E. Nygma

Ed has said it over and over, just never with those three words. He's saying it with the way he lets Oswald stroke his marred back and the way Ed fell asleep on his chest. He's saying it now, with soft, damp kisses and catching one of Oswald's hands to lace their fingers together again, pinning it to the bed, holding it under his weight as he moves.

"Oswald," he whispers into the next kiss. Doesn't stop moving, or kissing.