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Chapter Text

MONDAY

Whispers of the latest party news died down as students in the hallways noticed the infamous crimson tyrant passing them by.

One of the students abruptly stopped chatting and jumped out of their skin as soon as Riddle spared them a glance. He was aware of their fear, and he understood it, but sometimes it felt like they were doing too much. 

A Scarabia party hardly sounded like anything to quiet down about. In fact, he already knew about it since during their latest housewarden meeting, Kalim hadn't exactly been discreet about asking Crowley for permission to host it. And knowing the headmage’s weakness to money the Al-Asims, it was a no brainer the party planning was already in motion.

Riddle ignored the cautious stares and silence the rest of his way to class.

—

“I’m so sorry, Headmage! I completely forgot!” At the mention of permit slips he was meant to print out, Kalim lowered his head in apology in the middle of the headmage’s office. “I’ll get them to you tomorrow!”

“Dear me… Well, I suppose with the amount of times Scarabia has thrown a banquet, a party shouldn’t be much of a difference.” Crowley held his head in thought, “I could make an exception!”

“Wahh really?!” Kalim sighed in relief, and fixed his posture, “Thank you, Headmage!”

“Oho, it’s no problem.” Crowley laughed proudly to himself as he wrote Kalim a letter of approval. “But yes, I am so kind.”

Kalim walked out of the office with his letter of approval and trademarked joy. As soon as he made it into the hallway, he wasted no time in telling his classmates all about his Spring at Scarabia! Party. He passed by Ace and Deuce on his way to his classroom and excitedly invited them.

There wasn’t much conversation amongst the three, Ace was quick to accept and began asking for details.

“Next Tuesday…” Ace held his chin but it was obvious no thought actually went through his head. “Weird to be in the middle of the week but sure!” 

“Wait—” Deuce held onto Ace’s shoulder as if to prevent him from getting too eager, “— That’s our week for flamingo duty.”

The truth dawned on him as Ace’s grin shifted into a frown of realization. Knowing it was a party meant that it would probably be lasting until late at night. No way in Tartarus would Riddle allow any of his card soldiers to so much as pull an all nighter out of the dorms, especially if they have designated chores the next day. And for a party? That might just be actual decapitation.

Kalim watched the two and their frustrated expression, “Why don’t you just ask him? I’m sure Riddle could consider, I mean Jamil and I will be supervising!”

Deuce found no comfort in that statement, in fact he suspected Riddle would criticize more if he heard Kalim was the one supervising.

“Thanks Kalim.. But I don’t think we can finalize our attendance yet.” Ever so formal, Deuce bowed his head.

“It’s no problem, I’m sure everything will work out!” Kalim tried to sound upbeat and patted Ace and Deuce in reassurance.

—

Ace and Deuce sat together at the library. 

The ginger propped his feet up on the chair to his left as he leaned on Deuce to his right. He held paper but rather than writing notes, he created a lazy paper-fortune teller. Deuce on the other hand struggled to study as he hunched forward yet still felt Ace’s hair on his neck.

“Do you have to occupy 3 chairs?” Deuce complained, tightening the grip on his pen.

Ace ignored him and started on a paper plane. “Man, I was with Epel during alchemy and he told me even he was going to the party.”

“Woah, really?” Deuce placed down his pen and rested his head on his hand, “I woulda thought Vil would be against the idea of a party, seeing it could probably affect Epel’s sleep. You know he’s really precise about that? He caught us gaming once, it was scary.”

“I thought the same! But apparently it’s good for ‘social status’, and that matters more? I wonder if there’s a queen rule about partying.” Ace slumped and his head fell between Deuce’s back and the chair’s backrest, “Ouch–”

“Maybe if you got up…”

“Im in mourning! My brother went to parties all the time with his gang.”

Deuce stiffened, “Your brother was in a gang? Maybe you look familiar…”

“What? No, I meant his friends.” Ace gave him a weird look. “He’d tell me all about it and teach me party tricks.”

“Is that where you got all your magic tricks from?”

“Partially, I actually found them interesting after learning a few and taught myself the rest.”

“Ooo, what’s happening here?” From the entrance of the library, the card-duo were met with Kalim and Jamil, looking like they were there to study as well.

“Don’t bother them, Kalim—” Before Jamil could finish reprimanding him, Kalim had already made his way to the other two.

“Are you guys studying? Me and Jamil were about to as well!” The second-year leaned on their table and easily chatted them up.

“Jamil! Kalim! Good afternoon!” Deuce shoo-ed Ace away from his seat and sat properly, “Well I was trying to study.”

Ace stuck his tongue out in reply and fixed himself on his chair. “I’m still pretty bummed about the party, okay! Literally everyone else is going.” 

“Have you guys actually asked Riddle yet?” Jamil interjected, pulling up a chair for both him and Kalim.

Ace crossed his arms and shook his head, “Riddle would drink iced tea before letting us stay up partying during duty week.”

“Wow, no benefit of the doubt there, huh.”

“It’s not like we expect so little of our housewarden!” Deuce stuttered out, “We just don’t assume he’d um.. Let us do something possibly irresponsible?”

“If you put it that way,” Jamil pointed, “Your made-up delusion Riddle has a point. You’re digging your own grave with that logic.”

“Nah. straight up, I just wish Riddle would chillax once in a while. I mean it’s that rigidness that—” 

Ace let the remainder of the sentence die on his tongue as he glanced at Jamil.

He clicked his tongue and waited for someone else to talk.

“What if we could help him?” Kalim suggested, “Maybe do something that can guarantee he’ll let you go?” 

Deuce raised his brows “What do you mean?”

“Kalim, that’s terribly vague.” Jamil said,

“Think about it!” The housewarden urged, “Maybe someone or something that um.. inspires? him to go or be more outgoing! I mean if he were to go, he’d definitely let you guys too!”

“Great sevens.” Ace’s eyes lit up, “Are you saying we should get him a boyfriend?”

“What!” Deuce’s face flushed and he hit Ace’s arm, “When did he at all imply that?!”

“I mean, him getting a date would surely make him at least a bit laid back, no? What’s up deucey-chan? Flustered at the idea of Riddle kissing someone?” In honesty, Ace would also be speechless at the sight, but teasing Deuce was a priority.

“What– no— I mean, yes?” 

Ace laughed at Deuce’s spluttering and scooched away from the blue-haired student’s biceps.

“Riddle dating someone is an interesting idea…” Jamil said, thinking about the pros and cons.

“Huh?” Deuce’s attention snapped away from Ace, “Jamil, you’re enabling this?!”

“Of course not. I don’t think you should be meddling with someone else’s affairs, much less literal affairs.” He side-eyed Kalim, noting that he’s probably already contemplating the idea. “Although, getting Riddle in a relationship sounds like it’d give mutual benefits.”

Deuce, although still visibly uncertain with the idea, seemed to have been considering it. 

“But—” Jamil continued, “Everyone knows Riddle prioritizes his academics and rules more than anything. I, for one, respect his consistency, but others wouldn't. No one would get with someone if they’re not sure they can put them first.”

Ace, once again, deflated into his seat. “Damnit.. I forgot he had that kinda rep. I don't think any of my classmates would date him.”

Ever-so-optimistic Kalim proposed that he could ask around the second years. “I’m sure there’s someone!” 

Ace beamed, “No way, you’d actually do that for us!?” 

“Hold on, first, it’s not set in stone yet. We’re not sure if we can find someone.” Jamil reminded, “And you realize we’d have to set someone up and get Riddle to like them all in under a week.”

Deuce nodded with Jamil’s reasoning, “This doesn’t seem like the strongest plan.”

“But it’s possible!” Kalim pushed, “We aren’t aiming to get them official, just something that would welcome Riddle to the idea of, maybe, a serious relationship. Riddle in love! Can you imagine? He deserves it!”

“Yeah!” Ace cheered, “Don’t you wanna see our housewarden in love?”

“Not forced love..” Deuce commented, “Is it really smart or moral to be playing matchmaker?”

“I agree with Deuce. Even if we manage to get someone Riddle likes, he wouldn't just compromise his values. The ending results are too blurry for this to be a solid plan.” The vice-housewarden states.

“That’s good enough for us! As long as there's hope!” Ace brought himself closer to Jamil's ear and brought his hand around his mouth, hiding his words, “What if I start like ultra glazing you in front of coach? I know you’ve been thinking about making captain.”

“Quite desperate there, Trappola.” Jamil whispered back, “You do play your cards right.”

Ace grinned in satisfaction, leaning away. “All is fair in Night Raven.”

 Jamil placed a hand on his hip and directed himself to Deuce, “Well, it’s not as if we’ll be forcing someone to get with Riddle. Neither will we push the plan if it fails. Kalim and I will discuss the boundaries of the mission,” 

“Pleasure doin’ business with ya, teammate!” Ace shook his hand which Jamil halfheartedly reciprocated.

“And.” Jamil tightened his grip, “Not a word of the details to anyone else.”

“Of course not.”

The Scarabia duo excused themselves to another table to get on with their studying, leaving Ace and Deuce back alone.

“Ace, I’m still not so sure about this.”

“C’mon Deuce. It’s not like getting lai…err.. It’s not like getting a boyfriend would hurt!”

Deuce frowned, “Yeah, but the way we’re only doing this to get into a party… It feels kinda shallow. Maybe Jamil is right, we should give him the benefit of the doubt.”

“Jamil can’t call us shallow, and they already agreed.” Ace reasoned, “Like they said if it doesn’t work out, they’ll stop. Housewarden wont get hurt, we’ll live with the satisfaction that we tried. So there’s nothing to lose!”

“Fine..”

Just as Deuce was about to continue his notes, he jolted upright and stared at Ace in horror. Ace flinched as well at the sudden movement and looked back at the man in confusion and slight-annoyance.

“Dude, what gives?”

“Is Housewarden even gay?!”

Well.

Que sera sera?

Chapter Text

WEDNESDAY

Kalim and Jamil sat down tiredly on their seats, preparing for their history lesson.

They had spent yesterday asking around their classes, and even dormmates, about courting Riddle, but were met with no results.

–

“No way.” One said flatly.

“You have to be kidding.” Said another, even laughing as if it was genuinely funny. His smile faded as soon as he realized the duo weren’t kidding, “Not a chance.”

One screamed and ran.

And the last one looked Kalim up and down and asked, “How much will you pay me?”

That’s when they signed off for the day.

–

As he put the last of the books on their desk, Jamil sighed and relaxed on his seat. “Maybe we should call off this entire arrangement. I can tell Ace during practice.”

“No!” Kalim protested, “We can’t give up yet! We’ve got to find a guy. Riddle’s guy!”

“Kalim, we're looking for someone who, at the very least, isn't afraid of Riddle.” Jamil said, “That’s not an easy feat, to find a guy like that on an insane time limit.”

“But—”

Ruckus from the side of the classroom interrupted Kalim as he spoke. They both looked towards the root of the noise, seeing two of their classmates currently in a feud.

Namely, Riddle and Floyd. Which was weird. Because Floyd wasn’t their classmate.

Riddle, fuming red, attempted on his tippy-toes to retrieve what seemed to be a piece of paper while yelling as Floyd held it up and over his head.

“Nyahahehehahe, c’mon goldfishie, just a little higher, you can do it!” Floyd taunted, which only enraged Riddle more.

The redhead tried to collar him out of nature, naturally only for Floyd to reflect the spell to their unfortunate classmate. And so, in a fit of rage, Riddle stomps on the taller’s foot which successfully caused him to bend down, giving Riddle the opportunity to snatch the paper. However, his hands slipped and failed. Allowing Floyd to once again regain the upperhand. 

Breaking their gaze from the fight, Kalim gasped and shook Jamil’s arms.

“Do not even.”

Kalim’s smile widens, “He’s our guy. He’s Riddle's guy!”

“Keep it down!” Jamil chided, “And no. No way.”

“But why? This is perfect!” Kalim said enthusiastically, “He’s clearly not scared of him, and they already have a relationship!”

“Yeah, a hateful one!” Jamil reminded,

“Trust me, Jamil! I can see this working out!” Kalim held the other’s hands tightly in a fist, looking him in the eyes hoping to convince him.

“You see everything working out.” Jamil closed his eyes in defeat. It definitely wasn’t smart, but they had already fallen so deep into the endeavor— truly, what could they lose? In the end, even without magic, Kalim and his pure motives prevail. “Fine.”

The housewarden cheered loudly, loud enough to attract some of the attention of those around him.

“We’ll see how it goes,” he added, pinching the bridge of his nose. “But he’s our last try. If Floyd doesn’t take up the offer, then we end this.”

In the background, while Floyd is sent away to his respective class by Professor Trein, Riddle is sent to the headmage for a behavioral slip. Heartbroken and reluctantly, Riddle exits the classroom whilst uttering what one can only assume were less than pleasant words.

—

After school, the Scarabia duo made their way into the Monstro Lounge. They took in the cool-toned atmosphere, quite the contrast to their own dorm. The lounge, just as always, was busy and ever-so beautifully organized. Jamil could smell the money that practically waltzed into Azul’s pockets.

“Jamil!” A familiar cunning voice pierced the ears, “I was pleasantly surprised to hear you would be visiting, may I ask how I may be of help?”

Jamil rolled his eyes and let the kind words fly over his head as he stared Azul down. The other smiled his same old rehearsed smile— one that clearly did not reach his eyes that narrowed as if he were analyzing at every given moment.

“We aren’t here for you.” Jamil clarified, “We’re here for Floyd.”

“Ah, so mea—” Azul’s mouth went shut and he threw away the act, “What could you want with Floyd? I’ve made it clear that your basketball talk will not be tolerated as an interruption of work.”

“It’s—”

“It’s about Riddle!” Kalim exclaimed.

‘None of your business’ is what Jamil was meant to say, but it was only a matter of time until Kalim spilled some of the truth anyway. And while it still remained as none of the octavinelle housewarden’s business, no one could miss how his eyes perked up and his smile twitched. Meaning, his or not, Azul would now find a way to keep himself updated on said business.

“I see.” Azul cleared his throat nonchalantly, “Follow me to my office, you can consult with him there.”

-

“Anything you tell Floyd, you will just have to tell us.” Azul said smugly after Jamil’s complaint of the presence of both him and Jade.

“This is neither of your concerns.” Jamil spat through gritted teeth,

“Why,” Jade placed his hand on his chest with a mischievous smile, “I’m his beloved twin, I don’t how matters with my brother isn’t my concern!” 

“Heeey can we get this goin’? Whaddya want?” From the floor, Floyd sat complaining, already looking mildly frustrated.

“Yes yes! Jamil, we’re running out of time!” Kalim urged, “I don’t think Azul nor Jade would get in the way. In fact I think they’d help!”

“We will not be asking for help from Azul.” Jamil said, voice sharp and rapid. “..Ugh.”

He pulled Kalim to the corner, away from the mermen. In a hushed tone, he whispered, “Do you remember what this is for?”

The white haired heir looked at him confused, “Yeah? Didn’t we agree that finding someone for Riddle would be awesome?”

He supposes that wasn’t completely a lie, he wasn’t sure how Kalim even missed that much. Just forget that it all stems from the desire of some freshmen to attend a party. Jamil sucked in his breath. Yeah, let’s go with that. 

The two turn around to address Floyd, and finally, they laid out their proposal.

“Are you interested in going out with Riddle?” Jamil asked, scanning the other’s face for any clue of intrigue. From bored and blank, Floyd’s eyes widened the slightest bit, his lips lightly parted and the brunette could swear there was a faint glisten in his eyes.

Kalim watched excitedly, “So so??? Go out with Riddle!” 

“Hold!” Azul interrupted, “What are the details of this deal? What do you gain?”

Jamil gave him the stink eye and corrected him. “This isn’t a deal, Azul. It’s an idea. You must mistake us as the type to bet on affairs?”

“Oh, I meant no such thing.” Jamil and Azul, though smiling at each other, held each other's stare for a thousand yards. As if in the moment they had a telepathic battle of distrust.

“But if you must know—” Jamil hid his smirk, “You’re free to ask Kalim.”

Azul’s smile quickly deflated before snapping back to a much more strained expression. “I..see. So, Kalim, my fellow housewarden, what exactly does a date with Riddle entail?” 

“Uh.. entail? Oh, it entails his happiness! We were talking about it with his freshman,” Azul almost grunts at the answer, knowing Jamil must have had one vastly different. Though he notes that if Kalim was able to be roped into the situation as seemingly someone important— an instigator— perhaps there’s truth in the statement.

Jamil could feel Azul slowly connecting the dots. He met Kalim’s eyes with a warning before he continued. “We were all thinking about how he could use someone to lighten up. It’d make him happier!”

While Azul could have been better off without the information of the Ace and Deuce’s involvement, Jamil was relieved that’s all he slipped out. Clearly, Azul didn’t feel the same. His body language, the slight twitch in his veiled smile, the stimming of his fingers, even his knitted brows held the suspicion that there was an underlying truth.

But like all businessmen do, they deal with the compromise, they invest in their given wisdom. “What do we gain?”

Jamil had expected that question. “We are consulting Floyd as a person. Not an employee nor a student under octavinelle. As far as we are concerned, Floyd’s incentives are to be negotiated with him.”

“Well we don’t have to gain anything, it’s not like we’re doing it for ourselves.” Kalim said, but was brushed off.

Azul sighed, “Well played, Viper.”

“My my. From that, I assume ‘going out’ means long term. This is quite the ask. Isn’t that interesting, Floyd?” Jade nudged his brother who was unusually quiet. Obviously, Jade was quick to clock that. Now his statement held more truth. With the proposition and Floyd’s uncharacteristic response— Jade smiled at the implications.

“Goin’ out with Goldfishie? Hey, that just might be a lot of fun!” Floyd giggled, swaying back and forth.

Jamil skeptically raised his brows. Fun was temporary, they needed commitment. An unreasonable ask, but an essential one nonetheless. “You wouldn’t get bored of it, would you?” 

“Nah.” Floyd’s smile didn’t waver, it grew. His response came quickly and confidently. “Goldfishie’s always interesting, imagine how cool it would be to go on a date!”

“This is awesome!” Kalim cheered, wrapping his arms around Jamil, “We did it!”

Jamil glared and slowly released himself from Kalim’s grip. He looked over at Azul’s frowning face, his eyes never changed. Calculating, suspicious, and investigative.

“Well, that was all the business we had.” Jamil walked back to the door and opened it for Kalim, signaling him to go first.

“Thanks, Jamil!” Kalim skipped towards the exit and once he stepped one foot out of the door, he perked up and looked at the octotrio. “I forgot! You guys should totally come to our party on Tuesday!”

Jamil stiffened and subtly pushed Kalim out of the door to make his way out as well. 

“Thank you for having us.” He lowered his head to avoid any more eye contact with the three but from the corner of his eyes, he noticed Azul’s face contort to that of a face that realized it may have gotten some kind of key information.

-

Kalim and Jamil walked out of the dorm vastly different— a white haired student happily bouncing at their endeavors, feeling noble and proud. Whilst a brunette walked with a slight slouch and the feel that he had done something shallow. Jamil shook his head as if to shake his conscience, trying to rationalize the plan he and Kalim decided to execute. Floyd’s acceptance was one thing, and if everything worked out, there shouldn’t be any problem. Floyd and Riddle are happy, everyone gets what they want. Though one could speculate, Floyd didn’t show much signs of actually harboring any feelings for Riddle. Fun was all they had. And he just hoped to the sevens that was enough.

-

Going back to the trio, Azul kept his wits about the situation. 

‘To lighten him up?’ Azul found the phrasing quite suspicious. Factoring in the inclusion of the freshmen, some of which are notorious for being rebellious, and the party— needless to say Azul already had his conclusions.

“Floyd, tell me, truly, why are you doing this?” He asked, skeptical about Floyd’s willingness to agree.

Floyd’s face remained unbothered. “Like I said, it sounds fun.”

Azul wasn’t satisfied. “Do you know how serious this is? Dating Riddle, it’ll either result in the forging of a great ally or a formidable opponent. It’s not an easy task.”

“Why doubt our skills, Azul?” Jade chuckled, “If Riddle doesn’t reciprocate Floyd’s advances, then it’ll be just like how it always is. If he does.. well that’s ideal. Let Floyd play with his toys.”

“Goldfishie as a toy,” Floyd repeated. His eyes squinted at the wording. Jade carefully examined Floyd’s reaction. “Whatever.”

Chapter Text

THURSDAY

Bored as ever, Floyd decided to escape to the library after school in an attempt to avoid doing his job while he waited for basketball practice to start. (That pays minimum wage, by the way!).

He had no interest in actually reading or studying any material, the route to the library just felt familiar. It was like his subconscious had made it second nature for his human legs to lead him to the library. And they didn’t disappoint. Because everytime, he would always see him, he always saw his lil’ Goldfish.

Floyd was drawn to the guy. At first it was fascination— his temper towards law that matched Floyd’s lawless mood swings, and not to mention the bright red hair. The hair, no doubt, was what initially brought him Floyd’s attention. The sea didn’t have enough light for red, and for Floyd, Riddle was basically what you would call a flashbang. Literally.

He thought back to their first day, orientation day, when Floyd fell into the temptation of touching the redhead’s hair and Riddle reacting explosively— flinging him across the room with magic. Floyd didn’t even think someone so small could hold that much power, much less need two teachers to hold him back! It was that day Floyd decided becoming human might have not been the most boring idea after all. The fishies in their homeland were all weak and no fun, but up here? Floyd found thousands of other people that could beat him at his own game. Sue him for having a favorite!

Finally, he made it to the library doors. He peaked inside and confirmed his hopes.

There, diligently as always, was his Goldfish studying something that was probably 2 grades advanced. He was always up to learning about the weirdest things. Floyd’s mind drifted to the ‘proposition’ he and Jamil talked about the day before. A perfect opportunity!

The eel crouched and discreetly went in to make his entrance.

“BOO!” 

Riddle jumped in his seat and his pen drew across his notebook. Without looking, he already had an idea as to who would even dare to think of disrupting his studies.

“Floyd.” Needless to say, Riddle felt his anger ready to burst and his face already flushing with rage. 

“Heya Goldfishie!” Floyd wrapped his arms around Riddle, snuggling against his hair.

“Let go of me, heathen!” Riddle screamed.

His attempts to push Floyd away remained fruitless. He grabbed his magic pen and summoned a bit of fire— not too much to actually burn anything, but just enough to hopefully zap the little housewarden to freedom.

“Yeowch!” Floyd held the side of his stomach, “Hey, how’d ya do that?”

“Maybe,” Riddle began to create space between them two, “You should consider buttoning your shirt properly, instead of leaving them half open like an animal!”

“Goldfishie’s playin’ dirty…” Floyd giggled, making his way closer to Riddle, sitting beside him and ruining the attempts of personal space. “Hey, hey, I got somethin’ to ask.”

“The answer is no, Floyd.” Riddle replied with his last nerve hanging by a thread. “Would you let me be?!”

Every attempt of civility never worked with Floyd. But Riddle noticed, and will give credit, that he was unusually tame. That was a sad truth, seeing how the other man had just screamed behind him and momentarily trapped him in his arms.

“You don’t even know if it’s a yes or no question!” Riddle’s eyes focused on his textbooks, trying to drown out the nuisance.

“But it is—” Riddle rolled his eyes, it was no use to keep up with Floyd’s antics, not when he had better things to do. In fact, he wishes he could find enough merit to feel entitled to be as carefree as Floyd, but Riddle was a man of his goals. Riddle was a man built to be what he was expected to be. Riddle was—

“Anyways would you go out with me?”

Riddle was choking. 

The embarrassing sound he let out of confusion and surprise made him a spluttering mess. He must have misheard. Right? Riddle stood and spun around to face Floyd.

“What sick joke are you playing?” He demanded, as much as he attempted to control his voice volume, the eel’s relaxed and ‘Huhh i did no wrong!’ face started to enrage him.

Floyd tapped his fingers on the table, “Heeh? I’m not joking, Goldfishie.” 

“Well then the answer is no!” Riddle declared, angrily picking up his materials. “Are you trying to play with my emotions? Such a stupid way—”

“What, nooo!” Floyd sat upright and held Riddle’s hand as if to stop him from packing up, “No, Goldfishie—”

“Asking me out with that stupid nickname, as well! You have to be joking!” He pulled his hand away from the other

“Nah bro, listen.” Riddle was not convinced.

“I’m interested in ya, Goldfishie.” He was supposed to pull away, but for a second, Riddle’s eyes felt vulnerable as he stared into the sincerity of the captivating olive and gold.

“I..” Riddle hesitated, “You can’t just ask me out.”

Well that was bad news to tell Sea Snake. “Why not?”

Riddle groaned, “Don't you understand? I don't believe you. And your manner of which you even approached me doesn't sway me any further.”

“Then let me convince you.” Floyd challenged.

“What?”

Floyd stood, looking Riddle dead in the eye, “Let me court you.”

“Is this.. some kinda puzzle to you?” The Housewarden didn't rip eye contact, in fact, he scowled even harder. “I refused, so now you have to push harder?”

In face of retaliation, Floyd could only frown back as a natural response, “Why can't you just believe me? I really am interested in you.”

“And when you stop?” The tension felt thicker as Riddle argued, “When I stop becoming interesting, what was it for, then? Why involve another emotion? What if nothing comes of it, what was the point?”

“Does that matter?” Floyd barked, fanning the flames, “Why are you acting like there are rules to this type of thing?”

“Because there are! You can't just jump into a situation, there are precautions, and your carefree attitude is a giveaway to how you are apathetic to these possibilities.”

Floyd could have, he should have, backed down. But he didn't, and he never was one to anyway. Always fighting any fight he wanted, losing or not. But genuine frustration built up and he didn't understand why. Maybe it was Riddle's belief that he wasn't capable of loving him. Floyd knew he didn't like that. Just the general idea the other had felt disgustingly wrong. It felt like a refusal of feelings that weren't actually there, yet feelings nonetheless.

“But this ain't just another situation. No amount of possibilities would be stronger than me wanting to court you, and if one thing outweighs the other, I mean you gotta take it off the scale!”

Riddle exhaled sharply, “Desire is strong, but have you ever thought of its worth? How—”

“That really how you think? That relationships ain't worth the shot?” Floyd scoffed, “Why can't you take the chance, huh? So many risks to compare against something you don't even bother to look at. You never actually do it. What if this, what if that. People fear over this tiny housewarden, but a coward is all he is. Call me carefree all ya want because at least I can actually tell I care enough to try. You don't, and all ya do is excuses excuses to stay close minded. That's all ya know, and that's all you'll be.”

The silence that filled seconds later was far too loud to be allowed in a library.

“..And you ask me why I don't accept your request?” Riddle stared at him in disbelief. His anger died. He couldn't even muster the strength to rebuke. It had been a long day of nonstop piling of work that Crowley insists are for character building, he'd rather not add another problem on his plate. 

Floyd can feel he pushed maybe a little too far. He's upset. But Floyd can't be sure if he's talking about Riddle or himself. The visual of his Goldfish so defeated was unnatural, it almost made him shiver. The lack of reaction wasn't boring, though. It was just concerning, Floyd didn't want to just let it be. There were too many things happening to Floyd's conscience and emotions for him to act rational.

He cleared his throat, and asked again. “You are interesting, Goldfishie. But it's more than that. All these other fishies are as borin' as alchemy. In a school, the first fish I would look for to mess with is you. Im. I'm sorry for sayin' all that stuff. I get that I guess you're not all that used to bein’ asked like that, so you bein' all worried makes sense. I just needja to know that I really do want to take a chance with you. To..uh.. hold your hand, know you, maybe chase you somewhere different than a library. It might not… end up happy or whatever, but to experience what could be, I think that's good enough.”

“So, can I please court you?” 

With a different tone, a different look in his eyes, even Floyd could feel it in himself the sincerity he's allowing himself to convey, and he hopes Riddle can feel it too. It's strange to feel so strongly about a ‘proposition, especially one he claimed to do for fun. Usually his course of action was doing things half way— this was not a regular track he had to run on. He yearned for resolution.

Awkwardly, the two were silently looking at each other. Floyd saw how Riddle's face twitched, almost as if analyzing Floyd's expression, looking for any hint at a jest. Nothing he would find.

Finally, he speaks.

“That. Was oddly poetic.” Riddle states, which brought Floyd a glimmer of hope. “And, I'll have you know that that apology is terrible.”

The glimmer of hope started to whisk away, until Riddle continued slowly. “But it's you. And it's in my own interest to admit that you aren't completely wrong. For that, I apologize too. It was wrong for me to disregard your emotions like that. I can be close minded, and that is something I'm working on to change."

"Thus, I ought to remind you that..” Riddle paused. He wiped his face in exasperation, “Ugh. That there are certain courting rituals of which I expect you to at least adhere to some."

Holy sevens? he thought. He sucks in a breath of air in excitement. Floyd's serious and genuine-romantic air easily dissipated as he placed his arms on Riddle's shoulders and jumped. “You’ll let me!? Oh you love me, Goldfishie!” 

“Don’t get it twisted! Not at all do I see you in a romantic light!” Riddle scolded.

“Ow”

“But. I feel the sincerity. And I suppose it's not fair for me to deny you something wherein I truthfully lose nothing. I respect your attempt; although I prefer you ask with more effort.” Riddle said, “That would show me how serious you actually take me for.”

Floyd smiled, Floyd grinned. It’s never linear— it’s never just black and white, yes or no. Goldfishie’s giving him a challenge, a test to his credibility.

“You can start—” Floyd cocked his head to the side. Damn, already starting? 

“—By giving me back my letter.” 

Letter? What letter? 

Oh! Floyd remembered how he had ambushed Riddle during class, the same day of the ‘proposition’. Floyd usually returned Riddle’s items after having his fun, but that particular letter, Floyd wanted to keep forever. Not for sentimental value, not to piss Riddle off, but because it bittered his thoughts to think of his Goldfish holding something so cruel.

The note read ‘From: Mother’— which could be seen as a sweet gift, although anyone who knew Riddle knew that his mom wasn’t anywhere as sweet as the Heartslabyul tarts. In respect for the other’s privacy, (Floyd isn’t a full monster), he had kept it closed during the entire kerfuffle. But Floyd did manage to sneak a glance. In angry wording, Riddle’s mother had scolded him about his ‘current behavior’, or in other words, the way he’d been trying to take things easier since his overblot. Essentially, his mother was disapproving her own son’s healing, claiming it was ‘slacking off’. (There was a GREAT chance she didn’t even know the full story.) 

Floyd wouldn't claim to know Riddle on such a level, but even he knows that Riddle would dwell on what his mother says. A parent's word sticks to their child, no matter how close they are. Floyd doesn't necessarily understand, but he knows after everything, Riddle still greatly respects his mother and values her opinions. No matter how cruel and unforgiving they could be.

So Floyd took it. Floyd took the words that his Goldfish didn’t deserve. He doesn't care if he's already read it, there's a good chance he has, but Floyd refused the idea of him having a tangible reminder of all he is thought to be by the one person who needs to tell him it's okay. One day, maybe he’d give it back, but the invalidation that this so-called mother is good for is not what Riddle needed.

“Nah, I’ll keep it.” Floyd said.

Naturally, this infuriated Riddle. Floyd liked that, and now that they were at their original pace, it gave him more room for his mischief.

“But instead of focusing on that..” Floyd swiped Riddle’s notebook from his hands, “You can focus on catchin’ me now!! Nyahaha!!”

“Grk! You—” Riddle tried to recover from the whiplash of the mood change, he wasted no time in placing the rest of his books down to prepare for his daily chase.

He should have known that Floyd was bound to pull another stunt. It happened so often, Floyd’s chase began to follow a specific path each time. A path that Riddle noticed just so happened to lower the chances of getting caught by the librarian.

From their usual spot, Floyd would take off straight until the history books, and then he’d take a left to anatomy. Once he’d reach the beastmen, he’d take another left to linguistics. Like clockwork, as soon as Riddle read ‘Comparison of beastmen anatomy’ on the cover of a book, he paced himself to turn to the nearest left. Sometimes Riddle would ask himself why he even let the shenanigans drag on. Sometimes Riddle sighed in disappointment as he wheezed after every pursuit. But it was every time Riddle held back a small smile as he chased after Floyd’s back.

Sue him. It was his study break, anyway.

—

Ace waited for a water break to call off the plan with Jamil. Deuce had made an excellent point, neither of them really knew Riddle’s sexuality, and it didn’t feel right to just assume.

He walked towards Jamil who was chatting with Floyd by the bleachers. 

“I’m offering you my help.” Jamil said, placing a towel on his shoulder after wiping his forehead, “We don’t want anything to go wrong.”

Oh? Intrigued, Ace hid behind the basket of basketballs, listening in.

“You sayin’ I’d mess up?” Floyd replied, “I’d say Goldfishie’s definitely into me!”

Gold— Housewarden?!

“Also, you aren’t slick, Crabby.” Floyd added.

“Woaah, you got me, haha!” Ace awkwardly emerged from the basket and stood beside Jamil. “So. What’s this about?”

“Just get ready to see me more in your little parties!” Floyd cackled and tossed his towel on the ground, “Don’t sweat the details, Sea snake. I gotchu.”

Floyd ran back to the center of the court, leaving Jamil to debrief Ace on what happened.

“Hold. Wait." Ace stopped Jamil from starting a sentence. “Hold awwn. You actually got someone?!”

“I’m a man of competency.” Jamil remarked.

“I’ll really make sure coach knows that.” Ace drank a sip of water and breathed out in relief, “And here I was about to call it off.”

Jamil peeped a sound of confusion, “Why?”

“Oh..well” Ace held his nape, “Lols, I actually didn’t know if Riddle was gay.”

“.What.”

Chapter Text

FRIDAY

After another half hour of Professor Crewel calling them puppies every 5 minutes, Deuce was excited to get to track and field. His brain had just done a thousand reps, it was about time he got some other muscle training.

On his way to the school’s field, a menacing voice calls his name. Not his name, exactly, but a voice that called out “Mackerel”.

He turned around to Floyd lazily trudging towards him with his hands in his pockets.

“Where’s Goldfish?” He asked. Succinct, concise, straight to the point. Floyd didn’t seem like he was joking.

“That’s um.” Deuce tried to jog his memory on Floyd’s various nicknames, but so far he’d only memorized his, Ace’s and the rest of the first years. 

“That’s… Housewarden Riddle?” He guessed, 

“Duh”

lucky guess!

“Oh! He must be on his way to the Heartslabyul gardens for the flamingos.” Deuce said. “If you’re planning to visit him then you should wear—”

“Nice. Don't care ‘bout the rest. Thanks Mackerel!” Floyd gave him his usual ‘lol im probs up to no good’ smile and left.

Succinct, concise, and straight to the point. In retrospect, Deuce wasn’t sure if it was alright to dox his Housewarden like that, but he’s confident that Riddle could take on Floyd if he were to try anything.

— 

Riddle donned a simple salmon-pink cardigan on top of knee-length pink jorts. It wasn’t his favorite combination, but he’d bought those clothes specifically for tending to the flamingos, so he argues style isn't the priority. 

He began gathering up the flamingos, counting them by 4s to make sure not one was missing or would miss out on feeding time. After all the animals were accounted for, Riddle grabbed a trowel to scoop the mixture of foods and lay them out on the feeding plot in front of the flamingos. Whilst supervising, he noticed that one had been getting blocked by the others, unable to get to the food. Riddle sighed, when would these little guys learn to not be so greedy?

He left the area for a while to enter a small shed filled with supplies for the garden, from hedgehog food to leaf trimmers, to grab gloves for the occasional flamingo hand-feeding.

As he got back, Riddle scooped food in his hands to prepare. Although on his way, he stood stunned. For in front of the flamingo he was to feed was, who else would dare, but Floyd Leech, in his unsanitary, improper manner, hand-feeding with no gloves nor proper equipment. 

“What do you think you’re doing here?” Riddle yelled, rushing to the man, pushing him away from the flamingo. 

“Hey!” Floyd complained, “I’m helping! That’s what octavinelle is all about! Generosity and how good we are ‘n stuff.”

“Oh to be as benevolent as you all claim to be.” Riddle scolded passive aggressively, “While I would appreciate it— you’re not even dressed for the job, besides the point, you aren’t even meant to be on Heartslabyul grounds! You’re trespassing and being ignorant is what you’re doing!”

Riddle began tending to the flamingo the same way Floyd had been.

As Floyd’s mood began to sour, he then registered Riddle’s outfit

That offly-coordinated outfit that got progressively saturated from the bottom up including his hair. Sometimes Floyd wondered if Riddle purposefully made himself so fun and easy to tease.

“Goldfish is looking like an axolotl..” He joked.

“What!?” Riddle angrily whipped his head to Floyd’s impertinent grin, hand still under the flamingo’s beak

“Don’t worry, you’ll still be Goldfish!” Floyd reassured him by giving him a pat on his head, one that he knew Riddle couldn’t fight against since the latter was busy feeding the flamingo. “Hehe Goldfish can’t run away from me right now, huh?”

“Stop referring to me by those childish names!” Riddle cursed, “I’d love to have some card soldiers chase you.”

“They would never keep me away from you!”

“What are you even doing here?” Riddle demanded, opening up the flamingo food to get some more. “Why must you put in so much effort to be such a nuisance?”

Floyd tilted his head, “Didn’t we talk about this? I'm courting you.”

“Wh– How exactly is this a part of the courting?” Riddle rebuked.

Floyd thought back to his romance movies, it just felt right to have decided on visiting Riddle, but he was personally unfamiliar with the practice. All he remembered from merfolk culture was gift-giving, and he wasn’t too sure if that translated as well into land-folk.

“Don’t you guys count hanging out together as something?”

Riddle paused in the middle of unlocking the container and turned away with a faint blush. “I suppose it is a factor in..dating..”

“Oh right! Dating!” Floyd beamed, “This is our date!”

Riddle scoffed, “A date? Here, and you didn’t even bother to tell me beforehand? How disorganized.”

“Goldfishie’s so pickyyy!”

Riddle huffed and ignored Floyd after that.

As always, the eel had none of it. “So what’s the difference between that and what I did?”

Riddle stayed silent for a while longer but grunted as he took off his right glove, hesitantly offering it to Floyd. 

“Flamingos can accidentally peck or scratch at you while eating,” Riddle explained. “Gloves are a safety protocol. Should you have to hand-feed one, you must wear gloves for safety measures. That's not a queen's rule, just common sense, I fear.”

“Aweee, so Goldfish was worried for me?” Floyd’s eyes glinted as he put on the glove and grabbed a handful of the food, which Riddle promptly lessened with his left hand.

Doing so, Riddle’s face flushed the slightest bit more, “Don’t flatter yourself. It’s the rules, your safety is simply… collateral damage.”

Floyd giggled happily and took a seat beside the flamingo to adjust his gloved hand’s distance to its beak, inviting it to take a bite with Riddle overseeing. As it did, Floyd looked at Riddle who was staring at him back with a soft smile. The redhead’s smile quickly hid and his attention shifted towards the flamingo as soon as they made eye contact. 

Floyd obviously noticed this, but decided to bask in the moment rather than tease the other, “So, how am I doing?”

“You aren’t messing up.” Riddle said. “I’d say you suffice.”

“These little guys are so cute!” Floyd hovered his free hand over its body. Petting it when Riddle showed no sign of disapproval. “Why do you get these little guys?”

The redhead bit a little of his inner-lip. “We use them for croquet.” 

“Huh?” Floyd stopped petting to raise his brows. “Do they..watch?”

“They’re the mallets.” Riddle elaborated, “And the hedgehogs are the balls.”

Riddle frowned at Floyd’s silent and still expression,

“They don’t get hurt!” He reassured, “It may be Heartslabyul tradition but to go so far to abuse? Well that’s simply immoral and rule breaking so of course, the Queen of hearts, she made sure that—”

He stopped his rambling when Floyd started shaking and covering his face.

“Floyd?”

Suddenly, the taller man burst into broken laughter, struggling to keep his posture, not even attempting to hide his loss of composure, and almost slamming his hand to the flamingo’s beak in the process, (that, Riddle scolded him for.)

“You. You rules schmules, goody-two shoes, law-ridden folks—” Floyd tried to catch his breath, “— Are the same ones usin’ animals as sport equipment?!”

It was at this point he went feral and Riddle was unsure how to defend himself. Honestly, even he couldn’t be ignorant to the slight nonsensicality of the tradition.

“It can’t be that funny.” Riddle muttered, now and again holding Floyd’s wrist to make sure the food doesn’t slam straight into the flamingo.

“Are you kidding bro? It is!” Floyd wiped his tears with his left hand and let his lungs rest from laughter. “Dis shi gold, huzz”

Riddle stared at him in disgust, “Did you just call me a slur?”

Floyd’s fit of laughter grew and his body gravitated to the ground, “Goldfishie! Ya kill me!”

“One day, hopefully.” Riddle rolled his eyes, but they couldn’t help but soften as he watched Floyd try to properly feed the flamingo while battling demons.

Riddle felt his stomach tingle. Something he hadn’t told the other was that the flamingo was his. His choice of flamingo for every game, but even so, without that information, like second nature, did Floyd seem to treat it with such care, contrasting his usual brash attitude. The entire view felt rather domestic and Riddle felt his face turn red. Which was weird, because Floyd was no longer annoying him.

Chapter Text

NEXT WEEK, TUESDAY - DAY OF PARTY

It had been 5 days since Floyd started his ‘courtship’ nonsense. In all honesty, Riddle thought it would end as fast and sudden as it began, but not only had he been getting more surprise visits from the eel, he’d been spammed non stop over the weekend. It gave him the idea that perhaps Floyd was serious about the ordeal. And though that should’ve been obvious from the start, Riddle came to learn that Floyd would never act in a way that’s expected. Riddle guessed that, in a sense, the principle also fit in the situation

It was lunch, but instead of eating, Riddle had taken the extra time to study plants in the botanical garden. Unfortunately, he found himself reflecting about a certain student while trying to study a teal-aquamarine rose hybrid. His thoughts circulated around his own feelings. While he was complimented and appreciated Floyd’s interest, he admits, he had his own personal baggage that he wasn’t sure was alright to bring or counted him ready to get into a relationship.

Then that gave him the thought, without the baggage, would he give Floyd the chance? He supposed he already did, giving him the opportunity of courtship and all. But that was more of an impulse that Riddle didn’t think through, given as far as he got.

He can’t deny, Floyd’s advances had moved him and even got him considering and questioning both his moral compass and sexuality. And one thing for sure, it gave him some inkling of inspiration to put half as much effort into self-improvement as Floyd puts into fitting Riddle into his schedule. It was flattering to think that Floyd found him that much worth it, and Riddle confesses he didn’t entirely hate it when Floyd would show up either.

As annoying as it was, it was nice to see a smile he enjoyed seeing every once in a while, especially with how a lot of the students still walk on eggshells around him.(Not that he can completely blame them, that's the worst part.) And as tiring as it was when Floyd instigated a chase almost every meet, Riddle always found himself relaxed and a little mentally lighter afterwards.

They were both busy men. With Riddle and his duties and extracurriculars, Floyd has his own club and job. Though it was that Floyd allowed himself more leeway in his routine. Something, since the start of the school year, Riddle could acknowledge he should allow himself of as well. 

Perhaps there was a hint of admiration, and Riddle would keep it a secret to say that Floyd deserved that admiration. While he was still in the clouds regarding the more romantic aspect of his relationships, he realized that maybe he wouldn’t hate going on another date or two with Floyd. 

From his trance, Riddle jolted at an abrupt entrance of the botanical garden doors, and as he slightly expected, Floyd Leech—

Woah, maybe not Floyd.

“Trey? What are you doing here?” 

“Oh? Riddle?” The third year brought his attention to the housewarden, “I’m here to pick up a plant I’d like to show someone. And you?”

“I was supposed to study but…” Riddle hesitated. He was a little flustered to open up about it, but he knew he could trust his friend. “Trey, how does one label their feelings?”

The question surprised Trey. He’d never imagined Riddle in that kind of scenario. In fact, now that he was, his mind ran through all possible realities. Broken hearts, various suitors. But who in the entire school could dumbfound Riddle that bad—

“Trey?” Riddle called out, clearly feeling a bit awkward about his question. “Nevermind. So what plants are those?”

Trey snapped back into reality, ‘ah, right’.

“These are Strongylodon macrobotrys.” He said, “They aren’t native to sage island, so they’re quite the special vine.”

He smiled softly at Riddle’s nods of fascination. Quiet, simple moments that brought him back to days before everything. 

“Riddle, I’m really glad you’re finally opening yourself to growing-up cliches.” Trey reminisced giving Riddle his first taste of sugar, his first game of soccer. “I don’t think you should overthink this whole feelings thing. Don’t try labeling yourself so soon, that’ll just give you something to expect. Live through it, and when the time comes, make the decision that's in tune with the present, current emotions. No pre-planning, no notes.”

Riddle frowned a bit, “Quite frankly, I’m a mess, Trey.”

Trey laughed at that, “That’s what love is. You can’t study it. You can’t expect your experience to go smoothly and you can’t expect your significant other to always do what you expect either.”

He carefully picked out a flower from the roses that Riddle had been inspecting moments before and handed it to the other.

“Whatever happens, navigate it with an open-mind. Whatever you’re feeling, don’t try rationalizing it right away. Love isn’t logical like that.” He concluded.

Riddle gently squeezed the rose, “Thank you, Trey. You always know what to say.”

“Just offering you my 50 cents.” Trey cleared his throat, “So.. who is this mystery guy?”

Riddle crossed his arms, “How are you so sure he’s a guy?”

Just then, he heard himself. Riddle blushed, “Ah. well. I suppose you know now.”

It’s not that he was embarrassed to be taking interest in Floyd, but verbalizing it felt awkward and unnatural. He’s heard that teenagers often talk about their crushes and things alike and he was flustered at even the image of the Heartslabyul Housewarden and Vice giggling and chatting about their boycrushes in a darkened room.

“It’s… Floyd.”

Trey did a double take and stared at him wide-eyed, “Floyd?! Floyd Leech?!”

“I don’t suppose there’s another Floyd in school, is there?”

The green haired mage set down his plant, he composed himself and pushed his glasses up.

Riddle felt doubt from the reaction. Did it being Floyd change everything? “Do you not think it’s worth pursuing anymore?”

Trey stammered, “Not at all! Floyd or not, I still definitely think you should welcome these kinds of experiences. It’s just.. Floyd?”

Riddle huffed, “What is that meant to mean?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t expect it. Plus, he kind of freaks me out.”

“He scares you? He’s a nuisance at most.” Riddle said, “The Leech to be afraid of is Jade. You just never know what he could be thinking.”

“Really?” Trey folded his arms, “Jade is nice company.”

Riddle looked him up and down, “Of course you would say that.”

“Now what is that supposed to mean?” Trey’s tone almost made Riddle chuckle.

“I just don’t think Floyd is anywhere near as terrifying as Jade.” He hummed, “Floyd can be surprisingly… tame and orderly.”

Trey immediately caught the glint in Riddle’s eyes, the almost unnoticeable red in his cheeks, and the small smile that formed. The entire package, Riddle’s face painted with pure affection as he held the teal rose. It was at the moment Trey had a silent reflection once more— this was no longer the child locked in his bedroom. Not the tyrant pinned to the rules nor the kid crying and clinging to his mother's dress. This was Riddle.

“Well, speaking of Jade,” Trey retrieves the plants he set down, “I was actually supposed to bring these vines to him."

Riddle raised his brow. "I see..."

"See you, Riddle. Don’t forget what I said!”

Riddle smiled and waved as his friend left the area.

Trey was right. Especially if the one courting him was such a mess, he couldn’t expect love to be any different. And he wasn’t counting on it. Love is an experience he was about to enter and he was willing to try to let go of some of his attachments to pre-set plans and rules in order to navigate it. Riddle couldn’t exactly place his finger on the details, but he knew who brought upon the willingness. Willingness that began branching out of circumstances of love, making its way to his own values and lifestyle. Maybe it was something about his personality, or about his lifestyle, or maybe it was something awakened in Riddle himself. 

The thoughts lingered in his mind as he carefully placed the teal rose his school bag. He allowed himself some small indulgence, imagining a scenario of another date with Floyd. Maybe he could plan it this time, rather than letting Floyd make the first move of not planning at all. The self-indulgent dreaming ended quick as clarity sank in— he was imagining a relationship that wasn't actually official yet. But perhaps not as far-fetched as he initially thought.

Think Speak of the devil, he doth appear—

Finally, in his silly manner, Floyd Leech appeared to skip over to Riddle, wasting no time to loom over him and question his activities. He barged in with an uneaten hamburger in a plastic bag and plopped it down next to the pot of roses on the table. 

Floyd leaned on the table, resting one hand on his hips. Smiling lazily as he stared down at Riddle who was sat. As they held eye contact, Riddle could feel the heat in his cheeks.

“Heeeeeyyyyy” (More Ys = More interest fr)

“Is this a sad attempt at seduction?” Riddle almost blushed at his own joke, but kept his composure to save face.

Floyd smiled, “Is it working?”

“Not at all.”

With that, Riddle looked back towards the table and scrunched his nose at the pitiful burger.

“Would you separate your food from the roses.”  Riddle demanded.

“It’s not my food,” Floyd corrected, pushing it closer to the redhead, “It’s yours.”

Riddle glared at him. “I’m studying, Floyd.”

“It’s literally lunch, dude. When Sea Turtle passed me by and told me you were doin’ all this instead of eating, I bought you the first thing I saw, yaknow!!”

“Sea Turtle? Trey huh..” Oh. Oh Riddle sees. That meddling childhood friend. “Either way, it is neither of your guys’ business as to what my diet is.”

Floyd grumbled, and Riddle assumed that was the end of it. However, Riddle had forgotten that Floyd hated doing what was usually expected. So instead of dropping it there, he grabbed the hamburger and wiggled it in front of Riddle’s face.

“Here comes the airfishies…wooaaoo”

What.

Riddle furrowed his brows and pushed Floyd’s hands away, “Do you take me for some child–? What in the world did you think that would get you, you..vexatious oaf?!”

“Vexshus what.” Floyd lowers the hamburger, “Whatever. Just eat it! One bite! C’mon, say ‘aaaahh’.”

“It’s the ru—”

Riddle cut himself off as a train of thought ran through his head. He had just been thinking about letting loose, being a little bit more lenient to both himself and the ones around him, for his mindset has been the thing building the barriers between everyone he knew. Most of all, he had just been day dreaming about a date with Floyd. He wanted to welcome Floyd more into his life. And though he wasn’t certain that getting fed by Floyd was the best way to begin this process, he didn’t want to keep pushing off self development. He thought back to what Trey had told him, instead of living so stiffly, he should practice an open mind. Alas, this could be an opportunity to exercise that change and maybe even an opportunity to bond closer with Floyd, but that last part is one Riddle will leave unsaid.

He truthfully couldn’t believe he was actually going to do what he did, and neither did Floyd. So when Riddle held his hand to stabilize the wiggling, Floyd tilted his head. And when Riddle, still holding Floyd’s hand that held the hamburger, bit into it, Floyd widened his eyes in surprise.

“Damn! That’s one hell of a bite too!” Floyd remarked.

Riddle blushed and held his hand over his mouth as he finished chewing and swallowing, “Apologies, I ate it straight out of your hand.”

“Huh?!” Floyd quickly pulled up a chair to sit beside Riddle, “I wanted you to do that, I didn’t think you would actually do it, though!”

“It tasted quite good.” Riddle observed, “Other than the steak, there was this other meat. I don’t think I’ve tasted it before.”

Floyd slightly pulled the buns apart to take a peak, “It’s sliced in a circle.. And it looks kinda thick. Must be some kinda sausage.”

He then moved it closer once more to Riddle, “Here ya go, take another bite.”

This time, Riddle ate from his own hands. "This really is delicious."

"I have awesome taste." Floyd casted a lazy smile. He looked at the roses on the table. "Wowza, so what's Goldfishie studying this time?"

"Nothing much," Riddle took a sip of water, "I just saw these roses and... well they looked beautiful, I decided to research about them a little."

"The land's lotsa fun." Floyd said, "There aren't plants like these down there. Even if there was, It'd probably blend right in."

"They don't exactly naturally grow here either, they're hybrid!" The redhead said as matter-of-factly. Floyd's mouth twitched as he witnessed the other's unfiltered joy of knowledge. "So somewhat artificial. I wrote it down just here—"

Floyd watched, smiling at the sight of Riddle eating food with his left hand and flipping through notes with his right. “Goldfishie’s always surprising me.”

His voice was low— Riddle didn’t hear it.

But Floyd, Floyd felt it. He heard what he said in his heart. Because it was true. Riddle had a knack for keeping Floyd interested, but not because he tried to, but because Floyd always conjured up any reason to justify being with him, thinking of him. After all, Riddle was right, he had no reason to interrupt his studying with a hamburger. But Floyd didn’t care that he had no reason, he actively made it his problem. It’d be fun, he reasoned to himself. But he ignores that had it been any other fish studying lame plants, he would’ve walked away. A small part of him recognized that it was because it was him. His Goldfish was worth the effort.

Jade and Azul always joked that Floyd would always get bored of his collection of people to mess with, and that may be right. Because as the days went by, his Goldfish felt less like a target.

Some days, Floyd would rather stop the whole chase to instead sit there with him in silence to admire, to braid his perfectly styled hair while the world felt stagnant. Some days, the obvious flush in Floyd’s cheeks felt on par with Riddle’s when they made eye contact— even if the majority of the time it was with grey eyes looking like they were about to cause up a storm. Some days, instead of taking his things, Floyd wanted to try gifting him silly things that reminded him of the other and see how his Goldfish would react. Some days, Floyd wanted to play with the other’s face and study all that expressed those reactions.

Because to him, being with Riddle was that fun. 

Chapter Text

TUESDAY, 4:00PM - 5 HOURS BEFORE THE PARTY

Ace slouched on the bench of the courtyard where he and the rest of the first years were hanging out.

“Man, this sucks.” He said, nudging Deuce who was playing card games.

“What did you expect? Wait— heh Go fish—” Deuce interrupted himself to curse Epel to a growing deck. “Riddle can’t have changed his mind so quickly.”

“Ughhh screw ya!” Epel angrily took a card from the pile and groaned, “‘Am glad that y’all ain’t coming to the party. I’d beat the sevens out of y’all durin’ musical chairs.”

“Epel, do you have a queen?” Jack smirked at Epel’s swearing as he surrendered his Queen of Hearts, “Hah. But honestly, Ace, Deuce, Riddle is a man of his principles, and given your guys’ track record, I don’t blame him for wanting to be cautious.”

“Dunno, man! You know, we tried to get someone to hopefully convince him, but he wasn’t even updating us, and I think all I’ve heard are complaints.” Ace sighed, “It’s like nothing happened.”

“No updates and all complaints?” Epel cringed, “Y’all suck, didja find this guy in the trash?”

“I’d wish I couldn’t go to the party!” Sebek yelled in his usual fashion, “But since Lilia-sama insisted… it must be a great opportunity to learn!”

“Yeah, I can’t believe you’re going and not me” 

Sebek then demanded a 2 from Epel, who gave it begrudgingly, and put the last pair of his cards on the ground with a smug winning smile. “Ha! You humans are inferior even at your own game!”

The pommette groaned, “Oh my god you’re literally so racist.”

“Epel, you kinda just suck at this game.” Ace said amidst Sebek’s stammering of defense, "Send pics at the party, guys! Deuce and I’ll be chillin’ at the dorms”

“You aren’t going?” 

Out of nowhere, the group collectively jumped and flinched and looked up to see Riddle holding what they could only assume were more errands from the headmage.

“I was under the assumption the both of you would be there,” Riddle said, “I had even asked Cater to watch you guys since he was going to make an appearance…”

Sirens rang in Ace’s head, “Wait, we can go?”

Riddle tilted his head, “What do you mean?”

“It’s just… it’s our flamingo duty week and like..” Deuce hesitated with his explanation.

“We didn’t think you’d let us.” Ace completed.

“What am I, your—” The housewarden frowned. He thought back to what Trey had told him prior— ‘Navigate it with an open mind.’

Riddle sighed, “I understand that I may have left that impression… but I assure you, I have been putting effort to change. Whether or not you would like to attend the party is not my jurisdiction. In fact, Ace, I didn’t take you for one to have cared about if I approved.”

Ace’s smile brightened, “That’s awesome! Thanks so much Riddle!”

Simultaneously, Deuce bowed his head, “Thank you so much, Housewarden!”

“Well, I’ll be on my way. Deuce, Ace, make sure to get back to the dorm soon.” Riddle excused himself and made his way to the hall of mirrors.

After he left earshot, the first years stared at each other.

“Did you guys seriously not even ask him?” Jack facepalmed in utter disappointment.

Deuce looked off into his side like he was guilty, “We really thought, okay!”

“Now that’s just embarrassing.” Sebek stated.

“Ha!” Epel exclaimed, “So I do get to beat y’all at musical chairs!”

—

5:00PM - 4 HOURS BEFORE THE PARTY

Riddle tidied up the last of the documents Crowley had tasked him with organizing. He had found a pamphlet about visiting the Queendom of Roses as a tourist inside, and while Riddle was sure that was not meant to be in the files, he annotated and gave his personal opinions about the tourist areas anyway.

Stretching in his chair, he opted to return the documents the next day. He changed into a comfortable white t-shirt and black sweatpants, folding up his uniform as he pondered what he could do next.

He took a bite out of the strawberry tarts (specially made by Trey!) on the side of his desk and decided he could spend the free time of the day studying and reviewing past discussions.

He walked to his bag, and just as he reached in for his textbook, his fingers brushed past petals of a flower he had carefully tucked away in there a few hours before.

His fingers floated from his textbook to the flower instead— The teal-aquamarine rose. Riddle had studied that they were a preserved flower and some were artificial and hybrid, but they were definitely beautiful all the same.

He walked back and set it on his table to grab a pencil holder, emptying it out and walking back and forth from his desk to his bathroom to clean and fill it with water. 

He had made sure the last bits of graphite were cleaned out before he put the flower inside the make-shift vase and moved it towards the space with the most light. Riddle picked up the pens from the then-pencil holder and relocated them to a nearby pencil case.

Riddle sat back down in front of his desk. He watched the rose bask in the light. If he tried hard enough, he could see how the rays perfectly outlined each petal.

“Ah.. right, I should get back to business.” He pursed his lips and sighed before carrying on to his prior assignment.

After retrieving his materials, he sat down and opened the first few pages. For a few minutes, his studying remained just as it always had until a sudden knock from his window jolted him surprised.

Appalled, Riddle instinctively reached for his magic pen and quickly stood to see what had made the noise of tapping on a 2nd floor window and if the disruption was meant for him, how did they manage to pinpoint his room?

When he peaked out his window, he found an unmistakable familiar teal-haired student shaking on his broom wearing cargo pants with a devastating rainbow gradient flannel atop a black shirt. It was quite the outfit choice.

Riddle sighed, for as of lately, it seemed that the universe would cut his studying short with the same tactic every time.

“Oh my sevens…” Riddle hurriedly opened the lock and swung the handle to let Floyd in.

He watched as Floyd shakily got onto his windowsill and tumbled into his room while holding on to his broom, “Heya Goldfishie!”

Riddle took another good look outside his window before shutting it. “What are you doing here? And what in the sevens made you think that would be a safe entryway!?”

“It looked fun.” Floyd said as he set his broom aside, “I’m bored, so I thought of Goldfishie.”

“How did you even find my room?” 

Floyd shrugged, “Trial and error. I’m pretty sure I knocked on Sea Bream’s and some other windows before yours.”

Riddle pinched the bridge of his nose, “You can’t just disrupt people like that, Floyd. It’s ill mannered, and you don’t need to be a Heartslabyul student to know that it’s a clear breach of privacy and the rules.”

“Past is past! I wanna have some fun!” The other simply waved him off and walked around in search of what to do in the room.

“I didn’t give you permission to just continue waltzing around—”

The rest of Riddle’s reprimands quieted down in Floyd’s head as the first thing he had noticed was the amount of books. Floyd spotted that a difference between his and Riddle’s room were the neatness levels, duh, but Riddle looked to have books everywhere. On his nightstand, on his desk, on literally every single shelf, and even at the foot of his bed.

“Have you finished reading all of these books?” Floyd asked. He examined the shelf below his desk, bottom from top.

Blah blah blah, Queen and Punishment, The Little Lion, Hades’ Inferno— tarts? As he gets to the top, he notices a plate of barely eaten tarts. They were filled with strawberries and Floyd noticed that they had a generous filling.

Curious, he took one already bitten and hummed at the saccharine taste. A bit too sweet for Floyd, but as a chef, he understood the appeal.

“What— Have you not been listening to me? Get—” Riddle gasped as he got a glimpse of Floyd’s hand, “YOU ABSENT MINDED KLEPTO.” 

Floyd dodged it as Riddle swung at him and yanked the tart out of his fingers. 

“These tarts are mine!” He shouted, “What right do you think you have to barge into my room and eat my tarts without my permission?”

“You’re bein’ stingy, Goldfish.” Floyd scowled back, “Mama never teach ya how to share?”

At the mention of his mother, Riddle’s face flared up even more. “What did you say?”

At the sound of Riddle’s hushed yet anger-ridden voice, Floyd entertained the idea that maybe he’d gone a little far. In the back of his mind, a voice reminded him that he was meant to be dating the guy, not making him mad. (Honestly, even without the whole deal, he actually kinda felt bad. But no one got time to think about the details.)

“Hey—”

“Get out.” Riddle demanded. Face red, voice stable yet almost as if on the verge of breaking.

Floyd walked closer, “Gold—”

Riddle charged at the eel and hit him square in the jaw.

“Damn!” Floyd held his face, “Didn’t know you had that in you!”

“This isn’t a joke, Floyd.” Riddle seethed, “Get out.”

Floyd immediately forgot about the pain in his jaw, his face shifting to a more serious light.

“No hey, I’m sorry, alright?” He said, “I didn’t mean to go all insensitive on you ‘n stuff.”

“I have no interest in forgiving you, Floyd.” Riddle made clear, “Especially with that lousy excuse for an apology? I’ve accepted all your rule breaking, all your.. overstepping, but you have gone out of line. I would’ve beheaded you by now if it weren—”

Floyd interrupts the guy with a sudden hug, burying him deep into his chest and brushing his hair.

“Hush hush.. It’s okay Goldfish.” He whispered, because at the moment, Floyd’s actions could make and break the entire situation. He hoped it eased some of the tension. Essentially, Floyd grabbed the other and prayed.

Riddle let out muffled yells and flailed around, pounding on Floyd’s back to free him. It hurt, but Floyd had no intention of letting Riddle go.

“Stop resisting!!! Just enjoy something you clearly need.” 

“OUPHWIFFYOR—”

“Bind the heart…shsuhushshhh. wait..neither of us even have our pens.”

More screams muffled out of Floyd’s clothes. He really was done for. But after a while, the thrashing stopped and Floyd looked down in concern, worried he might have just killed the housewarden.

When he saw Riddle, he was, thankfully, not dead, but he seemed to have accepted his position and lightly clung onto Floyd’s jacket.

“Goldfishie?” The eel backed away ever so slightly, “Ya alive?”

“I ought to kill you.” Riddle replied, his voice held no actual bite. It felt weirdly resigned. “But not today.”

“Nyahaha!” Floyd’s eyes sparkled at the reaction, “Good to know!”

“I’ve read some of my collection, but most of these are for studying material.” Riddle told him.

“What?”

“Your question. A while ago, about my books.” 

Ah. 

Riddle took the opportunity to push himself away from Floyd, and walk to his desk of work. Floyd noticed Riddle’s eyes. Once angry seemed to turn tired, a soft glisten that Floyd kept his silence about.

Instead, he thought about what had just happened. So 1) Floyd did that and didn’t get so much as a beheading, and 2) He’s still in Riddle’s room, the latter hadn’t yet kicked him out (successfully).

“Go sit on the couch. If you insist on staying uninvited, at least have the decency to not peck around all my belongings.”

Floyd jumped at the random order, when he looked at the source, it was as if Riddle hadn’t even been looking up. But his voice sounded almost defeated, like he wanted to maintain whatever image of strict and stern. Floyd knew he wasn’t in a position to argue.

After a good 5 minutes of silence, from the couch, Floyd asked, “Why are you letting me stay?”

“You can go if you want.” Riddle said, his eyes not leaving his paper.

“Meh..”

As he sat on the coach, his eyes wandered around— Riddle owned a grandfather clock that was located right beside his bed, an oddly shaped closet, and best of all, most of his room was red. Those were the type of things that weren't found so often under the sea, and coming up to land, he didn't see much of it either. Riddle had a bunch of unusual things that Floyd found awesome.

Though he’d say the most striking difference was that Riddle's bed was a lot bigger. 

Finally, Floyd got an idea as to how to have some fun. Sure Riddle was mad at him, but oh well, seize the day!

He got up from the couch and ran to plop himself on Riddle’s bed and rolled around despite the faint start of yelling that began in the background.

It was definitely softer than his own bed. He wondered if that was a housewarden thing because even Azul seemed to have a fancier looking style. The pillows were big too. There was one resting on the headboard and an entire hotdog pillow in front of it. He snuggled closer— it smelled like comfort, quite homey. It reminded him of Riddle.

To his surprise, Floyd felt himself get dragged out of the bed by his feet and onto the floor.

“Ouchh!”

“What part of ‘sit on the couch’ makes it so difficult for you to comprehend?!” Riddle marched over and started patting down the pillows, “It’s all messed up! You absolute behemoth. You truly have no class”

“You’re bed’s hella comfortable, Goldfishie.” Floyd said from the floor.

“I don't know why I haven’t kicked you out.” He watched as Riddle reorganized his bed. Methodically folding the blankets and trying to make sure the mattress shape wasn’t meddled with nor changed.

Exasperated, he sat down, grabbing his pillows and fluffing them up with an expression too serious for pillow fluffing, yet too ethereal for Floyd to rip his sight from. It didn’t help that his facial features shone against the light of the afternoon hue of an incoming sunset that dawned perfectly on stormy grey eyes focused on each curve and texture of a pillow. 

After he’d put the last of his pillows back to its proper spot, Riddle turned to see Floyd staring right back at him.

“Why are you staring at me?” He asked, agitated, but in the same light.

Blankly, Floyd replied, “You look pretty.”

Partially zoned out, Floyd had half the mind to smile, ready for an angry face to tease. But instead, his eyes widened at the sight of Riddle— his brows didn’t furrow. His face bloomed red, but with no sense of hostility. He saw how Riddle tried to hide half of his face with his hand and how he averted his gaze to anywhere but Floyd.

By impulse, Floyd crawled in closer to hold Riddle’s hand in his, lowering it from his face to reveal the blushing tightlipped mess. Floyd felt his jaw drop as he lowered his guard and relaxed onto the side of bed, captivated.

As they made eye contact, heterochromic staring at the soft grey, Floyd blushed equally as hard as the flustered Riddle. If there’s one thing he could say to encapsulate his emotions, it would be: “Holy sea witch, Goldfish’s so beautiful.”

Problem: He said that out loud.

As soon as the compliment slipped his lips, he felt himself get flung into the air and back onto the ground.

“I… I understand your courting business, Floyd. But to say things like that…” Riddle gripped the bedsheets.

Floyd didn’t know how to respond, even he was confused about what happened but he tried to shake it off and play the nonchalant act.

“Couldn’t help myself.” He said in his normal fashion, pretending like he knew what he was talking about, “It’s true.”

Chapter Text

TUESDAY, 6:00 - 3 HOURS BEFORE THE PARTY

The bluntness made Riddle look away. His eyes darted around the room and landed on the poor desk that held yet-to-be-used textbooks. 

Riddle approached the setup with a sigh, “You should go. I presume you're going to the party later?”

“Yep! This is my rad outfit.” Floyd got comfortable on the floor. “I just got some time to kill.”

“That…?” Riddle eyed the layers and choice of color scheme. He didn’t look bad, although Riddle would say that the outfit was very Floyd. Only he could make color vomit look the least bit charming.

“What are you gonna wear, Goldfish?” Floyd waddled closer to sit down on the floor beside Riddle’s chair. (For once, it was the eel looking up.)

“Me? I wasn’t really planning on attending.” Riddle looked down at his plain shirt. He didn't have much party clothes anyway.

“Heh. Yeah, I figured.” 

Riddle frowned, “Are you mocking me?”

“Nope!” Floyd leaned on Riddle's chair, “I just wanted to see if you were gonna go.”

“Who would want to see the Housewarden of Heartslabyul attend a weekday party?” Riddle mumbled.

If his image was strong enough to make the most of the troublemakers (Ace) think about not attending, he can’t imagine if word would spread that he was planning to attend. He could bet that most of the students would skip the party. He didn't want to do that to Kalim.

“I would!” Floyd swayed his head, “That would be fun.”

Riddle rolled his eyes as he picked up his pen, “You find everything fun, Floyd.”

“Yeah… but you know,” The eel spoke, “I think it’d also be fun to see you.”

Silence started filling the room which gave room for Floyd to speak up.

“Everyone knows Red Housewarden’s a goody two shoes who prob’ly got better stuff to do than that…” Floyd’s voice softened, “But I know Goldfishie’s as crazy as me.”

Riddle’s eyes glued to his textbook as he tried to decipher what Floyd meant. He remained still but his mind crazed and his thoughts circulated around countless concerns. The suggestion made no sense and lacked consideration. He stressed over what his schoolmates would think. He doubted that any of them expected him to go, even he felt like he would dampen the mood.

Sevens, he worried of what his mother would think. He would have no plan to tell her, but with one single magicam post that could reach her, telling her that her son had partied all night, he’d be done for.

Even as he grew older, he still felt the collar around his throat that wouldn’t let him breathe. A leash that held him back every time he pulled. So instead of letting the rope press against his skin, he’d learned to step back at every tug.

What’s worse is that he could feel the noose digging into his throat. 

And that settled it. 

Riddle finally let his eyes close. He felt a weight stemming from his heart that he could only determine came from disappointment in himself.

“I can’t.”

He heard Floyd’s unimpressed hum. But who would blame him? Riddle knows what he’s like. He is aware of situations where he’d be less favored to be in. For seven’s sake, he couldn’t even share a tart without flying off the handle. That’s just how he was.

“You can’t, or you’re scared to?” 

Floyd said the words softly, easily, and so targeted, yet almost like a genuine question. It didn’t offend Riddle, but it held him by the throat to think he was hiding behind himself so obviously, so pitifully, that Floyd of all people grew concerned.

“Ya know, if you wanna stop bein’ scared, you gotta work for it.” Riddle tensed as he gripped his desk, “But eh, it’s just a party.”

Just a party?

Yeah, a party that would deform the image that she he built. The reputation that he learned to hold onto as his identity.

A party that served as a testament to his inability to not seek validation in rules and situations where he can’t even be validated.

A party that lamented his utter helpless state in life.

As if he heard the self-loathing, Floyd had placed his head on Riddle's lap as he stared into grey eyes. He had done it so casually, and on the contrary, Riddle wanted to panic and push him off.

The soft gaze didn’t scream intimidation or patronization. His eyes brought comfort, telling him there’s more to his life than what he was built from, that it was okay, but he wasn’t gonna push. In actuality, it didn’t radiate pity, it was knowingness. It was genuine comfort.

Riddle wanted to forget, he wanted to untie the noose around his throat, but that wasn’t going to happen if he just walked off.

Now, it was as if Floyd held him by the nape and he was convinced— he was gonna push him off. But instead the feeling of suffocation dissipated as he allowed himself to get lost in Floyd’s eyes— losing himself in his features down to his teeth to his uneven and smudged eyeliner. His messiness reflected in his lazy grin and it reminded Riddle of his own personal journey.

His jumbled journey of change— where he thrashes against his shackles, a reminder that he is no longer constantly controlled and treated like a trophy or a dog to be shown off or yanked around.

Floyd’s eyes were kind, they were careful, but they sent him a message— She can’t get to you now.

He’d escaped his collar. The rope that held him snapped months ago. And now he was taking a crash course in living authentically as himself, not how he was made or taught to be.

“Would…” Riddle considered asking Floyd for help with his wardrobe but as he remembered what the other was wearing, he thought otherwise. “...Nevermind.”

Riddle didn’t understand what he himself was getting at, but beside the intimacy of the moment and the utter rush from the sudden flurry of emotions and awakening that made him feel like he was falling through several emotional changes, like he was going through years of development at a split second. Something in his mind yearned— he wanted Floyd.

So he cleared his throat and stood up to lead Floyd back outside of his window.

“Pick me up at 9.” Riddle said, handing him his broom. “Please, wear something else.”

Chapter Text

TUESDAY NIGHT, 9:00PM - PARTY !

Riddle scavenged his wardrobe for something fitting to wear.

He wanted something that suited the partying vibe, though he also wanted to seem casual enough to not stand out. He mulled over consulting Cater, though the ginger seemed like he was already having trouble with his own outfit. As much as he tried to stay neat, he found himself ending up on his bed with mountains of clothes on the floor and magicam reference photos open on his phone.

In the end, Riddle wound up wearing red jeans, a basic white shirt, and a black jacket.

The jeans could have used a bit more tailoring on the length and maybe he could have worn something other than a plain white tee, but he tried his best to work with closet and fashion sense. It wasn’t flashy but, sevens, was it different from anything Riddle would wear to a party. Usually, the parties he’d attend were sophisticated black-tie or frilly themed events. Come to think of it, this was probably his first party party.

When Riddle walked out of the dorm to meet Floyd, he was partially disappointed when he saw that the only thing Floyd had changed about his outfit were his shoes, going from black to white, but he didn’t really expect much to begin with.

As soon as Floyd laid his eyes on the other, his perky grin wavered and his eyes analyzed Riddle’s outfit.

“Are you wearing lipstick?”

Riddle flushed— He didn’t mean for it to be that obvious. 

“How did you know that?” He avoided the taller’s gaze as the anxious pit in his stomach grew. “Maybe I'd applied too much..”

“Nah nah! It’s pretty!” Floyd hurriedly blinked out his momentary shock to position himself right beside Riddle, slinging an arm around his shoulder. “I just noticed.”

The two began walking towards the Hall of Mirrors together. Thankfully, not many students were aware of him, but when his ears picked up the slight murmuring, Riddle had worriedly put his hood up in an attempt to avoid being noticed.

The night was far too dark to make out Riddle’s red hair, so what drew attention, rather, was the unmistakable silhouette of one of the Leech Twins exiting from the Heartslabyul dormitory. It didn’t help that Floyd clung so close to him, he felt himself sinking further into his hood.

As they walked closer to the portal of Scarabia, Floyd detached himself from the redhead and stumbled to stand in front and lead the way in. “Goldfishies first!”

Riddle almost laughed at the eel’s sloppy courtesy, matching with his usual lazy grin. He took the other’s hand and dragged him to walk through the portal together.

—

When they stepped foot onto Scarabia grounds, Floyd’s expression stayed the same. His sharp teeth glaring at the world as he readied to smile at whatever came his way. 

Riddle, on the other hand, felt everything slip away. His authority, his ideals, his notions, his courage— gone. He wasn’t Housewarden Riddle at that moment, he didn’t carry the image he created. He was Riddle Rosehearts, trying to figure out how to embrace what life has to offer.

“This’ll be loads of fun, mkay?” Apparently, his grip on Floyd tightened— he didn’t even realize he kept holding on— because he felt Floyd softly circle the back of his palm in reassurance.

Riddle knew Floyd was one to express his emotions in a rather extravagant manner, so his calm yet familiar demeanor contrasting Riddle’s own inner-panicked mess warmed his heart. Though it was still painfully there, Riddle ripped out the pile of second thoughts that crawled in his head.

“Fun.” Riddle repeated. The one concept that’s been so distorted in his life. “Let’s hurry before we end up being late.”

The dorm was lively. It always had been, but for the party, it was lively like Riddle’s never seen before. He stood appalled at the dancers bumping into the players and the drinkers tumbling on the ground and how people seemed to see it as normal. There were no designated areas, it was utter chaos. 

So much for outfits as well— Riddle had spent almost the rest of his afternoon contemplating an outfit, some students attended in their uniforms.

He thought Floyd’s outfit was questionable, he was positive he’d just witnessed one of his dorm mates on pool table shirtless.

The legal drinking age of the Queendom of Roses was around 16, but he wasn’t pretty sure that applied to Sage Island. In fact, he was sure he witnessed at least 80 violations of the Queen’s Rules, school regulations, and the Twisted Wonderland law.

Riddle let go of Floyd as he tried to remind himself that it didn’t matter. This was normal, it was hurting no one. He tried rationalizing the mayhem unfolding in front of his eyes.

Lesson 1: People liked the chaos?

“Hey, Goldfish, where do you wanna go first?”  Floyd nudged Riddle out of his daze, “We gotta get moving, we can’t stand by the doors the entire night.”

“Of course,” Riddle cleared his throat, “Perhaps we could start with… food?”

Now, the problem was where they would find the food station. Neither of them had visited Scarabia often enough to fully know their way through, and much like the other dorms, Scarabia was huge. They tried to stick close, but the deeper they got in, the more people there were.

Riddle slipped through the crowd as he blindly tried to navigate to the food station, “Maybe it’s this way?”

Okay maybe not, he thought, as he entered a more dimly lit atmosphere with music blasting all around. 

“W– Goldfish wai–”

Floyd’s voice progressively got quieter, unbeknownst to Riddle. As he tried to block off the heavily remixed pop songs, he started to lose sight of his surroundings.

“Floyd?” Riddle tried to turn back but was interrupted by the dancing of the other students, dances that pushed him around. And with the darkness of the room, he couldn’t exactly pinpoint where he ended up. Either way, he realized Floyd was no longer behind him.

“Oh sevens.” 

Riddle felt his entire body heat up. This was anarchy, this was disorder.

It frustrated him further that there were almost hundreds of faces, yet none of which could bring a sense of comfort to Riddle in his plight. He breathed deeply as he made peace with the fact he shouldn’t expect to be reunited with Floyd so soon. He began to walk around until he reached an area with more light. At least he could make out the faces better. Riddle went on his tippy toes in an attempt to find a familiar face in the crowd.

After a while, his eyes spotted Deuce beside a table, putting together some kind of meal on a paper plate.

“Deuce!” He called, the first year’s head perked up and he looked around.

Riddle realized that with the amount of people, most of them were towering over him, Deuce probably wouldn’t be able to see him. He sucked in a breath and tried his best to march forward to Deuce.

(Side note: Some of these students needed to start wearing deodorant.)

Finally, he popped out in front of Deuce, startling the other. “Deuce—”

“Housewarden?!” Deuce set down his plate, “I didn’t recognize you at first with your hood.”

“Oh yes, I forgot.” He lowered his hood to let his hair breath, “I’m glad, it seems you and Ace went through with attending.”

Deuce’s eyes shifted awkwardly, “Yes— um.. We’re having a blast!”

Tension filled the air and Riddle sighed, “I’m planning on telling anyone off, Deuce.”

Immediately, the latter widened his eyes and waved his hands as if to emphasize his surprise, “Oh no! No! I wasn't thinking of that! I just.. didn't expect to see you here either.”

“I didn't quite expect myself to be in this situation either.” Riddle agreed.

Deuce awkwardly picked up his plate, “So— what do you want? There's some food you could get here, but if you want some refreshers, it's over there on the far right.”

Riddle nodded, “Thank you, Deuce. Though I think I’ll see—”

Just then, a familiar ginger bursted between them in a rush, “Yo Juice, Cater's gonna chug—!”

He paused as he noticed the unmistakable striking red hair beneath him.

“Housewarden..!” He squeaked out.

“Hello, Ace.” Riddle replied. “What's Cater doing?”

“Oh. It's. Erm.”

At this point, Riddle began to get slightly annoyed at the doubt. Still, he remained patient, after all, he couldn't blame where it came from.

“I'm not here as a housewarden,” Riddle assured, “So please, both of you, refer to me as Riddle instead.”

Ace raised a brow, “And that means..?”

“He told me he wasn't gonna rat anyone out.” Deuce affirmed, “I think Hou— Riddle actually just wants to have a good time.”

The basketballer skeptically looked at the two. Riddle knew better, he could sense the gears slowly turning in the freshman’s head and he partly chalked it up to Ace probably being…buzzed. It’s not like he expected 0 alcoholic drinks, so when he came to the party, he wasn’t surprised when students, like Ace, had breaths that reeked.

“Alright..you know what? Sevens yeah.” Ace brought Deuce and Riddle closer, “Let's do this. This is awesome. Let's head to the drinks circle.”

“I was going to get some pudding..” Riddle huffed, “But I suppose I could start off with a drink as well.”

“C'mon, c'mon!”

Ace led the two to a long table littered with all sorts of drinks. From water to straight up vodka. 

“Cater’s out with Kalim to get a bottle.” Ace said, “Meanwhile, we can get a drink before the show!”

Their hands hovered over certain drinks, Riddle noticed.  “I’m not a fan of the idea that you guys drink. But… there’s not much I can do other than advise you against it.”

That didn’t seem to help their slight hesitance, so the red head sighed for what might have been the 810th time.

“You two are from the Queendom, no?” His freshmen looked at him confused, “That means you two are… technically…. Legal.”

“That means, in a sense, you can drink.” Riddle said blankly with an underlying tone of annoyance. “Legally. Don’t let myself stop you.”

“OOOHHH yeah!” Ace cheered, forgetting his prior hesitance. “Deuce! Go get us the smirnoff blend!” 

As Deuce followed the order, Riddle hummed, “You aren’t going?”

Ace sat on the table, “Nah. I’ll be honest…” He leaned closer to Riddle’s ear, “I’ve already had a couple… I needa sit down for a while.”

“You’re not really attempting to hide that.” Riddle pushed him away, “Get your repulsive breath away from my face!”

The ginger threw his head back in a hearty laugh, “Haha! It’s crazy that’s all you’re mad about!”

“It’s disgusting.” Riddle said vehemently, “It’s absurd I even decided to be here to witness this.”

“Ah..!” Ace swayed his feet, “What made you come in the first place, then?” 

“It—” Riddle paused.

Riddle wasn’t sure what possessed him to come. If it had actually just been an impulse decision, or a rush to begin a new chapter of his life. Maybe it was when Trey had told him to be more open minded. A feeling so persuasive, it compelled him to do things he’d look down upon. But the reasoning felt lacking. There was more.

To begin a new chapter of his life? Sure. But he could swear that it wasn’t a mere split decision. No, he can remember the feeling of going through a crisis for what felt like a week. He remembered the feeling of subtle build up and doubt until something came screaming at him, yanking him and shaking him.

Until something held him so close he cracked

…

Floyd?

For a moment, Ace’s eyes narrowed before quickly widening, someway like an epiphany. “What about him?”

Riddle blushed, stuck in his own head, he was stunned to realize he’d said his name out loud.

“That’s none of your concern.”

“Whaa!!” Ace whined, “What’s up with you and Floyd?”

Riddle snapped at him, “Do not push your luck, Trappola.” He warned,

“Maaan, you’re no fun!”

“I’ve got a bothersome freshman who reeks of a gallon of alcohol.” Riddle said, fanning the air, “I can’t imagine how anyone could find this enjoyable.”

“You know what, maybe you need a couple of drinks in you, Riddle.” Ace suggested.

The other looked at him, ridiculed. “You dare say such a thing, you must be drunk.”

“Yeah, and here comes Deuce with even more.” He said, pointing towards Deuce who was squeezing through the crowd with 2 cups.

“I’ve got smirnoff for you—” The blunette handed Ace a cup, “—And I got canned beer.”

Riddle tilted his head, “If it’s canned beer, why did you transfer it to a cup?”

Deuce shrugged, “It was in a pitcher labeled canned beer.”

“...How odd.”

“Oddeez nuts” Ace said, giggling into his cup.

“Deez..what..”

—

The uncomfortable jostling of too many drunk high school boys was pulling Floyd’s last straw.

Riddle had slipped away from his line of sight while looking for food. More so that the redhead wore a hoodie, it took away the clearest way to identify him in a crowd. It worsened Floyd’s case that most students were taller than Riddle, so he was constantly getting blocked by the view of a random guy’s scalp.

Soon, the two had become completely separated. He wasn’t sure they were even on the same side of the dorm anymore. The urge to squeeze every single person that hindered his path was strong.

Actually, why was he stopping himself?

The revelation made his search much easier. Threatening everyone who prevented him from moving forward was a fantastic system.

Along the way, from bright fluorescent bulbs, it transitioned to a more LED-type lighting with incredibly bass drop-heavy remixes.

Floyd groaned. His eyes couldn’t adjust as well to his surroundings. Screw these stupid human eyes. If he was in his merform, he’d be able to see properly, no problem.

Trying to get past the dancefloor, he bumped into someone and their plate, causing the food to fall down to ground.

Annoyed, Floyd loomed over the figure under him, “Get outta my way.”

The other was still wiping the stray crumbs of his shirt before looking up, “I wasn’t— Floyd?”

Floyd raised his brow. “Oh. Hey, Sea Snake.”

He started walking away to continue his journey to find Riddle.

Jamil quickly yanked him back, “Ughh what gives?”

“I heard people complaining about your threats, Floyd. Stop it.” Jamil took a sip of his cup, “What are you even so hung up on? I would’ve thought you’d be partying it out by now.”

“‘M lookin’ for Goldfish.” Floyd replied, “Ain’t that what you wanted? Your ‘idea’.”

He looked at Jamil’s cup, noticing that it was just water, “Eh? You ain’t drinking like the rest?”

Jamil nodded, “Coach made me captain, we have training tomorrow so I can’t show up hungover.”

Floyd remembered the group chat announcement their Coach made, “Oh yeah. Training.” That wasn’t gonna stop him from having his fun anyway.

“If you’re looking for Riddle, I saw him with Ace by the drinks. Just keep going forward, you’ll reach it.”

“Oh, thanks Sea Snake!” 

“Wait, Floyd.” 

Floyd grumbled, “What do you want?”

“You don’t have to do this whole dating thing anymore, so go crazy.” 

Floyd’s face went from irritated to confused, “Huh? Wasn’t this a long term thing?”

“No… well,” Jamil paused, piercing his words, “The real goal was to get Riddle to allow Ace and Deuce to the party.” 

“Huh?” Floyd scowled, “So you pretended that it was just for him? That’s kind of messed up.”

“We thought it’d be a good way to get him to loosen up.” Jamil crossed his arms, “The only reason you joined was because you thought it would be fun. Why, is it not just fun anymore?”

Floyd grew angrier yet conflicted, his reasoning faltered. “Of course messing with Goldfishie’s fun.”

“Right. So call it messed up, I say it’s even. Of course Riddle being happy is.. Let’s say a plus of him getting a little less uptight. All’s well ends well.”

“Just go have your fun, Floyd.” Jamil said, “And if that’s with Riddle, then do what you want. I agree that the methods were a bit shallow, but in the end, we both got what we signed up for.”

Floyd’s tongue got caught in his throat. He didn’t know what to say. All he knew is that he was upset. Sea Snake was just as conniving as Azul and he did not like it.

He left Jamil and walked away.

Honestly, he wasn’t even sure if he should see Riddle. Not because he didn’t want to, but because the conversation he and Jamil had made him mad. He was mad because he did say he did it all for fun, though more depth grew in the time he and Riddle had together and it just didn’t feel all true anymore. He felt offended for Riddle but also had a clawing feeling in his gut because when all is said and done, with how Floyd acted and what he’s been saying, there was no right for him to detest Jamil’s cause as much as he did.

Making his way to the drinks section, he was curious about the commotion happening in the center of a space. A crowd of people cheering and betting over what seemed to 2 kids duking it out, probably using drinks.

He was about to ignore it, but he caught a glimpse of the most distinct red hair with a familiar ginger right across it.

Floyd wasted no time in barging through the crowd.

—

As Ace laughed at Riddle, space started forming near the drinks and food table.

“It’s Cater!” Deuce pointed at the third year, walking up to the middle of the space.

“Let’s go closer!” Ace hopped off the table and dragged both Riddle and Deuce to the front.

When they positioned themselves, Riddle tried peaking through other people to see, unfortunately, his own body betrayed him.

As a last resort, Riddled slithered through the crowd to earn a spot closer to the front. There, he got a full view of Cater with a bottle of, what he assumed was, alcohol, ready to chug it down with a crowd cheering him on.

“Let’s go!!!” Cater hooted with the crowd, swinging in circles as he hyped himself up.

Riddle watched eagerly, excited to see the performance.

“Three! Two! O—” Just as Cater brought the bottle to his lips, he had caught Riddle’s gaze. As they locked eyes, Cater froze. “Riddle!?”

Suddenly, everything went silent.

Riddle gulped. People had started looking his way, terror painting their faces.

“Oh sevens— we’re cooked man, Housewarden Tyrant’s here.” He heard

“Agh! Do you think he saw me?!” Said another voice.

“Ruh roh, c’mon bro, we gotta bail.”

It was exactly what he'd feared for. Everyone started walking away and leaving. The party was done. The party was over the moment he had stepped foot into it. Now, people were trying to escape. Riddle’s first thought was to get angry. To behead them for assuming the worst out of him. But frankly, he was humiliated that at the mention of him, people already foresaw their demise.

They all expected him to play by the rules. That’s his reputation, so much to the point even his good friends can’t let loose around him. No one dared to. Except…

Riddle confidently marched towards Cater and swiped the bottle right out of his hands.

More worried whispers escaped from the people around him, even Cater began to back up in fear. But Riddle blocked them out, for the only thing in his mind was a rush of adrenaline and pride.

Screw expectations, he thought, to Tartarus with the rules. 

Without another word, Riddle swung the bottle to his mouth and chugged like his life depended on it, because in a way, it did. This was him proving to himself that he can be messy. He can be more than a rule-following tyrant. He didn’t think he’d last long, but when the alcohol fell on his tongue, his eyes widened— he’d always thought all alcohol was bitter but this particular one tasted sweet, almost like a juice. 

He continued to drink it all up until the last drop. When he’d successfully downed the entire bottle, with crazed eyes he slammed it on the table and shouted.

“CARPE DRINKEM!”

After a silence, Riddle winced at the outburst of invigorating yells of the crowd.

“Woah, Rids!” Cater exclaimed, “You went so hard! Color me shocked! #Unexpected”

“Cater!” Riddle turned to the third-year, expression much different than the weirdly wide-eyed determined one from drinking the bottle. "Apologies for snatching your bottle like that.”

Cater waved him off, “Not at all! That was so #iconic. Who woulda thought! The famous Housewarden of Heartslabyul taking such a bold move!”

Kalim came running from behind, “Riddle! That was sooo cool. I don't even remember inviting you.”

“You didn't.”

“Oh!”

Riddle let out a soft chuckle, “I suppose it is surprising. Though as of right now, think me not of the housewarden, I’m simply Riddle.”

Cater laughed, “Ooo! Rebranding, I getcha. Who got you  convinced to come out here anyway? Haha just kiddi—”

“I came with Floyd—”

“Floyd?!”

Simultaneously, Kalim cooed, “Aww!”

“—But we got separated early on. I met with Ace and Deuce, they brought me here.” Riddle looked behind him, “Ah, here they come now.”

“Riddle!” Ace screamed, “That was wicked!”

“Yeah!” Deuce agreed, he pumped his fists together, “That was totally tough!”

“Wait wait!” Cater tried getting Riddle’s attention back, “You and Floyd came here together?”

Riddle places his hands on his hips, “What about it?”

“Aren’t you guys always annoying each other?” 

“No, he annoys me.”

“So why would you come with him?” Deuce asked,

Riddle huffed, “Why must you people always question it when Floyd is brought up? He is infuriating, I know, but that’s my personal business.”

“I think you guys are quite cute together!” Kalim said.

Riddle became flustered, “What—”

"Right... you have been hanging out more with him, haven't you?"

Riddle was dumbfounded at Deuce's statement, "And just what are you insinuating?"

“Hey,” Ace popped into the conversation holding a stack of cups and a ping pong ball, “Riddle, got room for more drinks?”