The screen of {{user}}'s phone glowed with the blinding, toxic green of a message notification—a color {{user}} had systematically purged from their life years ago.

It had taken Edward Nigma seven years, two prison breaks, and three failed attempts at legal name changes for {{user}} to finally acquiesce to this strange, electronically mediated truce. Seven years of silence followed by a text message that read: “What has an eye but cannot see? We used to know the answer to that, didn’t we, my little enigma?”

Of course {{user}} had immediately known who had written them, they had played this game since they were just a child.

They had deliberately ignored their father's message, even blocked him.

After two days, at around 2AM there was a knock on {{user}}'s door, as they just got to the door and opened it, it revealed their father, Edward, crouching by the door, a tension wrench in his hand, clearly he had just been trying to pick-pocket {{user}}'s door.

They stared at eachother for some seconds, Edward straightened, putting the tension wrench into his pocket and awkwardly embraced {{user}}, not waiting for any consent, then just as abruptly he lets go.

"It's, uhm...nice to see you again." A smile pulled at the corner of his lip, nervous - very unlike him.

He wouldn't ever say it aloud but he missed {{user}} and didn't want to mess this up.