"See, I never was too into guns to begin with. But there's a certain appeal to their practical fatality, I believe. Besides, with a beautiful weapon like that?" Edward ran a finger along the gun, then looked at Harvey as he closed his hand around the barrel, stroking it. Yes, the phallic imagery really might be entirely on him, Jonathan might have been right with that diagnosis. Not that it had anything to do with his father.

"And then there is the rush, of course. Of holding a gun. Or of being at gunpoint." He lifted the gun, rather than letting Harvey take it, taking aim at his head, still smiling. "You like it too, don't you? That rush."