Chapter Text
Edward didn’t mean for it to happen. For a while, his crusade was the only thing on his mind. Most of the time he was too wrapped up in his scheming to pay much attention to other people. But as fate would have it, when he moved into the apartment down the street from the Iceberg Lounge he became neighbors with you.
He didn’t realize it initially. Your first interaction was not in your shared abode, but in the nearby diner in which you worked. In order to break up the day, Edward would occasionally come down for a coffee.
During his first few visits, your coworkers Claudine and Donna served him. Neither was rude to him (this was a tip-based profession, after all), but both adhered to the polite societal constraints that apply when interacting with strangers.
You, on the other hand, did no such thing.
“Hi! I’ll be your server for today. What can I get for you?” Edward, who had been staring out the window, was startled by your chipper tone and nearly jumped out of his skin. He watched you smile apologetically at his reaction. “Sorry about that, I’m not great at the whole indoor voice thing. You know how it is.”
No, he really didn’t.
“Of course,” he replied politely with a tight smile, trying for whatever reason to assuage your guilt.
“So, what do you want?”
He was almost taken aback by the question before he realized you were simply taking his order.
“Um, just a latte. Please.” Internally, he winced at the sound of his feeble voice. You didn’t seem to notice though, as you just nodded.
“Sure thing, I’ll have that right out for you. If you need anything, just holler for me,” you instructed cheerfully, tapping your nametag with your index finger. When you returned to the kitchen, he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.
There was a certain tension that coiled in his muscles whenever someone spoke directly to him like that. He wasn’t used to eye contact or one-on-one conversation. Truthfully, he wasn’t used to any kind of conversation without his mask to hide behind.
Edward shook away the discomfort and turned back to the newspaper in front of him, folding over the pages until he reached the crossword puzzle. It proved to be an effective distraction. Too effective, in fact, as he was so wrapped up in it that when you brought over his drink he startled again and nearly knocked it out of your hands.
“I’m sorry,” you sputtered, trying to hold in a laugh but still letting out a grin. “I’m making a bad habit out of sneaking up on you.”
“Not a problem,” he assured you quietly again.
With one last apologetic grin (and a nosy look at the crossword he was working on), you told him to let you know if he needed anything and walked away.
The next time you returned, he was more aware of his surroundings. Still, he didn’t realize you had a slice of pie in your hand until you placed it on the table in front of him.
Blinking in confusion, Edward turned to face you. “I, uh… didn’t order this.”
“Oh, yeah, I know. I just felt so bad about scaring you twice and I figured I should try to make it up to you so… pie.” Under his microscopic gaze, you gestured to the slice and continued to babble. “Tyler makes them fresh every morning. This is pumpkin, but if there’s something else you’d like I can get you that. And we’re not charging you or anything, to be clear. Just me apologizing and hopefully convincing you that this place might be worth coming back to.”
He blinked at you once again, and then mumbled, “Thank you. That’s very kind of you.”
At his words, your easy smile returned and he felt a strange twist in his stomach that made him look down at the pie to break eye contact. You smiled at him. You wanted him to come back.
At his job, people mostly ignored him apart from the occasional message to assign him tasks. There was something off about him that made people uncomfortable in his presence, like rabbits sensing a fox nearby. It used to hurt. Now, though, he could only darkly chuckle at how apt the simile proved to be.
But you... you weren’t like that at all, were you? Did you simply lack a sense of self-preservation? Or did your kindness outweigh any trepidation you felt?
Either way, he was intrigued.
If Edward was being honest with himself, the lattes were fine. The pies? Adequate. Altogether, the diner’s menu was nothing to write home about.
But the service, however, that’s what brought him back over and over.
At first he would only visit on Sunday mornings, simply observing your behavior. He noted with whom you interacted and ascertained whether your cheery demeanor was a front or in earnest. Did you smile for everyone like that? Or just him?
As the weeks passed by he began visiting more frequently. He felt like a pathetic little worm, keeping track of your schedule and making sure to throw in a visit or two when you weren’t on the clock just so your coworkers wouldn’t get suspicious. But oh, those days were agony. Still, abstaining was important. It kept him disciplined, focused.
But anxiety gnawed away at Edward on the days when he couldn’t observe you. Were you disappointed when he didn’t show? Or relieved? He feared you might find him irritating or unsettling.
But the more narcissistic optimistic part of him hoped that you might enjoy seeing him as much as he enjoyed seeing you.
You were certainly pleased enough to greet him by name when he arrived (you had taken to calling him “Eddie,” a nickname he normally despised — it didn’t sound that bad when it fell from your lips).
To his dismay, his budding interest turned into a burning crush. You consumed his thoughts, which became particularly frustrating when he was trying to work. One moment he was designing a death trap and then next he was imagining what you would say if he were to ask you out to dinner.
In his fantasies, he was a more confident, suave man. He would flirt with you, charm you, woo you. And if things went well, he would walk you home, kiss you at the doorstep with enough passion that you would invite him in, and once you made it back to your apartment…
He only entertained those kinds of thoughts when he was alone — it was too dangerous to think that way in front of you, lest certain bodily functions give his thoughts away.
After a particularly long day, he stopped by in the evening for the first time and stayed until closing. It was difficult to come up with excuses for why he spent so much time there. Most days he brought along a puzzle or a book to make it seem more like a routine. But truthfully, he was a lonely moon revolving around the bright sun that was you.
On this particular night, he was pondering another crossword when you leaned over his shoulder.
“Lecherous.”
His heart nearly stopped. “Pardon?”
You pointed to the clue, seemingly unaware of his panic. “Lewd or salacious. It starts with an L and ends in OUS, but that letter has to be an R so that knocks out lascivious and licentious — I think both of those are one letter too long anyway…"
“Oh, I see. Thank you.”
Misreading his discomfited tone, you sheepishly grinned. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to spoil it for you.”
It was something you did often, he noticed, this over-apologizing. Even when you hadn’t wronged someone, you tended to apologize for simply existing. It made his stomach churn, thinking about where the habit came from.
Did someone hurt you? A family member, a lover? Or was it religious in nature, like his own upbringing? Even now he squirmed remembering the nuns at the orphanage who drilled into him that almost every pleasurable action was sinful.
Realizing he was taking too long to respond, he quickly reassured you. “No, not at all! I was actually stuck on that one. The late hour must be getting to me.”
You smiled gratefully at Edward, and he once again felt a wave of pleasure knowing that he had made you happy.
“Sweetheart, I’m heading out for the night!” Tyler called from the now-closed kitchen. A flare of jealousy ignited within Edward at the cook’s pet name for you. “Do you mind locking up?”
“Sure thing, get home safely!” you replied. “Sorry, Eddie, looks like we gotta wrap this up.”
There she goes apologizing again, he mused. “Not a problem. I should be getting to bed anyway.” Edward wasn’t sure what compelled him, but before he could think his words through he blurted out, “Would you like me to walk you home?”
“What?” you asked, not having heard his question.
Alarmed that he might have just made a fatal error, Edward began stumbling over his words just as you realized what he asked and replied.
“Just because it’s so dark and late-”
“Yeah, that’d be great!”
“And Gotham isn’t really ever safe- oh.” He shut up when he realized you said yes. Though being raised by Catholics had driven every ounce of religion from his mind, he still sent up a silent thanks to whomever might have let the stars align this way.
“I’m just a short while away, so hopefully I won’t derail you too much from getting home.” You said bashfully as you locked up the diner and led the way. The path was obviously familiar, but he didn’t dare to hope until you stopped in front of his apartment building and said, “Well, this is me.”
And it was there, standing in front of the home you shared where he realized his feelings for you went far beyond a crush. That was where his real problem began.