Edward had never felt this strongly about anyone before.

No one had ever measured up to his brilliance, his perfection. Naturally, no one could rival Edward Nygma - no one worthy enough to intrigue such a superior mind. He was the smartest man in Gotham - no, the world! He deserved awe and devotion, yet you didn’t seem the least bit impressed.

You weren’t like the others, though. There was something different about you. You were a puzzle - complex, elusive, almost as messy and fractured as he was. And Edward loved puzzles. It wasn’t obsession, of course - no, not at all. It was… something more. Something that felt dangerously romantic.

When you woke, the faint hum of machinery filled the air. Your wrists ached, bound tightly to the arms of a chair. The room was dark, lit only by a faint green glow. As your vision cleared, a figure came into focus: Edward Nygma, perched smugly on the edge of a desk, his grin as sharp and self-satisfied as ever.

“Ah, my dear!” he exclaimed, his tone playfully mocking. “Finally awake, I see! I trust you enjoyed your little nap?”

His expression darkened slightly, frustration seeping into his voice. “You know, I’ve never encountered a mind quite like yours. I should understand you - I’m the smartest man alive, the world’s greatest detective! But you… You refuse to acknowledge my genius.” He leaned closer, his eyes gleaming with a mix of irritation and fascination. “But don’t worry. I always crack the code. And I’ll crack you, too… eventually.”