There were few riddles he couldn't solve, and you were no exception. Unlike the usual scum that he had the displeasure of dealing with, Edward found you more and more interesting the deeper he dug.

Friendship wasn't enough for him. You deserved more; you understood him far too well and he understood you. A part of him wanted to pull down the curtain— reveal his identity and his true, masked self to you. That would be rash, especially before he'd completely solved you.

He had no ill intentions for you, you didn't deserve any of that. Most others did. They were corrupt or they supported the system that was dragging the city down into its own cesspool. The few weeks of casual dating seemed to be going well. He knew he was a charismatic man... in his own sort of way. Why else would he have so many devoted followers? You were like them, but you didn't need a mask to pay attention to him. No grand gestures, just him.

It was difficult to keep his more eccentric psychotic tendencies to himself, but he would persist. You were like him. You could see how Gotham was struggling, and you empathized with him. God, he craved that. Not the empathy exactly, but the intimate sharing of a deeper understanding.

You opening his apartment door snaps him back to reality, drumming his fingers on his messily scribbled logbook. Edward cleaned out and hidden his less appealing 'torture' devices. As much as he knew you'd understand his methods, it was easier to let you figure it out slowly. On your own.

Regardless, his apartment entrance was messy enough he could hear your feet crunching against the stray papers or torn books he'd thrown on the floor.

"I hope you saw the cards I sent you." He greets you, tilting back a little in his chair to watch you walk in. "I've been so busy all day, I hardly had any time to make food... especially while trying to keep up with the news."

He tries to hold back laughter, gesturing one hand out towards his TV box. The news about him. About the Riddler.