Golden Hour

        “That was the scariest thing to ever happen in my life.” Riddle could hear your quiet voice outside the infirmary, muted by the door yet echoing in his ears as the nurse checked him over. “I don’t think anything could top that—no, I’m sure there’s worse things, but God, I thought I was going to die back there, Trey.”

        You were scared of him. Everything he had done was upheaved by his overblot—no, everything he did was the problem. He was the one that ruined the already tattered ties between you. 

        Trey suggested that you leave to get some rest, and Riddle closed his eyes when he still felt disappointed as you agreed. ‘Why wouldn’t she?’ His shoulders slumped as he fought back a sigh. ‘After all I’ve done.’

        It was a position without any real power. In fact, the role was so vague as to who it was to be bestowed upon that no one endeavoured to establish it. The King of Hearts, nothing more than someone who followed the Queen and spoke to mediate with her—but not out of bounds. Not out of limits, not a rulebreaker, not someone who was against the Queen.

        No, you had no real power. You weren’t vice-housewarden, you didn’t partake in punishing students or even warning them—you just existed. Even that was somehow neglected, when students would forget to introduce you in fear of him only to do so begrudgingly after, frowning that you even pointed out the mistake in front of the Rose-red Tyrant.

        No, you had no real power. Not that anyone else could see, anyone but Riddle.

        “Off With Your—!”

        “What about a trial?”

        Yo. Was that a girl’s voice? Ace perked up, eyes widening while Riddle lowered his staff and turned to someone behind him. “Trial?”

        He wasn’t screaming, but he still wasn’t pleased. No one could even delude themselves with that when he was frowning so deeply. “A trial. Just a small one, since we’re running short on time.” The girl wore a crown and uniform similar to the Housewarden’s, with a smile much larger and infinitely better compared to his face. “They’re first years.”

        “That is not an acceptable excuse. Might I remind you that they’ve already committed several offences on their very first day here?” The staff suddenly swinging to their faces made Ace flinch before he could watch you anymore. “If you allow rulebreakers to go unpunished, they will devolve into something worse.”

        “I know, Housewarden, but…” You shrugged a little with a smile. Ace couldn’t hear you when you suddenly lowered your voice, but it was all Riddle could focus on even with rulebreakers right behind him.

        “It’s their first day. They’re not used to the school, much less Heartslabyul yet.” The shadows covered your forms in the forest, yet your smile still glowed like fireflies, small yet bright enough to dispel the darkness. The space between felt like a secret only you shared, a quiet conversation that not even Trey and Cater were included in. 

        Riddle narrowed his eyes, forcing himself to focus on your words instead of the voice, but the resulting expression seemed more displeased as you continued. “Maybe a warning?”

        “Hm…” A stifling pause held itself in the air. Deuce and Ace straightened their backs as soon as Riddle looked at them, brows still furrowed until a few suffocating seconds passed and he turned around. “Very well, then; a trial first. You two, stand up.”

        “Yes, Housewarden!” The two scrambled up to their feet despite the complaints from their legs. Riddle ignored their tired groans, looking straight ahead while walking until he caught your head turning in his peripheral. You smiled and waved as discreetly as you could, but he still decided to acknowledge it out loud and dispel the secrecy. “What are you looking at?”

        His tone was much calmer and free from any anger now. He rarely ever directed it at you (he didn’t need to), so why did you still so quickly face him and wave him off? “It’s nothing. The Ramshackle student will be lost if we just leave like this, though.”

        Riddle wasn’t daft. That wasn’t the full truth—perhaps it wasn’t even a part of it. He could see how quickly that smile came onto your face, how it never came with the vulnerability of a true one where you opened your heart and shed your walls. It was always forced on before he could inquire about its absence. 

        But he didn’t mention it. It wasn’t his place to. “That won’t do. If he gets lost, he’ll miss his classes,” the Housewarden muttered before turning to the other card soldiers. “Trey, Cater. Bring him along.”

        “Yes, Housewarden.”

        The two dissociated from your sides immediately at his words. “Don’t worry about him, [Name], we can handle it!” Cater gave a wink and a peace sign as he fell back behind the Heartslabyul group. “You just focus on looking fab as always!”

        At the laugh that wafted in his ear, Riddle turned his head just to see you laughing and waving at Cater. 

        It wasn’t his place. You didn’t owe him your sincerity, not in any way, shape, or form, nor did he need any of it. Such a thing was a distraction anyway, something that would be even worse than being constantly aware of your presence, absence, and all the things you did or did not do. Yet Riddle couldn’t help but click his tongue and tighten his grip on his staff.

        The earliest memory Riddle had of you was when you were all children, when he was still foolish. He was off breaking the rules with Trey and Chenya under a large tree in your garden. The branches stretched and light filtered through the rustling leaves to glow on your forms, and the breeze was so fresh that he still remembered how it cooled his skin and made goosebumps rise. Chenya was floating around your head, pulling on your hair only to pop on the other side and yanking another strand when you tried to spot him. 

        “Stop it!” The yell should have come from you, but it surprised Riddle himself when he stood without thinking. “That’s rude! Mother says that when speaking with another person, you should never-”

        “Aw, still following mommy’s rules?” Then Chenya popped over him, blocking view of the leaves and pulling one of the raised strands of his hair as he yelped. “Come on, she’s not here! Relax a little!” His tail wagged behind him, dodging every raised fist of the little redhead until a different laugh broke out.

        “You’re so cute, Riddle!” Riddle wasn’t even able to see your face when he turned. Your arms immediately captured him, smothering him into yourself as he nearly exploded on the spot. “Don’t worry about me! Chenya wasn’t pulling hard, he was just being annoying.”

        “[Name], you’re squeezing him too hard.” The cat giggled, standing beside the two of you with his Cheshire smile while Trey laughed. “[Name], let him go!”

        “I’m not choking him!” Stubborn child you were, your arms remained around the boy while plopping down. Whatever trial had started just then was lost on Riddle. He just sat there dazed, blinking stupidly on the grass until something slipping behind his ear made him jolt.

        “It looks girly,” Chenya muttered. Trey didn’t agree outright, but his laugh told enough of where he stood.

        You pulled back from the rose nudged behind his ear to look at them with a grin, arm still draped over his shoulders. “I think it suits him! His name is Rosehearts, after all.”

        The scent tickled his nose, the petals soft against his fingers when he reached up to touch it. Riddle stared at the three friends smiling around him, looking as if they lived a life completely free until someone broke the peace. “Yeah, he has real rose-y cheeks.” His face scrunched up when Chenya began pulling on one, an embarrassed flush spreading through until you pushed them off.

        Riddle never saw you again after that, not up close, at least. Sometimes when he looked up from his books to rest his eyes, he would spot you with friends or family. While his study-room remained crowded with books, the sun remained shining outside and shed rays across the clean desk to him. The breeze continued to bring fresh air and coolness to whatever it kissed, and your smile continued to light up the world outside his quiet room.

        He initially thought the way you pranced around would be weeded out as you grew. Your behaviour was implorable, and his mother would be sure to scrunch her nose in distaste if she were to ever meet you. Your parents were respectable people as well, so surely they would instruct you on how to carry yourself lest you bring any embarrassment.

        But they did not, and while Riddle grew inside his home, he watched you flourish with each passing day. Your strides grew longer and your voice settled into something more stable than a child’s, yet the grin remained the same. So did the complimenting, so did the supporting and being supported, so did the jokes. All of it remained the same, yet unlike the other constants in his life, it was unbridled and burst free like the rustling leaves of the tree that day. 

        He would sometimes nudge a stack of books aside so that he could see you clearer when you walked by. When you did not, he would wonder if you were sick. When you returned, it would be with the same liveliness you always had. Rather than him, Riddle thought that the flower always suited you more: the girl who danced in the wind and scattered petals for everyone while never running out of them herself.

        It seemed that a petal would never so much as graze his skin, though—that your smile would never make him glow, for even when you finally shared the same world, they did not come with that exuberance you had. The petals did not fall because you danced but because you peeled them off, and the glow that mesmerized him did not come from the heart but from the mind.

        “Is there a problem?” 

        Same smile. You looked away from the rosebed, your mouth already curving as you waved him off. “No. I was just admiring.”

        That was understandable, the garden really was magnificent. Riddle found himself smiling, nodding his head while casting his gaze over it as well. “Yes. Night Raven College is full of beautiful sights, but I doubt any live up to…” Wait a moment. Riddle narrowed his eyes, swiveling his head to see not a single glimpse of red. “They’re all white.”

        “There’s still time,” came your quick response. “You know Cater will paint them all.”

        “That is true…” He never had to worry about Trey or Cater. Regardless, it was a little unnerving for them to be unfinished so close to the party.

        Riddle continued to stare, thinking for a few seconds before turning to you again. “It seems you’ve settled just fine into your role.” When you first became King after he took the Housewarden position, you blindly accepted without knowing the rules. Not only have you stopped breaking them, but now you even knew who had which duty. 

        “It’s easier when you get the hang of it, Housewarden.” 

        Riddle smiled at the reply, something flickering in his chest as he was about to agree before faltering when you looked back at the roses. 

        Was there something bothering you? Was it his chance to breach the ‘Housewarden’ title you strictly stuck to with him? “…Might I ask if there is a different issue you are mulling over?”

        “Issue? No, I don’t have any problems.” You had such a maddening talent of brushing him off so easily. It was expected but his fingers still tightened around his staff, his lips frowning once more as the flicker burst into flames of frustration across his chest. “I was just wondering if the roses could be any other colour.” 

        Just like that, his annoyance was whisked away. “The roses?” he questioned, the grass spared from his glare when he looked at you once again.

        “Yeah.” Your fingers came forward to graze the petal of one, the softness with which you did so enrapturing his gaze unwittingly. “White and red are beautiful, but I want to see other colours.”

        Other colours…? Did it really matter? Either way the garden would look mostly the same. Riddle couldn’t imagine much of a difference, and it wasn’t his job to, either. The Queen of Hearts Rules clearly stated which colour they should be and when.

        Yet he found his eyes still following you, with the way you continued to study the roses. What in them did you see that you didn’t look away? Something that no one else did? Possibilities of what they could be?

        The rustle next to your head caught your attention. Riddle returned your gaze when you looked at him, though only briefly as his eyes flickered between you and the rose next to your head. ‘They would look good matching her eyes.’ The exact shade of them. Riddle could never find himself looking away, with how captivating they were. Even now his fingers stopped grazing the rose next to you to focus on the shapes in your irises. The design inside was a maze he could not find the exit of, a pattern that glowed so brightly under the sun he wondered how it was not seared into his mind despite how it burned.

        “You agree?”

        ‘Ye-’ 

        His hand nearly crushed the rose. Riddle froze, eyes widening when he realised the blatant disregard he almost showed towards the Queen of Hearts Rules and how close he was to you. 

        Just like that he was the frozen boy in your garden again. He yanked back, skin ablaze when he realised he was mulling over your eyes of all things—No, he even had the audacity to stare at them while doing so! You saw him lose focus up close! “No. The roses are to be red.” Riddle fought against his embarrassment as he turned, raising his staff so that the crown blocked his face from anyone who saw such an unbecoming display. 

        “Get ready for the unbirthday party.” What was happening to him? He could barely even think straight as he hastily walked out the garden, pulling at his collar under the heat of the sun until he was finally free.

        At least he could use the time until the party to calm himself.

        “You’re so cute, Riddle!”

        “That was the scariest thing to ever happen in my life.”

        It was supposed to be perfect. It was perfect—the decorations, the snacks, the dormouse, the roses you were staring at—everything would have been perfect if it wasn’t for that blasted tart! If it wasn’t for the blatant disrespect those first-years had towards the rules!

        And it was the exact ones he had gone easy on because of you. Wasn’t this proof that rules should be followed? He didn’t take off their heads right away and look how out of control they were now! Why, even the culprit’s companion who was yet to be collared thanks to you dared to run his mouth!

        “You dare talk back to me? You have some nerve,” Riddle glowered, hands splayed on the tablecloth while he stood over the table. “Listen to me,” he tried to explain. “Breaking minor rules can lead to major problems.”

        “You all agree that this is ridiculous, don’t you?!” Ace snapped while turning to the others. “You’re just too scared of those collars to say anything!”

        “Well, we, um…”

        Now he was trying to recruit the card soldiers who actually listened to his side? “Oh, really.” Riddle’s scowl alone was enough to make them all flinch as he spoke lowly. “You all agree?”

        “No, of course not, Housewarden!”

        “We trust your judgement in everything, sir!”

        Ace muttered something, but Riddle ignored him to enlighten everyone. “In the year since I became Housewarden, not a single student from this dorm has been held back a year or expelled. Of all the dorms, this is only true of Heartslabyul. That puts me in the right!” he explained with zeal. “I am the most powerful mage in this dorm, and the one with the best grades. Follow my orders without argument, and you will never be wrong!”

        Why did they all look at him so frightened like he was wrong? Riddle narrowed his eyes at the ground, his knuckles turning white under his glove around his staff. “I do not… take your heads because I enjoy it. It’s your own fault for breaking the rules, don’t you see that?” He could hear their grumbles, their petulant complaints and ludicrous wishes while they went about their day. Why did they always look at him like he was the villain here?!

        His grip tightened, nearly shaking from the strength of it before he whirled to you. “You understand, don’t you?”

        You also stood from your seat a while ago when he shot up, but remained silent in the disaster. Now you stiffened, brows raised while pointing at yourself. “Me?”

        Who else but you? You saw the difference between his meek younger self and how strong he was now—a leader, a housewarden, the Queen of Hearts. You knew the rules and you even knew whose role was which. And you—

        “You were the one to request I only warn them, and I did. I did not punish these first-years, and look what has happened!” His staff whirled back to point at the offenders while you raised your hands. “One steals a tart and then dares to bring a chestnut type to this unbirthday party, ruining it!”

        “It’s not ruined—”

        “And now he and his friend are both undermining the Rules! You give them an inch, and they take a mile! Entertaining rulebreakers brings nothing but disaster!” Riddle didn’t bother to wait for you, his face twisted in an ugly scowl as he swung his wand towards everyone present. “If you cannot obey me, then all of your heads will roll!”

        “Guys, come on!” Cater demanded in alarm. “Say ‘yes, Housewarden!’”

        “...I can’t.”

        “Neither can I.”

        “I wouldn’t bow to that selfish tyrant if he begged me!”

        He was trying so hard not to break. The unbirthday party was perfect, and you were here right next to him already on edge. Even so Riddle froze, eyes wide while fury burned through his veins. “What… did you just say?”

        “He said you’re a selfish, bad-tempered, food-wasting old tyrant!”

        “H-hey! We didn’t say that—!”

        Deuce tried to calm the inevitable explosion, but it was no use as Riddle cried out. “Off With Your Head!” Collars snapped around their necks, weighing on their shoulders as he snapped to his best students. “Trey! Cater! Remove these people from the premises!”

        “...Yes, Housewarden.”

        The two were dragged off. Like smog, Riddle could finally breathe again when their ridiculous yells and complaints were silenced through distance. “Now, let’s forget that unpleasantness and carry on with our party. We must make sure to hold the croquet tournament today, after all.” A loud sigh left him when the hands of the clock told him a most unfortunate story. “We’re fifteen minutes behind schedule! Simply dreadful! [Name], let’s continue eating.” He turned to you with a large smile, eager to continue conversing now that the problem was solved only to freeze when you were staring after the rulebreakers.

        What was the problem? Why, again, did you force that smile on—no, why was it worse? Did you not understand? Even when he explained to you and you saw all the evidence firsthand? 

        Riddle stared. Something whispered in his head and drowned out your reply as he stood slack.

        What would it take for you to understand? You understood, did you not?

        His chest felt tight for the most unknown reason. Riddle quietly breathed, your face morphing with confusion in his vision before he grit his teeth and sat back down.

        “Even you?” Why were you standing on their side? Why were you more worried about Ace than him? 

        “Riddle, just calm down for a second and listen to me.”

        “[Name], why aren’t you listening to me?” Why did you look so scared? Riddle heaved, the sharp pain in his chest and throat ignored as his eyes zeroed in on you. You, staring straight back at him while stepping back and your crown abandoned on the dirty ground.

        “Do you really think I’m wrong? Do you truly believe that, with your own will?” Was it not the rulebreakers that deluded you after all? Was it all you? First Trey, now you? “Even though I’ve been so good all these years! I’ve always controlled my desires. I gave up so much!”

        The reason you were not sincere with him. What changed between him and his younger self that you couldn’t ever be comfortable? That he was not foolish, that he knew the importance of rules but you did not. 

        You did not change. You never grew up, you never came to your senses, and the last time you did not force a smile on your face was before he became Queen.

        “I’m right.” Riddle sucked in a breath, raspy as he lifted his head from his hand. If he had paid attention he would’ve noticed the inky substance slipping down, but he was too focused on pointing his wand at you. “I’ve always been right!”

        “Riddle!” Trey shouted.

        “Young man, you must not cast another spell!”

        “No! I’m right!” Riddle waved his wand with a raspy shriek. “And I will always be right!”

        “You will always be alone!” He only came to ask why you weren’t beside him. He thought that the strange tension during the unbirthday party would disappear, but then you did not see him again until tonight. Now that tension was snapping at him, frozen still as his wide eyes stayed on you. “Riddle, please. I’m not saying this because I want to break some rule. I don’t care about them.” 

        You weren’t yelling anymore, but your words still managed to choke his throat. “I’m worried about you and what you’re doing to everyone, including yourself! You’re diligent and you’re hardworking and I really think you can do whatever you set your mind to.” Yes, he was, so why in the world were you complaining? “But even if you become the best doctor or whatever in the entirety of Twisted Wonderland, you will end up alone! Don’t you see that?” you asked pleadingly. “What you’re doing?!”

        What were you saying? Where was this coming from? Riddle’s mind whirled, mouth parted to take a few stilling breaths before speaking quietly. “You’re doing this because of those students, aren’t you?” The very ones that had caused so much trouble. The hands you had raised in frustration dropped as he continued. “What do you think rules are for? You witnessed what—”

        “Riddle, the Rules are dumb!” His mouth snapped shut and teeth gritted together at the incredulous interruption. “They have no reason to them! Jam for the dormouse, sing when a hedgehog sneezes, the King's place is with the Queen, the exact tea I’m supposed to drink when—what’s the reason for them?!” you demanded. Demanded. “I’m surprised there isn’t a rule telling me how much air I should breathe in—!”

        “Enough!” It was the first time he screamed at you. Riddle would have staggered just as you did if his vein wasn’t fighting against his skin. “I should have your head for that, but I will show leniency only because you are King and must’ve had your mind warped by those rulebreakers!” he snapped. “Rules create order. Organize people. Manage mayhem and prevent chaos. You need to stop coddling those who step out of line!”

        The hallway was deafeningly silent, enough that he would have heard any student choking back a breath if they were there. Only the remnants of his shouts spoke quietly, fading with each passing moment as he clenched his jaw. 

        Riddle didn’t want to scream at you, but what was he supposed to do when you were being so infuriating—

        “You don’t even know how much you’re isolating yourself. It’s sad.” Your words tore through the hallway worse than his yells ever could. It upheaved whatever fragile peace he was holding onto as it ripped into his head. “Cater is the only new friend you have since you came here. He and Trey can’t even speak to you properly, and honestly, neither can I. Just look how you’re acting now.” Was that a scoff he just heard? “God, it’s suffocating being around you.”

        Is that why you weren’t by his side today? Even when it broke a rule? Did he suffocate you?

        No. That wasn’t it.

        “You really have been deluded by them.” Of course you have. Unlike him you were weak because you did not follow the rules like he did, because your parents did not nurture you like his mother. Of course your mind would be more open to likewise individuals than it was to him.

        “This isn’t your fault, so I’ll overlook it for today. Maybe a good night’s rest will set your mind straight.” Riddle smiled at you, the lights illuminating the way he almost laughed in the face of your dense, bewildered frown staring back. “I expect you to know where you stand in the morning.”

        “Poor [Name]. You don’t even know how foolish you are.” Riddle’s laugh echoed through the garden, watching you regain your balance on the torn ground with glee. He may not have managed to strike anyone, but he did get the cracks to chase you away from the others. “If only you were educated properly, then you would know who is right and wrong.”

        The rose bush rose high over his head, the leaves and petals falling as he grinned. “‘I will be all alone’? The only dismissal you get from my side is from me, and I never gave one. Your place is by my side.” The tree cracked through the air towards your scream, ink spilling from his eyes as his heart thrummed for what was to come. “I will bestow all the education you need!”

        Why wouldn’t you be scared of him, you with your bruises and injuries? The worst of it had been healed, but scratches still lived on to bleed shame onto his skin.

        “I’m sorry… I’m really sorry…!” 

        Apologies were not enough. They never could be.

        “Why are you eating that?” Riddle could not help but to sound mortified. Not only had he seen you recoil at the first taste of his tart, but you gave no input while the rest of the group spoke. Now you were attempting to finish your plate?!

        “Relax, it tastes good. I was just surprised before.” Your laugh made his heart run yet muscles unwind as you waved him off in your seat. “Everything here’s sweet. It’s nice to try different things.”

        ‘Different things…’ Yes, his tart was definitely different. Riddle sat down defeatedly in silence, watching you eat calmly before his gaze was averted. You were clean of the dust and dirt from the fight a few days ago, but the scratches remained etched in your skin. Riddle stared at one over the rim of his teacup, the one on your cheek that was scolding him while you chewed and everyone else mingled.

        The small clink against the saucer disrupted the peace as well. “I’m sorry.”

        You looked at him, brows furrowed before swallowing with a smile. “It’s fine. It’s tastes good.”

        “No, that is not what I meant.” Riddle sighed as he shifted to face you better, even if the arm of the chair dug into the side of his leg and he looked foolish. “For the harm and stress I have caused, and the way I mistreated you.” You were the only one to try bargaining with him when he was mad, that constantly defended others from his ire. How distasteful it must’ve been to see him acting so familiar with you after it all, as if you did not hate every moment of it. “I am sorry for everything.”

        “I already said it’s okay.” Yes, when he was crying like a child amongst a ruined garden and people he tried to kill. Riddle frowned unsurely, averting his eyes to the table until you placed a hand atop it and leaned in slightly. “It’s really okay.” All he wanted was a smile without any formality all this time, any walls between you, but Riddle felt like he was watching them fall now even when a smile was not looking back at him.

        The housewarden tried not to look away under the searing designs of your eyes, or get lost in them again. “You’re too forgiving.”

        “No, it’s not that. I think you going off the rails is the blot’s fault.” How mortifying. Riddle wanted nothing more than to bury his head on the table as you looked back at your food (thankfully). “Honestly, I probably should have caught it a while ago with how weird you were acting.” Was he acting weird before the duel, which he attempted to kill Ace after? He tilted his head as he also sat properly. “And I don’t mean all the ‘rules’ stuff, either, I mean—”

        You broke off with a sigh and a halfhearted shrug. “You weren’t yourself. I always saw you studying by your window growing up—” What. You saw him too? “And I knew about your mom, so I thought that everything here was cuz’ of her, but really the few days before… Are you okay?”

        “Pardon?” Riddle snapped out of his spiralling. How was he supposed to react? All this time he thought that you didn’t notice him studying there when you walked back from school, only to find out you’d also been watching him?! It was also only just then that he realised his face was once again burning, right in clear view of you.

        Your brows scrunched, confusion clear across your expression before you snorted. “Never mind,” you muttered before taking another bite of the tart. “I’m just happy you’re still alive.”

        Yes, he could’ve died. Riddle tried to focus on that in an attempt to will away the warmth from his face as he lifted his teacup. “Yes, I’m very fortunate.”

        “And rose-y.” 

        The sudden voice and depleting weight on his head made him snap his head up. “Chenya!”

        “I heard that there was trouble in paradise.” The floating form giggled as he avoided the boy’s hand and dropped the crown onto your head. “Long live the King and Queen. And their partnership, yes of course.”

        “Chenya!” Riddle thought he had run away! What was he doing back tormenting him?!

        The cat disappeared with a giggle that echoed in the air. The two of you were left in silence, the redhead overrunning with heat yet frozen in place as you held both crowns from falling off. “‘Trouble in paradise’?” The next time he saw that person…

        “Hey, Riddle, [Name]—oh.” Cater paused in front of the table, his brows raising before he beamed. “Trying out a new look? Perfect time! I was just gonna tell you to get in the picture.”

        “Picture?” 

        Riddle looked at you when you sounded disappointed only to see you covering the scratch on your cheek as Cater assured you. “Don’t worry, you look totally badass! And cammable!”

        “Cater, you shouldn’t use foul words.”

        “Oh, right. Got it, Riddle.” A few days ago his warning would have made everyone choke up, but now Cater just laughed. The feeling was enough to make him fight back a smile of his own as the upperclassman turned away while waving you over. “Just come on! We’re all getting ready!”

        You slowly stood from your seat with a sigh. Riddle did as well, though guilt nearly made him stay silent before he forced himself to speak. “You could cover it with a bandage...”

        “No, then people would notice it more. And It’s not that bad.” What? With how prominent it was? He received his crown back from you and kept to your side while walking around the table towards the group forming at the centre of the garden. “I wanted to send the picture to my parents, but maybe not.” He understood that. Looking unkempt in any way for a photo—

        “They’d just get sad every time they see it.”

        Yes. Sad.

        Riddle didn’t reply. He wanted to say that the scratch wasn’t bad and that you looked fine, but he was unsure if your parents would still worry or not whenever they studied your photographed face. It didn’t seem like you’d be satisfied with those words anyway, as you still grazed your finger along the scratch as you did with the roses earlier.

        As you did with the roses…

        A few seconds passed where you simply watched the Heartslabyul students decide who should stand where before letting out a heavy breath. It was just a scratch. You could explain to your parents it wasn’t a big deal, and they’d just have to accept your picture as it was—

        The soft feeling that lodged itself behind your ear made you flinch before your hand came up. Soft petals soothed your fingers, and the rose’s scent wafted to your nose as a voice pricked your ears. “It really does suit you.” 

        Riddle smiled when stared at him with such wide eyes. The bright colour of his magestone faded as the flower with the same colour as your irises settled, brushing against your cheek and adding colour to your face in such a way that anyone was bound to take a second look. “It fails to cover the scratch entirely, but I doubt your parents would be upset if they were to even notice anything.” And he was confident they would not. Not when they’d be too distracted to notice the slight bit that popped out.

        You listened without a reply, mouth parted in disbelief before a loud laugh broke out. “That’s so sweet!” Your hand patted the rose with what he dared to think was fondness as the garden brightened with you. “You look so much happier already, Riddle. That's really relieving, that you're still yourself despite everything,” you said. "I hope you live easier now."

        The glow finally reached him. He almost became lightheaded at the sight as glee surged forward in him, standing straighter and fighting back the grin that nearly broke his face until Ace yelled. “Guys! Come on, we’ve been waiting forever!”

        “Oh, right! After you.”

        Riddle stood at the center with you, but that didn’t seem to be enough for Cater. “I need your majesties to be closer, please!” You exchanged an awkward glance before stepping closer, but even that was insufficient. “Closer!” Again you shifted… “Closer!”

        “He’s trying to flatten us.” This was the closest the two of you could stand without your shoulders touching. Yes, he was trying not to be as rigid as before, but Trey even said he did not have to change overnight. Could he not keep a respectable distance between you two?

        “He’s trying to make us look like a couple.” Riddle froze. He snapped his head at you, making your laugh trail off before you seemed to realise your joke was someone else’s idea. “Oh! Oh, Cater—!”

        Alas, neither of you could do anything about it when the third-year ran to join the group with his phone left behind. “Say ‘yes, my Queen!’” 

        “Yes, my Queen!”

        That time felt like a long, large chapter of his life despite taking place over the course of a mere two weeks. Maybe it felt long because it was more than a year of “tyranny”, or an entire life of strict rules untangled. Whatever the case it also felt long ago now, because he was home with his mother.

        She was nowhere to be seen, at least right now. Riddle absentmindedly stood at the desk in his old study-room, the books sorted in their places and reaching tall heights his mother wished for him. A couple had been picked out, just to thumb through yet Riddle could not even open them. They remained closed on the desk by the snow-covered window until a ping disrupted the stillness.

        As always, Cater was posting something new. A small smile stretched his lips, and Riddle found himself lifting his phone and opening Magicam.

        One good thing about Cater’s account was that he could look back on school from the comfort of his home. One bad thing were the pictures he took of him and you.

        “The majesties are back together, and Heartslabyul’s stronger than ever!” #NRC #unbirthdayparty #longlivethekingandqueen #havingablast!

        “…Ha…” A hand went to his face, but Riddle still swiped to see the secret photo Cater had taken of him slipping the rose behind your ear with magic. And as if he truly could not stop himself, he swiped again and the next picture was the two of you sharing a laugh.

        No wonder he had taken so long to call them back that day. He was still embarrassed thinking about it.

        “Riddle!” 

        A jolt shot through him as he slammed his phone down on the desk. It was only after he realised what he’d heard, eyes widening before opening the window. “What are you doing here?”

        “Nothing important. Just seeing how you’re doing, except that is important.” You made yourself laugh successfully, shoulders shaking under your jacket with a small wave before stuffing your gloved hands back in your pockets. “Everything good?”

        “Mostly.” It was so cold outside. Riddle grimaced at the immediate loss of heat and the wind that blew in, but left the windows open as he straightened again. “It is slightly difficult to have a conversation with my mother at this time.”

        “I get it.” The cold had bitten your skin as well, but you still smiled as you nodded in a direction. “Trey has a 100% friend discount going on for a lemon tart he’s baking.” you explained. “Want me to bring you a slice?”

        How was it that freezing seemed so worth it to have a moment’s conversation with you? He doubted that even snowfall would make him close the windows, yet he ended up doing just that with a small shiver. “No, I will come along with you.” Your eyes meet through the crack when you tilted your head, making his heart leap into his throat before continuing. “Kindly wait a minute.”

        Perhaps he could find something to gift his mother. Nothing large or very sweet like a tart, but something light and small without too much fat may have a chance of swaying her—or even just softening her enough to talk with. After all, Riddle was still the perfect son; He respected his mother, upheld the rules, was proficient in magic and studies, and was a housewarden at an elite school. 

        With all these qualities completed, she may just listen to him. She may accept a gift, and an invitation to build a better, sturdier, and warmer relationship between them. It would be hard but if anyone could do something difficult, it was his mother and her son.

        The thought made him nervous, almost sick to his stomach. Seeing you outside when he opened the door in the centre of blinding snow, blood seemed to wash the illness away. “Let us go,” he encouraged while locking the door behind him.

        There were no flowers at this time of year. The cold was enough to freeze the dirt and snow covered the ground and crunched under your boots when you walked, but Riddle could already imagine the next spring when you would be surrounded by them.

Yuu: "seems riddle likes [name] a lot." Grim: "that guy can like someone?" Grim when he almost gets stabbed by blot arrows: "USE HER AS A SHIELD!! YO THERES A SHIELD RIGHT THERE!!! 🗣️"

i honestly kind of missed writing which is why i finallyyyyyy did this request from abb on quotev for a special. that girl is so patient. i actually never watched the original alice in wonderland until i decided to write this like a week ago.

obviously bad part about waiting so long is that i honestly felt like i forgot how to write. im still wondering if i can write romance or if i deluded myself into thinking i could. anyways i think that blot makes the mage go crazy once they have a lot of it which is why Riddle started spiralling. also that it has physical affects cuz why was he breathing so hard. theres a lot of focus on eyes but thats cuz i feel like he'd be obsessed with looking at the eyes of someone he loves and watching them light up. eyes are soooo beautiful subhanallah what a wonderful piece of creation i adore them.

when i first heard the english dub for riddle i was SOOOO EXCITED THAT IS HOW I IMAGINED IT WOULD SOUND. SOMEONE GIVE THE VOICE ACTOR A RAISE IT WAS SOOO GOOD I WAS SO HAPPY WATCHING THE ANIME ALL THE DUB VOICES AHGHGHGH IM LIVING. also guys did u see the minajael tealrajah guy? im gonna have to complete book 7 im still on chapter like 40 lol.

ok i hope all of u are having a wonderful day and that u have wonderful lives. thank u for reading!!