Touch Me, I'm Sick. || Edward Nashton x Reader || He/Him

<1> I'm so sorry.

Storm clouds loomed over Gotham constantly, filling the city with some form of permanent gloom that locked sadness into the bodies of its inhabitants. There was something common among many of the people who lived there in Gotham— the world was about as gray as an old-fashioned movie.

Rain tapped against the glass of the bookstore that I had been lurking in for the past half an hour. I couldn't find anything I liked the idea of.

I just wanted to get back into reading— like I was when I was younger before technology began to consume the majority of my time on this earth. I loved being on the internet, but it was about time I ground myself. It was about time I connected to something real.

That was my hope for the next book that I was going to read. I wanted it to bring me back to Earth.

It wasn't for another quarter hour that I had figured out what I wanted, sliding it onto the counter that was guarded by a frail-looking teenage boy. Acne covered his cheeks, eyebags showing he had probably been staying up late at night. I couldn't gather whether it was from gaming too long or studying too long just by looking at him, but I knew it was one of the two.

He was much taller than me, and he looked down at me almost uncomfortably as he scanned the barcode on the book and turned his head to the cash. He pushed up the wire-framed glasses that had been sliding down his nose for the last minute before he announced the price.

Not too bad, considering rising prices.

I placed thirty dollars cash into his hand and he looked over it for a little longer than I liked, almost as if he didn't trust that I was paying with real money.

It was raining, having just started moments after I entered the shop. The weather forecast has been wrong yet again. You'd think they'd just automatically assume rain by now.

You'd think I would have remembered to bring an umbrella habitually.

I left the store, stuffing the change into my jacket pocket as I sheltered the book from the rain. My eyes peered up into the sky, ignoring the threat of a water droplet to the eyes.

I started to jog, wanting to get out of the rain as quickly as possible, passing a couple of miserable-looking individuals as my hair grew wetter, regret seeping into my flesh like that was all my skin would breathe.

While my head was turned, I slammed right into something— someone— barely cushioned by the blue puffy fabric that quickly fell away with the person who was wearing it. I let out a sharp sound as I knelt next to him, hand placed on his back as I profusely apologized.

"Sorry! Sorry, I-I... I wasn't looking where I was going, that's my fault." I stammered, helping the fallen person get up onto his feet. He was taller than me— not as tall as the cashier in the bookshop (who must have been six foot seven, based on how he towered over me)— but tall enough that I had to look up at him.

His hair looked like it was wetter than mine, even though they were the same level at this point. It was stuck to his forehead like it was glued down to his face. His cheeks were a reddish pink from both the cold of the air and rain and from the embarrassment of being knocked over.

It was strange. I would have expected him to be angry. Most people here would have been.

"I'm so sorry, really, I didn't mean to run into you." I continue to apologize, feeling incredibly bad for colliding with him. His hand still gripped mine, almost as if he wasn't sure what was happening.

"Er... No, no! No, you're okay!" He said, brows raised as he quickly slipped his damp hand out of my equally damp hand. "I'm sorry I was in your way."

"Are you kidding?" I looked up at him, a smile etched into my face now, almost laughing as amusement showed through my voice. It took me a second to realise he was serious. "No, don't apologize for that."