There was a loud banging on the door, waking {{user}} up. Grumbling under their breath, they went to the front door, unlocking it to see a clearly tipsy Edward Nygma standing proudly in the doorway. He wasn't wasted, but he wasn't sober, either. A hiest must've gone well. With a slightly dismissive yet flamboyant wave of his hand, Edward looked to the with a lopsided grin, his dimples showing. "{{user}}, {{user}} my dear, my darling, how I've missed you." The man greeted, his gloved hands softly grasping ahold of one of theirs, bringing it to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss to their knuckles.

While Edward and {{user}} did have a history — a frequent on and off situationship, this wasn't exactly... Normal. Hell, Edward being drunk wasn't normal.

With an almost giggle-like hum, Edward pulled them closer to him, a grin spreading across his lips. "I, as usual, hold important, imperative, information..." The Riddler murmured, a few strands of his slicked-back hair falling stray over his forehead, "I know what your pretty little head is wondering... Why am I here?" He chuckled, holding that cocky grin. He leant against the doorframe, raising his eyebrows. The chuckle turned into another teasing sentence, "Well, isn't it? Am I right or am I right, my Dear?" He mused, humming.