Chapter Text
The some scars on Edgar’s arm did not completely heal over.
Some were jagged and, despite Rampo’s best efforts, they didn’t heal correctly in some areas. Some of the scars over time became raised and the skin was uneven. In other areas, the soft skin had become smoothed over and the only indicator of what happened was the thing white lines covering that specific area.
Poe never wore anything with short sleeves as often around everyone anymore. He didn’t want their eyes on him, he didn’t really want their attention, even though he was no longer considering and enemy.
( Rampo had to corner him when he was on the verge of another mental breakdown and explain to him that has no longer an enemy of the ADA and was welcome to come in any time ).
( Edgar has assisted them on many cases and crime scenes, as well as provided a sense of peace that the office kind of lacked ).
( plus, the Director had already, practically, adopted Edgar into the office with the “ welcoming headpatt ” ).
Edgar healed from the ancient cutting habit he relapsed into after that particular difficult time.
It was definitely a journey.
Edgar would be crying in his sleep and wake up in cold sweats, cradling himself and his arms. Checking and double checking over and over again to make sure they weren’t cut open again or bleeding.
It was an awful sight to see when Rampo would come into Edgar’s bedroom and be crying over himself over just the thought of accidentally relapsing after that incident.
Rampo would hold him until he calmed down, and pet his hair, and sing him a lullaby his parents sang to him before they died.
That always seemed to soothe Edgar the way it soothed him as a child.
( it was nice knowing something that soothed his own nightmares worked on someone whom he cared about so much ).
Edgar had slowly learned that it was okay to say no to Rampo and define boundaries with his editors and stand up for himself when it came to the thing that stressed him out.
Rampo had gotten better at reading Edgar as well, without having to put on his glasses to finally connect the dots and rush to help him whenever he drove himself up a wall.
They got better at reading each other, and Edgar was catching up to Rampo, albeit slowly.
( no one could catch up to Rampo, everyone knew this ).
( if we were going by that, then no one would be worthy enough for Rampo ).
Edgar was developing healthier coping mechanisms and getting better at managing a sleep schedule and with his workaholic nature. He tried his best to eat, at least, 2 meals a day. Only occasionally skipping breakfast.
Rampo also made sure Edgar bathed every other day, since he didn’t exercise or sweat all that much and was mostly holed up in his apartment complex.
Rampo would frequently visit and give him lunches from the cafe or things that Atsushi made that were actually really good.
As they grew closer, Rampo was always the first one to ready him rough drafts and point out mistakes in cases and helped brainstorm ideas for murders when he worked on the normal books.
They grew closer and the line between friend and lover started to blur.
( he couldn’t pin-point the exact moment when “ Poe ” turned into “ Edgar ”, but the moment happened, and it felt as natural as breathing ).
Edgar either didn’t mind, or didn’t notice. Knowing him, he didn’t notice. He was probably inside his own head too much, over thinking everything.
It must have been exhausting to be constantly thinking about something, or over analysing everything.
( Rampo was always thinking about something, but never to the extent that Edgar was ).
Rampo was sitting on Edgar’s couch, next to Edgar himself. They were sharing an earbud with Edgar’s playlist playing on scramble.
He had very good taste in music, it’s not something Rampo had heard before, but he still very soft and pleasing.
( it most often consisted of soft guitars and simple sounds ).
( it was very minimal music and very soft ).
( it was so very Edgar ).
Rampo was just watching Edgar write, and just studied him.
He found the way Edgar acted rather fascinating. He was usually very anxious around other human beings and really talked or even made sound.
But by himself, or with people he was very comfortable around, he was, almost, an entirely different person. He was still quiet, but way more animated.
He would wiggle and fiddle with his hands when he got really excited and if he was happy enough, he would flap his hands and jump. When he got an idea or figured something out, he would jump and stomp his feet before sitting and writing down the idea and showing Rampo.
He liked to hum whenever he was occupied by his work or really focusing in on something. It really was a stark contrast to the way he acted in public, around all those crowds and people.
He was starting to get really comfortable around Rampo, which is why it was easier to notice he was starting to self-destruct yet again.
This time Rampo was there to help him out of it before he actually hurt himself again.
“ Edgar, we talked about this. We agreed that you would go to someone when you felt like doing this again .”
Rampo took the whittling knife away from Edgar and stuffed it into his back pocket. The blade was starting to dull after so many years of sharpening quills and pencils.
( that made the blade more deadly since he started to be less cautious with his movements ).
( less caution meant more injury ).
( not again ).
Edgar looked away, his face going red with shame and embarrassment.
“ Edgar, look at me. What did we agree to ?”
Edgar looked at him with his one, lavender eye and his face still red.
“ We agreed, that if I ever felt I was going to harm myself again, I would tell you and we’d figure out a safer way to find a relief .”
“ Very good. If you knew, why did you not come to me Ed? I want to help you .”
Edgar turned 50 shades of red darker.
“ I was scared of how you’d react and treat me different. It’s dumb and I can’t believe I thought that, but that’s the main reason why--”
Rampo covered his grin with the back of his hand and chuckled a little bit.
“ Edgar, please. How can you have such a big brain, but be so stupid at the same time ?”
Edgar yanked his head to the side and his face formed a frown.
His red face did not go away.
“ I’m only stupid for you .”
Rampo was taken aback by the sudden comment.
( Edgar just flirted with him ).
( this was unexpected ).
( Edgar was so shy most of the time ).
“ If you go stupid for me, then stupidity must be a disease .”
Rampo didn’t think it was possible for a human being to go anymore red than Edgar was already.
But, he was yet again proven wrong by Edgar’s face going so red, he was afraid it was permanent.
Rampo laced his fingers into Edgar’s, fascinated that his were way smaller than his, but not entirely surprised. Edgar was way taller than him.
Edgar shielded his face with the back of his hand that wasn’t laced with Rampo’s.
The stark contrast between his pale hand and his beet red face was jarring and slightly funny.
“ That’s a very roundabout way of confessing .”
That’s when Rampo let out the loudest belch he ever let out in a while. Usually he chortles or chuckles whenever something amuses him, but he never belches.
It took like, five minutes for Rampo to calm down from the smartass comment Edgar made.
“ It might be, but what I said is true .”
Edgar smiled and Rampo really wanted to see it.
He gently yanked Edgar’s other hand and saw the prettiest smile he’d ever seen.
And he couldn’t believe it belonged to Edgar.
“ You know, you should smile more often. I like it, it suits you !”
“ I’ll smile more often, if you’ll allow me to be yours .”
Rampo laced their other hands together.
Edgar’s hands were so cold compared to his own, but it wasn’t uncomfortable.
“ I expect you to smile more often then, Edgar .”
“ Of course I will, but only for you .”
( Rampo didn’t think Poe’s lips would be as soft as they were ).
( But then again, he isn’t complaining ).