall to Edwards's room. I knock a couple of times, to no avail. I sigh and squat down, feeding the mail through the mail slot. I gasp when my keys fall in with it. Grumbling to myself I debated on what to do. I sat there still squatting like an ape trying to figure out how to open a banana. I shove my hand through the mail slot and wave my hand around trying to feel for my keys. The mail slot was too high from the door, and my arm was too big to reach any further.

"Fuck," I breathe out. I run my fingertips through my hair and attempt one more time, still fishing for my keys. My fingertips brush against the metal loop of my keys and I gasp in response. I attempted to shove my hand further even if it hurt.

"Ahem..." a random voice said. I scream and whip my head to the source. Embarrassment immediately flooded my cheeks. Edward stood a few inches from me with a bewildered expression on his face.

"Uh-" I try to talk but nothing comes out.

Well, this is fuck embarrassing.

"I was just-ugh trying to get my keys from your room," I say, meanwhile struggling to pull my arm out of the mail slot.

Edward cocks a brow at me. "Why are your keys in my room?" he quizzes. I feel myself getting more embarrassed by the second.

"The mailman gave me your mail so I tried giving it back but my keys fell in and..."

"Ah,"

He stood there looking at my beet-red face. "Can you...can you help..." I sigh and look to the ground ashamed. Edward places his plastic bag on the floor and pulls out his keys to unlock his door. I move back as he opens the door and can feel him grabbing my hand and examining it.

I feel my bottom and top lip press together.

Edward peeks his head from behind the door.

"Does it hurt when I do this:" he pushes his palm against mine pushing it through the door. I wince slightly as the pain wasn't as faint as I would like it to be but I just tolerated it.

"No- OW- shit!" I cut myself off when he tries twisting it slightly to get it out.

"Sorry-sorry, are you ok"

"Yeah...just...I got an Idea."

"What is it?"

"I pull, and you push at the same time ok?"

"Ok,"

I could feel him getting a better grip on my hand. One of his hands was wrapped around my wrist and the other held my palm, with his thumb in the front and the rest of his fingers resting on the back.

"Ok..." I breathe out.

"On three?" Edward asks.

"Sure...one...two...three,"

My hand slides out of the mail slot, but it is easier than expected, and I roll back hitting my head on the ground.

"Agh," I groan out in pain.

"We did it!" Edward exclaims. And he peeks his head around the door. "Oh, __ are you ok?" he pushes himself off the ground and walks over to me, he holds his hand out for me to talk and I get up with his support.

"Thanks..." I mumble.

"No problem, here's your keys," he holds them out for me to take and I do.

"Thanks again," I chuckle a bit, and he chuckles slightly in return.

And perusal there was another awkward silence of us just looking around and trying to figure out what to say or do. It was situations like these that I hated the most. "I got a new case of beer if you..." Edward trails off. He's not looking at me but at the ground. What an odd guy. "I...uh, what the occasion?" I inquire. That was a hard question because I saw Edward open his mouth to speak several times but close his mouth. "You know what- Sure," the bag next to me crinkles and rattles as I pick it up and walk past Edward to his apartment.