Him

E.N | O.C

E.N
'Don't you dare move, Oswald.' He is worried. He cannot fail. He was promised something very important to kill Oswald, but they've been standing here for too long. The moment where he should have killed the bird is over.

He cocks the gun and pokes it harder into the shorter mans temple. He leans in close to his face and interrogates those blue eyes with his own green ones. But Oswald's eyes don't portray a single feeling- he is completely nonchalant. Although, the green eyes that live inside his own head show quite clearly the mental turmoil he finds himself in.

His mind has become a feeding ground for doubt and resignation. They prey on his confusion like it's a Friday night desert, as if it's the richest chocolate the earth has to offer. His eyes spill the marinade of emotions oozing through his brain and he has been reduced to nothing but confusion.

'I should be level headed. I should be able to put this bullet in your brain.' He says without saying. The softness in Oswald's cheeks show that he understands.
'You won't shoot me, Ed. If you wanted me dead, you'd have done it already.' Oswald replies without a word spoken. His hand reaches out to the gun pressed to his temple and lowers it with his foe still attached. They do not beak eye contact, they do not breach communication.

His hand has Oswald's warm palm resting on it, and their faces remain close. His heart rate slows to a steady beat and the clouds in his mind clear. All anger and anguish drowns in the purity of his blue eyes.

'I-I can't fail.' He says aloud. This is the first of many admissions. Certainly not the last.

O.C
———
A broken man stands before him. Torn between what's right and what's right for him. He has morals, but they're hidden behind blurred lines and brimming anguish. He knows when to be good and when to be bad, he just struggles with determining when to lean which way.

He sees a lot of those qualities in himself. He sees the way he has influenced his friend, and why they can't cooperate together for long. He enjoys when they do, though- their partnership meant so much to him not long ago. He wants the good times back. He wants to laugh and smile and murder and sit by the fire drinking tea with his.... whatever they were when they weren't just doing business.

He confessed his love- plenty of times- but it was not reciprocated. Ed made it very clear he never felt the same, and the pain of that rejection and humility was like a bandaid being ripped off. His heart promised not to be so stupid again. His brain knew he would.

Ed stands before him, allowing the palm resting on his hand to stay. His head hangs low in shame. It's hard to see him like this, but he can't let this man fool him. The last time he thought things with Ed may have mended, he was trapped and betrayed for Lee Tompkins.

"What do you mean, Ed?" He removes his hand from Ed's, rising a reaction from the taller man. He sniffs and puts the gun back in his belt clip. There's so much hesitation with every move he makes; he rubs his face harshly, removes and replaces his hat, fixes his glasses. He looks on guard, like a teenager cutting class. He's looking around expecting a teacher to walk in and drag him back to class.
"Edward, I appreciate something is going on for you but I'm busy with other things so if that's all you have to say-"
"No! Please. I need you to stay. Just stay."

He feels the bandaid being replaced.