Chapter Text
Envisage - contemplate or conceive of as a possibility or a desirable future event.
~~~
A small sigh escaped pale lips as a boy turned a book’s page, fiddling with the pen in his hand. With the other, he pushed back short red locks of hair before metal-grey eyes focused solely on the passage he was reading once more.
After a moment, his pen began gliding smoothly across the paper, quick but steady strokes in perfect, cursive writing. When the last word was written, he relaxed his shoulders in relief before clicking his pen, setting it down on the table. He rolled his shoulders in an attempt to loosen his muscles before sorting the papers in front of him, paragraphs of writing flashing before his eyes. When everything was in order, he straightened the sheets before stapling them together and placing them in a folder, slipping it inside his bag.
“That’s the last assignment done,” he muttered out, standing up from his desk. He winced when he felt a throb in his feet, still not fully used to walking in high heels. With another sigh, he shook it off and stood up straighter, willing himself to endure the pain for a little longer.
He glanced at the clock. It was late, terribly so. He was lucky that his position allowed him to stay up later than the dorm members, but if he didn’t get some sleep now, he might regret it in the morning.
Mama was always strict about his sleep schedule, after all.
No, don’t think about that.
He unbuttoned his card-white coat and shrugged it off before making his way over to his closet. He was just about to hang it up before his eyes caught sight of an envelope resting on his nightstand. Trey gave it to him just this morning, but he hadn’t had the time to read it with how busy his schedule was.
Curiously, he picked it up in gloved hands, moving to sit on his bed. He flipped it to see his name, Riddle Rosehearts, in not-so-perfect handwriting on the back. Being a perfectionist, the ginger could see the mistakes in the ink, but paid them no mind as he ripped it open, lifting the flap.
When he unfolded the paper inside, it read as such:
To Housewarden Rosehearts,
I hope this letter doesn’t interfere with your schedule, or worse, break one of the rules of Heartslabyul. If it does, then I sincerely apologize.
A smile tugged at the corners of Riddle’s mouth. Whoever this was, they were being awfully polite. By the slightly messy handwriting on the envelope, he had assumed it was one of the first years. More specifically, one that hadn’t quite adjusted to the standards of Night Raven College. But whoever they were, they were impressing Riddle so far. Hopefully they’d be able to keep it up.
I am contacting you by letter to inform you that my hometown, Harveston, is holding a party to celebrate my return home for winter break. If you don’t have any plans, then I would really appreciate it if you could come.
“Harveston?” Riddle repeated, raising an eyebrow. He knows of many countries and cities, but Harveston wasn’t one of them. Who did he know that hailed from Harveston?
I hope this can be a chance for you to relax and have some fun, but I completely understand if you’re not able to make it. I’m sure that you probably want to spend time with your family, too.
That last sentence stung, and Riddle’s mood immediately deflated. His father was off running some business in another country, so he didn’t see him much… and he did love his mother, but…
Riddle sighed and turned his focus back to the letter.
Please respond ASAP.
Your friend, Epel Felmier.
Epel, of course. Now it all made sense. Riddle recalled that time during Halloween week, when Epel offered for him to visit his hometown sometime. Now that he actually had the chance, would it be too much to accept?
He pursed his lips. He’d have to do a little research on Harveston and get to know its culture and standards. If he’s going to visit, then he doesn’t want to be misinformed, or worse, unknowingly rude to the people living there. If he accidentally offended Epel, that would be a huge detriment, on his part.
Then, of course, was the issue of his original plans over winter break. He doubted that his parents would be thrilled to hear of this news, especially with what happened a few months ago, and he’d also have to have a talk with his mother about…
Well, he can deal with that later.
He steadied himself, taking in deep breaths. Then, he glanced at the clock. It was too late to write a message back, and he still needed to sort out his plans for the break… exams were coming up too now, weren’t they?
Yet another headache to sort through.
Riddle folded up the letter and slipped it back in the envelope. If anyone could handle winter break plans, exams, and research at the same time, then it would be him.
“I guess it’s time to revise my schedule once more…”
~~~
A frail boy lay sprawled out on his bed, his pale skin shining in the morning light. With a face that could be compared to a sleeping beauty, he lightly stirred, beginning to wake up from his slumber. With a groan, his eyes fluttered open to reveal ocean-blue, but they immediately shut once more when brightness filled his vision, making him wince.
He turned himself over, grumbling. Did he forget to close the curtains last night? After a few more minutes of him being curled up on his bed, he found the energy to sit up, stretching his arms. Lavender hair, slightly tangled, fell onto his shoulders and accentuated his pretty face.
After a final reach, he got off his bed, small feet pressing into the soft rug below him. He looked down at it to see a familiar round, red shape. His lips curled up into a smile. An apple. A vague reminder of his hometown.
His mind drifted back to the letter he wrote a few days ago to Riddle. He wondered if the housewarden even remembered their conversation during Halloween week. Not only that, but Riddle also kept a fairly tight schedule, and he was certain that he had winter break plans.
But then again, whenever Riddle mentioned his home life, he didn’t look too happy about it.
He sighed and shook his head. It was unlikely that Riddle would accept, so he had to stop his wishful thinking. Perhaps he could ask some other first years, but he wasn’t as close with them as he was with Riddle. He wouldn’t dare invite any of his dorm members, either.
He guessed he’d have to go back to his hometown alone. Well, that was fine. He was used to it anyway.
He made his way over to the vanity that Vil, Pomefiore’s housewarden, had requested to be put in his room. Since the dorm had a shared bathroom, almost everyone in the morning would be going there for a quick morning shower, to start their morning skincare routine, or to even put on their makeup. It normally got crowded in there, so having his own vanity would make things easier. Not only that, but he remembered the words Vil had spoken to him about two months prior..
“Epel, if you do not follow your specialized skincare routine every morning, then I am afraid I will have to wake you up and do it myself. I might even help you do your makeup as a bonus.”
Epel shivered at the mere thought of it. He hated his skincare routine, and he hated Vil even more. But he knew that hate would get him nowhere. It was no use trying to defy the housewarden when he knew Vil was leaps and bounds ahead of him in terms of power, beauty, and many other things Epel would despise to recall.
With another sigh, he opened a drawer and took a hairbrush out, running it through his slightly tangled hair. As he was doing so, he peered at himself in the mirror, checking to see if anything had changed from last night. He pressed a hand to his cheek. The skin was still soft with no bumps to be noted of, his eyes held no eyebags underneath them, and…
He forced the cutest smile he could manage, one that reached his eyes and every part of his face. Perfect. Just how Vil wants it to be.
Then, a knock sounded out from the door.
“Monsieur Pommette~! I have a letter addressed to you, from none other than the Roi du Roses himself!” A lilted voice called out.
Epel slumped. He knew exactly who that was. But even so, he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of hope at the fact that Riddle actually replied.
He set the hairbrush down and went over to the door, taking in a deep breath to prepare himself for the inevitable conversation that would follow. After a moment, he pushed it open to reveal a tall man, clad in the purple and black colors of the Pomefiore dorm uniform, along with a large hat atop his head. Rook Hunt, the vice-housewarden. Just who he wanted to see first thing in the morning.
Even though the mere sight of the guy dampened his mood, Epel forced himself to not let it show on his face. “Hello, Rook. Why’dya- uh, why are you delivering this letter to me so early in the morning?” Epel was lucky that Vil wasn’t around. If he had heard that little slip, he wouldn’t let him hear the end of it.
Rook chuckled, making the hairs on Epel’s neck stand on end. “Well… One, the beautiful Roi du Poison himself asked me to, and two, I had the chance of seeing your adorable face right after you woke up. But isn’t that second one reason enough to give you a visit?”
Epel had to bite back a scowl. Rook was definitely second on his “most annoying people I’ve ever met” list, right after Vil. He wasn’t a bad person, but sometimes he acted straight-up weird. And that’s not including his obsession over Vil, the so-called “Roi du Poison”. This guy definitely had some ulterior motive. Or, that was what he assumed. Why was his dorm full of lunatics?
Epel waved the thought off before he took the letter, flashing a small smile at Rook and muttering a “thanks” before closing the door on him, not wanting to incite further conversation. Without hesitation, he ripped open the letter, not bothering to check the outside. When he unfolded the paper, it read:
Epel Felmier,
Thank you for inviting me to your hometown over the winter break, and I appreciate the time and effort you put into writing a letter to me. I have decided to accept, for the time being. As you know, I am unfortunately very busy, and most of my time will be dedicated to helping myself and other dorm members prepare for exams. If there are any complications, then I will let you know immediately, but just know that I am looking forward to spending time with you soon.
Your friend, Riddle Rosehearts.
Epel’s face broke out into a smile, a real one this time. Despite the uncertainty of Riddle’s reply, he was still glad that the housewarden would be joining him. For once, he’d have someone his age that he could hang out with outside of school!
But then, he suddenly thought about Vil’s standards.
As a housewarden, Vil made sure that everyone in the dorm was taking care of themselves and their beauty in order to create the best appearance they could manage, both from the inside, and out. But unfortunately, that meant having little leeway in how someone wanted to express themself. What if Riddle had that same expectation, or even a little of the standard that Vil wanted to see? Surely he’d be understanding of Epel’s culture and way of life, right?
Well, if he didn’t, then that was his problem. Screw people in power and their stupid, petty, biases.
Epel sighed, placing the letter on his nightstand. He should stop assuming things and actually get moving. Vil would kill him if he didn’t.
He went over to his vanity again to check himself in the mirror. Round, ocean-blue eyes greeted him, along with a light complexion, symmetrical face, and beautiful, wavy, lavender hair. All things that Vil had described about him during one of their first makeup sessions together.
Epel frowned. Why did he have to be born this way? He looked so girly and cute. What happened to the tough and manly person he longed to be? Vil’s “guidance” was just making him run in the complete opposite direction of the ideal image he wanted for himself. He really wished that he could bulk up, at least a little. Or to make people cower just from his presence alone.
Just like Riddle could.
Epel stopped his train of thought, eyes widening. Wait, this was new. He’d never really looked up to Riddle before. Well… now that Epel thought about it, they were much more similar than he first assumed. They were both short and small, but definitely forces to be reckoned with once someone got on their nerves. Their backgrounds seemed to be the only difference between them.
Wait, scratch that. Riddle is a housewarden, there’s no way Epel would be able to get up to that level.
Another knock sounded out from the door.
“Epel?” A deep voice called out, making the boy jump. Vil. Oh, how he hated him. “Don’t tell me you’re sleeping in or skipping breakfast. I gave you a personalized meal plan for this week and I asked you to follow it down to the letter. You better be out of your room in five minutes.”
“Y-yes, housewarden!” Epel replied sweetly, adding a little vice to his tone. As the sound of footsteps grew quiet, he opened the drawers of his vanity and pulled out various lotions and creams.
He could sort out his thoughts later. Right now, it was just another day of surviving Pomefiore and Vil’s hellish reign.