#riddlerchrome

Mona could hardly breathe.

It was one thing to be strangled— she knew how they felt, she wasn’t new to this, but slowly choking on the very air you breathed was another, much more horrible feeling altogether.

Maybe she should’ve been smarter, she thought hysterically. Maybe she should’ve realized that the steal was too easy, that the room was too small. It didn’t matter, she was here, laid out on the floor, staring at the elaborately painted ceiling. How ironic, dying in a rich man’s mansion.

Footsteps by her ear. Her eyes snapped to the blurry figure above her, the painting forced out of her clutching hands. This was it, she thought, nearly laughing in her delirium were her throat not closing, cutting it into a shrill gasp.

Instead, a gloved hand brushed her jugular. Soft and familiar. Two fingers pressed down, forcing the poisoned berries she’d been tricked into eating only moments before up and out.

She wheezed, tears rolling down her cheeks. “Ed,” she croaked, throat still raw.

He shushed her quietly, helping her sit up. “Focus on breathing,” Ed murmured, one hand on her stomach, the other on her back, keeping her upright. “That’s all I need from you now, alright?”

Mona nodded. Weakly, she clutched at the lapels of his suit, shuddering as her chest heaved.

When her vision came back into focus, the look Ed was shooting down the hall was deadly. The party Mona had attempted to slip out of moments before still went on, laughter echoing down the halls. She could feel Ed’s fists ball on her shoulder blades.