Sorry for the long wait again, guys! Not sure how I feel about this chapter... I'm pretty sure it's the end of this story; but I don't know if I've ended it well enough or not, so feedback would be good. Bleh I'm nervous. Might as well go for it, though. It's 2am, so forgive me if it's not up to the usual standard.

I hope y'all enjoy what little there is.

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing but Kenna.

Chapter 16

The asshole has figured out how I feel and now he's using it against me. That's the only logical explanation. Come on, Kenna, regain control! I pushed myself off the wall and brushed passed him, muttering, "Bullshit." I went to the utility cupboard and produced a dustpan and brush. While I set to work on the broken glass, Edward – still the gentleman – stood watching me. Just like in the asylum when I dragged the drunken guard out my cell, he decides not to–

Edward's skin brushed my own as he took the dustpan and brush out of my hands and set to work on the broken glass himself. I remained where I was, kneeling on the floor, gawping at him incredulously. He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye and smirked slightly. "You choose not to listen to me, so I'm attempting to show you, instead."

"Show me what?" I asked quietly.

He stopped for a moment and looked at me. "You may not be clever; but you're not that stupid, Kenna." I rolled my eyes and walked away. "Did I say something to offend you?"

God, he sounds like a seven-year-old. "I'm fine with you insulting everyone else's intelligence; but the point that you're trying to make... it's not easy to see when you go and say shit like that."

He was quiet as I reached the counter and turned around to face him, pulling myself up onto the surface to sit on it. Then he spoke again. "Do you trust me, Kenna?"


Wait, what? Since when?

Since forever, dumbass.


"What does it matter?"

"If you trust me, you can believe what I'm trying to tell you."

I watched him silently as he stood, half-full dustpan in his hand, brush in the other, staring at me with an expression of tense anticipation. I suddenly felt as if the weight of the world was on my shoulders.

"Riddle me this: if you break me, I do not stop working. If you touch me, I may be snared. If you lose me, nothing will matter. What am I?" he asked softly, his gaze becoming intense. "Do you trust me, Kenna?"

So lost in his eyes, I only just managed to get out: "One question at a time, please."

"Do you trust me?" he repeated.

The world seemed to stop. My breathing had ceased, my heart wasn't beating, and I couldn't move any part of my body. Nothing existed. Nothing except for Edward and I, and those beautiful blue eyes.

"Yes." It came out almost inaudibly, on the slightest of breaths; but apparently he heard it.

His eyes brightened considerably; he lowered the dustpan and brush; and his feet started taking tentative steps towards me. "And the riddle?" he asked.

I thought about it for a few seconds. Then realisation dawned on me, and I felt the fluttery feeling again, much stronger than ever before. "Your heart."

He was a foot away from me now – one step closer and he'd be positioned snugly between my legs.

"Do you believe me? Do you believe what everyone has been saying since the asylum?" he asked.

My heart was hammering against my ribcage, and I was unbelievably ecstatic; but there was just one thing wrong... I didn't want to risk believing him, and find out that it was all a lie. "I can't."

His face contorted first in confusion, then irritation, then anger. "Why?" he growled, taking that last step and getting right up in my face.

"It seems ridiculous."

"What reason have I to pretend?" he demanded. "Why can you not believe me?"

"Because it's just highly improbable, okay?"

"When you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth," he said.

"I'm not sure Sherlock's the best role model for you, Edward – he kind of catches the bad guys," I snapped. "And in case your brilliant mind can't figure that out because you're too busy with super-smart stuff: you are a bad guy, therefore he'd be chasing you."

"I'd be glad to have someone of his intelligence take me in," he retorted. "I'd cherish his companionship."

"Then why don't you go make him care for you against his will!" I exclaimed angrily.

He glared at me. "Because I only care about you caring about me!"

"I must say, that was mighty eloquent for someone so intellectual."

"Why do you always seek to make our conversations end in aggressive conflict?"

"I don't do shit!" I scowled, offended. "You're the one that pisses me off all the time!"

"I can't frustrate you all of the time if you have managed to develop feelings for me!"

"Who said I had?" I shouted.

"You did! Everything you do, everything you say, the way you react –they're clues to your emotions!

"You haven't been making assumptions have you?"

"Enough with this!"

"Oh, I'm just getting started," I chuckled darkly.

Edward slammed his hands down on the counter at my sides, leaning in so close I could feel his breath on my lips, tickling them, torturing me. "Of no use to one, yet absolute bliss to two. The baby's right, the lover's privilege. To the young girl, faith; to the married woman, hope; to the old maid, charity. What am I?" he demanded furiously.

My fingers were itching to reach up and grab him, my lips were tingling with anticipation, and my eyes were darting around his face, absorbing every detail.

"What am I?" he asked again.

I swallowed hard. "A kiss."

His eyes closed, and the next thing I knew, his lips were pressed against mine roughly, his hands clutching my waist. How oddly out of character, I mused. Then, with a mental slap to the head and the sudden lurching of my heart, accompanied by the fluttery sensation transforming into the thunderous beats of heavy wings, I closed my eyes, kissed him back, and brought my hands up to clutch his shirt.

One of his arms slid around my waist, pulling me into his chest, while the other hand rose up my back, resting between my shoulder blades. I let my own arms loop around his neck, my mind only focused on everything Edward at his sudden close proximity. He leaned in even more, if that was possible, and our lips moved against each other in what I assumed to be a clumsy fashion, given that neither of us had kissed someone in a very long time; but somehow that just made the whole thing that much better.

I wasn't sure if I could believe what was going on; however, I did know one thing:

Edward Nygma may go to great lengths to solve his puzzles; but seeing as though he hasn't dated someone in years, he wouldn't go as far as sharing a kiss with them.

I'd never remembered being so happy and complete before, and it was all because of him. For once in the surprisingly short amount of time I'd known him, I couldn't find anything to complain about. And, in terms of Edward Nygma, A.K.A The Riddler, that was most definitely saying something.

Meh, okay. There it is.

Ugh I don't know.

Anyway, if I'm ever gonna write more about Kenna and Edward - which won't be for a while, if ever - then it'll probably be some one-shots. Maybe while I'm writing my Legolas/OC it would be nice for some more casual writing, so if you ever have any ideas for one-shots then feel free to suggest them and I'll take a look:)

If anyone's felt that the quality of this story has lessened as it progressed, I don't blame you, and you have my deepest, most sincere apologies. I feel like it kinda went to shit at the end. Maybe I'll come back and edit it somewhere along the line, because there's a lot of things I'd change about Edward (e.g. more riddles, and more intellectual words); but I'm done with it for now.


I'm really properly sorry if this has disappointed anyone and I hope you at least enjoyed the bits that weren't so shitty.

To everyone who reviewed, followed, favourited, and even just read: Thank you so, so, so much, seriously. You kept me motivated throughout this story and seeing all those emails from Fanfiction just made my year. I'm so happy and honoured to have recieved such positive and praising reviews on my first story - even if I didn't deserve them - and to have had such wonderful people sticking with The Phoenix. I think it's been like three months, or something; but it definitely feels a lot longer. I don't know how long it felt for those of you waiting for updates, and if it felt like ages, then I'm sorry.

To anyone that is possibly disappointed: I know I could have done a lot better, and I know that there are hundreds, thousands of better stories out there than mine, so if you're going to say something critical, then make it helpful rather than just insulting and unjustified. But, really, if you do feel this way, then... fuck, man, I'm so, so sorry.

Ok so I think I've wallowed in self-pity long enough.

I really hope that this story didn't bore you and that you had as much fun reading it as I did writing it. I also really hope that anyone interested will check out my Lord of the Rings story, Emberling, because I feel a lot more confident with that story and there's definitely a lot more thought put into it. So, yeah. Keep an eye out for Emberling updates and new stories; and thanks for sticking with Kenna all the way to the end.

I love you.