Edward Nashton x Reader (Part Five)
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Warnings:Smoking A/n: SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG I HAD TO PLAN THE TIMELINE OF EVENTS TO CONTINUE THE FANFIC AND ALSO I HAD WRITERS BLOCK but anyways i hope u guys like it :D btw if any of you want to be tagged in the next part lmk in the comments !!
For the first time in his life, Edward seemed to be unable to figure something out. He racked his brain for an explanation, growing exasperated as he realized he was completely unable to find one. To understand just why you seemed to gravitate towards him at work more and more often.
It started out innocently enough. Smiling at him as you brought him the copies or archives he asked for. Then you started randomly checking in on him as you went on about your day, making small talk. It progressed to you bringing him coffee or snacks every now and then when you ran errands. Soon enough he was practically spending all his breaks talking to you. Or trying to, at least.
Edward felt small. Pathetic, even. No matter how much you approached him, his reactions remained almost the same. His eyes were still fixed on the ground every time you talked, and his answers remained short and concise. You didn’t seem to mind all that much, and it puzzled him.
Just how could you be so patient with him? Why did you even approach him? What could you gain out of all these interactions? Maybe you had some ulterior motive. Some reason so twisted he couldn’t even begin to picture it. Maybe you were just too naive, talking to him as if he were just another person worthy of love, worthy of attention. Or maybe being nice and patient came naturally, a second nature learned in your days as a teacher.
He hoped it was the latter. He hoped you were smart enough to not expect anything from him. He would be mortified if he let you down. Especially when you were the only person in Gotham who was actually and consistently nice to him. Who smiled at him.
And God, you had greeted him with such a sweet smile today. You had entered the office with a slight frown, brows furrowed and a face that seemed to hide something akin to shame. He wondered what you felt, what made you feel that way. Edward envied the almost unbearable confidence of his colleagues. Maybe if he were a little more like Zach he could actually get to know you, instead of just watching you work on his smoke breaks. But then again, maybe if Edward was more like Zach you wouldn’t be this nice to him. After all, you didn’t really talk to Zach that much outside of whatever tasks he assigned to you, and Edward was almost positive he saw you roll your eyes at the man once or twice. Maybe it was just his imagination.
Either way, your unsavory expression appeared to fade as soon as you walked by Edwards desk, instead being replaced with a genuine smile and a “Morning, Ed!”.
Edward sighs and looks down at his crossword puzzle, halfway done, and taking more time than it usually would, especially since it was a slow day at work and he wasn’t particularly busy. He was sure it was your fault. You made him stupid. Stupid and mute, and made his brain —the only part of himself he was somewhat proud of— turn into mush.
Edward stared at the blank spaces, burning holes into the paper.
15 Across - 5 letters - Grants energy necessary to function…
“That one is ‘feeds’, I think”
Your voice comes out of nowhere, as does your finger, which lands on the paper, right next to his hand. His head whips back, startled. You’re not looking at him, but instead at the puzzle as you try to verify your answer, brows furrowing in a way Edward hopes to memorize. He turns to the crossword, writing down the answer and checking it. Much to his dismay, it was correct.
“Uh… yeah. Yes. Feeds. That’s right”, he says. There it is again. That feeling of utter stupidity that materializes alongside you.
“Yes! I’m not that dumb”, you joke, smiling and proudly placing your hands on your hips. Edward glances up at your bright grin. Maybe feeling stupid was worth it. Especially when Edward can see the way your hips sway as you happily walk back to your desk.
Your joy doesn’t last much longer, though, as the workday that had started smoothly turned rather busy. Zach in particular had been getting more annoying with time, asking you for things he could do himself, or asking you to carry out tasks that didn’t pertain to your simple secretary position. It became even more unbearable when the requests came accompanied by a sexist comment of sorts.
You started noticing a pattern in your boss’ requests timing, too. He seemed to relish in asking you for things just as you sat down at your desk, when you were busy with something else, or when you were in the middle of a conversation. Now that you thought about it, Zach interrupted you a lot more when you talked to Edward. Once you noticed it, it was hard not to instinctively roll your eyes each time he interrupted your daily chats, excusing yourself with a forced smile before you returned to catering to your superior’s every need.
Edward noticed too. But what could he do about it, really? He fantasized about an ideal world where he could kill him and where you’d thank him for it, kissing his cheek as a reward…
That desire grows stronger as Edward watches you busily pace around the office. Each time you pass near his desk your face appears to be more and more contorted into an expression of complete irritation.
He sees you at your worst about two hours later. As Edward walks into the breakroom, he sees you on your hands and knees on the floor, unsuccessfully trying to clean spilled coffee off the floor with the flimsy napkins available. Edward hates himself for letting his mind wander the way it does as he sees you like this. What got to him was the inversion of roles. He had always looked up at you, towering over him while he sat at his desk. Now, as you turned around to face whoever had just entered the breakroom, you were the one looking up at him.
You looked so good like this too. Hair up in a hurried messy bun —unlike your usual neat hairdos—, kneeling in a way that made your white button up not cover enough of your cleavage, calling his name…
Right, you just said his name. Edward’s thoughts are interrupted by the realization, and he snaps out of his trance as you get up and step closer, now right in front of him.
“Ed! I’m sorry, but can you do me a favor? Can you roll up my sleeves, please? My hands are full of coffee.”, you say, awkwardly holding your hands out in front of you so as to not stain your white shirt with the coffee that dripped from your fingers.
Edward admired you for a second. He looks down at you once again, even though you’re standing now. Has he been this much taller than you this whole time?
He clears his throat and nods.
“Sure.”
He grabs your arm, taking the sleeve and carefully rolling it up, reveling in the way his fingers graze your soft skin with each tuck of the sleeve. The action is silent but gentle. Comfortable. And you find your eyes following Edward’s hands as they repeat the task on the other sleeve. His hands are big and his fingers are long, and he does what you ask him to with tremendous care.
You notice his hands left you a second ago, and that you were too enthralled with their movements to say something.
“Ah, thank you so much Ed.”, you say, looking up at him and offering a grateful smile, that crumbles as soon as you realize that the nice gesture wouldn’t make the task of cleaning the mess any less degrading. You go back down to the floor, continuing to clean with a sigh. Edward takes it as his cue to leave the room and returns to his desk without saying much.
— — —
Edward bumps into you again at lunch break. With a few minutes to spare, he decides to take a smoke break. The office was too busy and crowded, and he needed silence, so instead of heading to the balcony where he usually went, he goes to the rooftop.
There he finds you, leaning on the railing, looking down at the city. Your sleeves are still rolled, hair now in your usual hairdo. You look tense.
As you hear the door close behind you, you turn around, and Edward’s heart breaks as he sees your tired expression. He hoped to never have to see that face again. He hoped he could fix it somehow. Your expression softens slightly as you realize it’s just him, and you step towards him as Edward lights his cigarette, leaning on the wall next to him, with a small thud.
Edward feels the need to break the silence, for some reason. To try and say something, anything that could brighten your mood.
“Are you okay?”, he says. That’s about as far as he can go.
You shake your head, your eyes still fixed on the horizon and the outline of the city. “Not really”, you admit. You feel Edward’s eyes on you as he pushes a little more.
“What’s wrong?”, he asks, and the genuine concern in his voice makes you crumble.
“It’s just-”, you sigh, exasperated. “I get that I should be grateful for having a job and everything, but I’m just so sick of them!”, you gesture back to the building.
“They say we’re ‘all in the same boat’, and it pisses me off, cause we’re not! I’m the one running all their stupid errands while they sit and talk about whatever next fancy trip they’re going to. They don’t have to worry about paying rent. And I’m the one getting paid at least five times less while putting five times more effort. They make me do things they could perfectly do themselves!”, you continue, growing more and more infuriated as your speech continues.
Edward has never seen you like this. So angry. He didn’t know this amount of rage could have possibly existed within you.
“And don’t get me started on Zach. Today he made me-”, your voice breaks. “He made me clean the coffee he spilled. That’s not even my job! I’m- I’m a secretary! And- and I could feel him looking at me and it was so degrading…”, you trail off.
“It’s just- I’m tired of the people above us treating people like us like we don’t matter.”, you state.
Edward understands. He’s tired too. Something urges him to speak, so he breaks the silence.
“I… I get what you mean. They just take and take and take and forget about the rest. It’s the same with politicians. Same with everyone. This- This city is just so corrupt…”, he rambles. This is probably the most you had heard him talk, and watching him continue his speech ignites something in you. Something familiar. This reminds you of-
You put a stop to the thought, being hit with the shame of remembering what you had done just a few days ago. Still, you can’t help that Edward’s ramblings have the same effect on you. He’s still talking, about politics and about corruption, and you are hypnotized by him. Who knew your sweet, quiet coworker and you shared the same rage?
Having him right next to you and not looking at the ground gives you the chance to actually admire his features. And God, he was handsome. You watch the smoke leave his lips as he talks and you point to the cigarette.
“Can I?”, you ask.
Edward looks surprised, but he nods and hands it to you. His eyes can’t help but follow your lips as you take a drag, and he feels something sinful bubble up inside him as he sees the lipstick mark you left on the cigarette, and the smoke leave your pretty lips. You hand it back to him, and he takes it nervously, cherishing the small mark you had left as he continues to smoke. Did this count as a kiss? He hoped it did.
You break the silence with a sigh.
“You know Eddie…”, that's new. But the nickname rolls off your lips so naturally that he can’t complain. He likes it.
“... sometimes I wish they would all just… drop dead.”, you say firmly.
Edward can’t breathe.
So you agree? You’d thank me if I killed them all?
Edward sees you tense up, maybe thinking he would be disgusted at the confession. But how could he? Nothing you did could ever disgust him. He breaks the silence once again.
“Me too. They… they deserve to suffer.”, he responds, glancing at you, and you make eye contact for the first time in what feels like ages. Your face is contorted into a sly smirk. It makes him feel things.
Your hand pats his side as you look up at him with that devious expression, and he wants to cry.
“Glad to know we agree, Nashton.”, you say, beginning to walk away. You turn around before you reach the door, making eye contact once more. Your expression is now much softer, more peaceful.
“Oh, and thank you for listening to me, Eddie. You’re a sweetheart.”, you say lovingly. And just like that, you’re gone.
Edward is frozen. He looks down at the kiss-stained cigarette and then up at the sky.
He figures God exists, and that this was His way of rewarding him.
