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She knew where he would be.

Way up in a mansion of limestone and gargoyles. Preening a garden of the perfect and imperfections of this world. Of anatomy he yearned to have but did not. Of creatures he had never seen yet had read about in tales woven from the pages of storybooks.

From his inventor.

It would’ve been an obvious one given the day he'd come down from his watchtower and became the neighborhood barber and trimmer.

He'd provided a unique skill set with quizzical, overshadowed eyes, focused in on the machinations of his work and a formal name of his stature.

Edward.

At first, she'd found him strange and off-putting. Especially when their first introduction had come from the reflection of a mirror, showcasing a man of unknown origin in her bed. Her waterbed she'd later discover was punctured like a pin cushion and a saturated carpet. All because of the strange, silver instruments that were part of his anatomy; his hands.

Scissors.

And thus, she'd come to understand the context of his name: Edward, Edward Scissorhands. A new commodity for the neighbors to gossip, ridicule, and wonder. She herself had found an inkling of curiosity within. Even from the distance she tried to place herself in the efforts of her jealous, egotistical boyfriend, Jim.

Of course, that had only held for so long.

His snide remarks about the peculiar, leather-clad man in her home had been the final straw before she'd broken it off. A bold refute which was followed after Edward had been abandoned during a robbery gone wrong at Jim's home. In which Jim had wanted to steal a van for him and Kim.

And thus, Edward paid the consequences as the innocent, naive bystander.

"Because you asked me to."

Those words would stay with her after she'd asked why he'd done it. Touched by his gentle subservience but guilty because of his lack of reality. Having been isolated for most of his life as a humanoid unfinished. Yet her draw to him wouldn't abate. With eyes that reminded her of a black sea of glass, and a handsome face seemingly carved from white marble and shadow, she'd fallen for the brooding man. Left to dance in flakes of chipped ice from the reformed version he'd carved of she as a dancing ice sculpture.

She'd been entranced.

Even as the world fought against them with false allegations and a judgment for the damned that he was anything but. She'd wrapped herself in his security and looked into those soul-filled eyes without shame. Even when his life had come at the cost of her ex-boyfriend, alongside of Edward she'd remained until the final hour.  Hence the ache in her heart that would carry as a weight when she'd reluctantly depart.  Knowing new scars would arise the next morning physically, mentally, and—emotionally.

She'd had to convince the town and chittering gossip hens that Edward had fallen to his demise. If just to protect his life of solitude from the cruel world beyond his domain.

As well as painfully having to stay away.

But the Poggs would never forget Edward especially, Peggy Boggs. With the tender heart of a dove, a rare commonality for a sales woman, she'd found an empathetic spot in her heart for Edward. This she'd deemed herself as the mother he'd never had.

Though years passed after, her mother never spoke a bad word about Edward. Kim suspected it was like an unspoken oath. Which would only deepen her gratitude towards the matron, strengthening their relationship as both mother and daughter. Despite the rumours that circulated on because they knew the truth which was all that mattered.

Near the eve of every Christmas, they created an ornament as tribute to him, secretly kept within the pine and twinkling lights. As the aroma of melted angel food circulated the home, presents placed upon the skirting, and the angel placed atop the tree--the snow would start to fall.

Just for that one, single night, it remained like an unspoken answer they each held within their hearts.

Kim swore when she looked out her bedroom window upon each Christmas Eve, she could make out a distinct figure of the humanoid, Edward Scissorhands. Mercilessly sculpting another figure atop his tower it was in his company, an echo of the one special winter he'd shared with her and her family. For this, he passionately gave over his machinations, imbued with the love he'd always hold for them with every snowfall.

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