Edgar x reader || fluff

I tried real hard T^T I'm so bad at writing him,,,

I tried to combine both Netease's characterization and his original creator's ideas, but i'm not super sure that it's right...

You were dizzy. Your head was spinning, your legs were almost unresponsive to your brain as you dragged yourself away from the rocket chair you just rescued the prisoner from. Thanks to the protection of Eli's owl, you could make a safe rescue, but instead of targeting you, the hunter once again chased Luca after you body-blocked for him with the owl. Everyone in the match had been hit once, and with three ciphers left, there was no time to heal up. Limping back to your quietly beeping cipher, you started to decode whilst trying to ignore the pain from your scratches.

"Stop decoding." A voice demanded, causing you to step away from the cipher. Edgar stepped towards you, forcefully pushing you down by your shoulder. "Here." He crouched down next to you, taking the antiseptic that all survivors are equipped with and rubbing it across your bleeding leg. You winced, gripping on to his wrist by instinct, though his glare made you take your hand back. He finished by wrapping your wound in a bandage. You noticed he was healed up to, you presumed Eli helped him while you rescued.

"Thank you." You whispered as the two of you began to work on the cipher. With perfect timing, Eli's owl blocked another hit for the prisoner. Not too long after the owl's screech, a distant cipher popped, and Luca's cipher connection linked your cipher to another within a short distance. Together, the two of you worked on your cipher while transmitting progress.

"Don't move, I'm coming!" You shouted when Luca was downed again, startling the painter causing a calibration to be missed. As you ran off to save the prisoner, you felt another glare directed towards you from Edgar. After you rescued Luca, and got hit in the process, you went to the other cipher that was beginning to shake as it gained progress. While you ran, you noticed Eli watching the hunter from afar.

"What are you staring at?" Edgar appeared next to you. You jumped and missed a calibration, he quietly laughed, using Luca's connection to pop the other cipher. The last one was the cipher you were working on. His chuckle died down as you ignored him to finish the cipher. Luca was downed and chaired again, this time being sent off back to the manor, and Eli was forced to contain the hunter as the two of you worked on the cipher in silence.

"Cipher Machine Primed!" You yelled, waiting for the moment that Eli got hit. Without warning, a black and red flash next to the cipher appeared. You popped the cipher. Eli was waiting by the gate at the opposite end of the map, both of you knew that, but you had to get there before the hunter got you. You didn't realize that Edgar grabbed your hand as the two of you ran. In the panic of running from The Ripper, you tripped, falling behind due to the bleeding rip in your leg. Edgar tightened his grip on your hand and pulled you forward, barely missing a foggy blade directed at your previous position. The second hit that came at you was instantly blocked by Brooke Rose. Your hand in his, you ran through the exit gate, Eli close behind. You didn't let go until you reached the manor, only then did he pull his hand away. You thought he was going to glare at you again, but his eyes were soft, until he noticed you. You didn't catch the blush on his face as he stomped away. As you walked back to your room, you realized how cold your hand was. Remembering the feeling of his hand in yours, you smiled while hugging your hand to your chest. You thought about how he cared more about you than he let on.

(Short P.O.V switch,)

Edgar was tired. He didn't want to talk to anyone, and he was angry, but he didn't know why. He felt like he was missing something and that irritated him. He wanted to forget whatever he was missing and go to bed, but his mind wouldn't allow it. The weird feeling in his hand caused him to think. He must have needed to paint. Normally, the inspiration to paint would come from a thought, but his hand was bugging him, telling him to do something. Thoughtlessly, he let his brush glide across the canvas. He didn't think about what he was producing on the canvas, he only worked, not knowing where he was going. He realized as he painted, never before had he made art so carelessly. Though he was using care with every stroke of the brush, he was not thinking of what he was painting. As his sketch came to light, the feeling in his hand only grew more unnatural. As he painted, his mind drifted to the feeling of their hand in his. How comfortable his hand was in theirs, the way they tightened their grip on his hand when he pulled them away from danger, and how they've left such an impact on them even after he left. He finished his painting with a new feeling. This new feeling influenced his painting, his feelings, and helped him realize how someone had become special to him. He realized he was in love.

(ok, back to 2nd person p.o.v)

You felt someone staring at you. As someone who was used to getting glares from Edgar, the way he was looking at you felt different than a stare of frustration or anger. You turned around, intending to confront him, but he did the unexpected. When your eyes met his, instead of continuing to stare as a way to prove his dominance, he looked away. You began to worry for him.

"Are you alright?" He turned to you with an incredulous look, quickly turning his disbelief into a scowl. Thankfully, you could see right past his fake anger.

"Wouldn't you like to know." He stopped. The moment he locked eyes with you again, he felt weird again. He turned his head and muttered, "I'm fine." You were going to respond, but your conversation was cut short by the coordinator.

"(y/n), can you do me a favor?" You looked to the painter then back to Martha, then you nodded. If Edgar were any less respectful, he would've objected. He would've pulled you back telling Martha to go away, but he only sat there, watching you as you left to fulfill whatever task Martha had you do. He waited. When the coordinator walked back into the room, you were nowhere to be seen, he asked where you were.

"I asked her to fill in for me for my match." She answered and left. He sighed and continued to wait, bored but worried. Over an hour later, you still didn't come back. He decided it would be best to wait for you by the entrance, so he could continue your conversation right when you got back. He began to pace when you had not come back another hour later. He resorted to asking the others of your whereabouts. They all answered with the same thing. As far as everyone knew, you were still in your match. He wasn't going to leave, no matter how long you took, but he was beginning to get bored. At least, he told the others he was. In all reality, he was worrying. Not many matches took this long, you must be tired, not to mention your leg was already messed up from the previous day's match you were in with him. All these thoughts ran through his head as everyone left and he was the only one waiting. The moment before he became overwhelmed with his worries, you stumbled in the room, collapsing in his arms. He held you up and led you to your bathroom, scolding you along the way.

"Do you know how long I was waiting?" He started, helping you up to sit on the countertop of your bathroom. "No, I'm going to have to do this for you. Do you know how bad you are at taking care of your wounds?" He took the bandages from your hands. You leaned your head back, too tired to respond. By the time he finished dressing your wounds, you were fast asleep. He didn't want to wake you up, but he couldn't carry you to your bed. Before he had the chance to choose what to do, you mumbled, trying to get down from the counter yourself. He sighed and helped you down, quietly laughing at your fatigued behavior.

"It's the afternoon, you know. You shouldn't be taking a nap." He teases, but still leads you to your bed, practically forcing you to get rest. When you get comfortable, it was easy for you to fall asleep again.

"Sleep well, (y/n)." Edgar whispered, leaning in to plant his lips on your forehead in a flustered attempt to gain courage. "You make me feel really weird, stop." He was planning to leave, but something about you made him stay. You gave him inspiration. What he didn't expect was for his muse to be awake the whole time he was talking to you.

"I like you, too." You turned over, holding tightly to his hand. Your unexpected response startled him. He turned away with a deep red covering his face, though he still held onto your hand. "Do you want to nap with me?" You knew it was a stretch, to get someone like him to stay with you, but you tried anyway. You could feel his body temperature rising, and though it was a little dark, you could see his blush deepen. Without a word, he rushed out of the room. You chuckled to yourself, turned over and closed your eyes. After a moment, he cooled himself down outside your door and slipped back in.

"Yes." He murmured, crawling into your bed, facing your back. Unsure of himself for the first time in his life, he wrapped his arm around your waist, hoping that you were still comfortable. You smiled, turned to face him, and hugged him back. You fell asleep before you realized that he was smiling back at you.