Birds of a Feather (Oswald Cobblepot)

Paradise Lost

   I wake the next morning as if it were a normal day. And to be fair, it is. Normal days are so rare for me these days, for better or for worse. I get out of bed and stride over to the living room. I open the door to find Oswald still asleep on the couch. I look over and see that his knife is on the kitchen counter, so even if he's just pretending to be asleep, at least he's unarmed.

I cautiously approach him, still half-expecting him to lash out and attack me. At the foot of the couch,

I get on my knees, "Oswald, it's time to wake up."

He stirs, but only slightly. I place my hand on the couch next to his, and his hand moves over so that it's touching mine, "Trixie, I love you."

Against my better judgement, I respond, "I love you too, Oswald."

Silence pervades the room for a few breathless moments, the consequences of my confession racing through my mind. There are moments when I do love him, as terrible and irrational as that sounds. Perhaps I am no better than him, a psychotic who takes as they please. But as Oswald begins to wake, blinking his eyes open, I realize that what I feel is far more complex than petty greed. No, I want to help him...and I am. He needs to learn from his mistakes, as well as take responsibility for his actions.

"Oh Trixie, I had the most wonderful dream," he whispers, clenching my hand.

“Really? What was it about?” I ask, genuinely curious. Please don’t be perverted, please don’t be perverted…

He chuckles, wrapping his fingers around my smaller hand, “I was...I was rich. You were there, supportive as always. Mother approved of our relationship, and we all lived together in a fabulous castle of ice.”

“Well, that sounds like a lovely dream, but now I believe it’s time that you leave,” I inform him, standing up and letting go of his hand, “I’ve already packed all of your things into the briefcase over there.”

Oswald leaps up from his sleeping position on the couch, “Trixie, why in such a rush? I’ve only just awaken-”

I hand him the briefcase and cross my arms, “If I let you stay any longer then you’re never going to leave. Tell your mother I said hello-” I suddenly stop myself, “actually, don’t. If anything, you need to convince her you were anywhere but here.”

“Trixie, don’t you feel you’re being a bit rash? After all, don’t you enjoy my company?” he asks, his tone becoming increasingly more concerned.

“I shouldn’t have let this go on for as long as it has. Considering we still live in the same building, we’ll probably still see each other from time to time, although I’ve been thinking about moving out to somewhere else. A nicer apartment maybe, less noise…”

My tone is cold as I briskly stride over to open the door. Holding it open for him, I gesture with one hand for him to leave. But he just stands in place, firmly gripping the handle of the leather briefcase.
“...so this is it then? Throwing me out like trash...do I really mean that little to you?” rings of red brim around his eyes, and his nose turns a bright pink as the first sniffles come about.

Scared to approach him, I cling to the doorway, “Oswald, no, it’s nothing like that. First of all, you need to stop avoiding your mother, I don’t know why you’re doing it in the first place. And it’s not that I don’t care it’s just that...after what happened last night...and considering the events of what’s happened before...I just don’t think we’d work out. You still have a lot to learn about being in a relationship, and I, I’m just not the right person to teach you.”

Nevermind he’s not even considering the fact that he tried to rape me again last night, I grow tired of trying to please his whims, appealing to his emotions. Should I confront him upright about last night? Or would it just anger him further? Somehow, I know that if he’s already turning out endless excuses to stay in my apartment, he’ll do the same if I bring up his attempt to violate me.