Archive of Our Own

“Ne, Goldfish, do you know what day it is today?” 

It was the tenth time Floyd had asked the question, his wide eyes and sharp teeth getting all up in Riddle’s face each time he repeated it, the glistening triangles staring Riddle down. 

Riddle’s gray eyes flickered over him. The previous times Floyd had asked, Riddle hadn’t bothered to dignify him with an answer—there was still work to do, after all, and Riddle couldn’t afford to rest for even a second. This time, however, as Floyd stared at him, not bothering to hide the obvious excitement in his smile, Riddle couldn’t help but crack, averting his eyes from the mer with a light pink tinge to his cheeks, tucking a strand of red hair behind his ear.

“November 5th,” Riddle answered with a sigh, putting a gloved hand on Floyd’s face and shoving him away, trying to concentrate on his work. “It’s November 5th, Floyd.”

Floyd laughed loudly, pulling Riddle’s hand off him, grabbing it in his own larger one. “Yup~! It’s my birthday~”

A soft smile formed on Riddle’s face before dying down in less than a second. He still had to study for his test. He still had to do his work. So he looked away from Floyd, trying again to concentrate once more on the book in front of him. “I know. Now let me focus. I have a test to get ready for tomorrow.”

“Ehhh? But isn’t it a Sunday?”

“We still have class tomorrow.”

Floyd scowled. “Tomorrow ain’t my birthday, though. We don’t have classes today, so why are you still stuck on all that boring junk like tests and homework?”

“Because I have to be stuck on them.” Riddle dug his pen deeper into the parchment he was writing on, trying to avoid showing his gritted teeth, the way his grip tightened around his pen. “Otherwise, I’ll lose a point and fail the class. Mother won’t be pleased if I get even a grade less than perfect.”

“Well, your mom’s a bitch anyway, so it ain’t gonna matter—”

“Don’t speak of my mother that way.” The phrase was on instinct, a sentence he’d built up over time, an automatic reply to the mentioning of his mother. But Riddle didn’t bother to take back his words, however, continuing to inscribe his notes onto the parchment, trying to concentrate again for the third time.

Floyd pouted, leaning further into the table. “I thought you said you’d celebrate it with me?”

“You can celebrate with Jade.”

“But Jade’s with Sea Turtle!”

“Then go read a book.”

“Booooring.”

“Then go do your homework.”

Floyd crinkled his nose. “On my birthday? No way. C’mon, can’t you just, I dunno, throw your books away for one day?”

“I am NOT throwing my books away.”

“But you promised! You promised you’d spend the day with me.”

“That was before I learned of the test on Monday.” Riddle flipped a page in his book. “Now please, leave me be.”

“But Goldfish…” Floyd went quiet, his voice trailing off with a slightly bitter edge to his words. He didn’t move a single inch from his spot across the table, not even making a sound of protest or attempting to shuffle around like he usually did. 

Riddle furrowed his brows, again trying to concentrate, a bead of sweat slipping past his forehead. He dared not look over at Floyd or see the kind of expression he was making. He dared not take his eyes off of his book for even a single second, especially not if it meant seeing Floyd’s devastated frown in doing so. But as guilt began crawling up his throat, a thorn in his mouth that he couldn’t quite remove, he pursed his lips, biting down and taking a glance at the mer before him.

It was a mistake.

Sitting across the table as he always was, Floyd was staring at Riddle, his lips pressed firm in a sharp downward curve, his brows tense with irritation, and his eyes narrowed, lined with an expression of hurt, an emotion Floyd rarely ever showed, not to anyone, and not even to Riddle. But he was showing it now, silent as a moray—a moray that wasn’t the loud, brash moray that Floyd was—stewing in his sadness, his mood plummetting quickly in an instant.

It was only for a single second—no, less than a second—that Riddle had glanced at Floyd, but it was enough, more than enough, to get Riddle to stop and pause his work. He eyed Floyd earnestly, concerned despite the neutral expression that remained on his face.

“…What seems to be the issue?”

Floyd didn’t answer, merely picking up one of Riddle’s erasers and standing it up, watching it fall flat with a dazed stare. He repeated the action, ignoring Riddle’s question, much to the redhead’s irritation.

“Floyd, answer me. What’s wrong?”

“Go away.”

“Excuse me?” Riddle arched an eyebrow. “Why should I?”

“You’re bothering me.”

Riddle scoffed. “ You were the one bothering me in the first place. And I was the one that came here first. If anything, you should be the one to leave.”

Floyd glared at him, his eyes going wide, menacing for just a second as he bared his teeth, not smiling this time, not pleasant. “So? It’s my birthday. I can do whatever the fuck I want.”

“No, you can’t.”

“Yes, I can.”

“If you think you can get away with anything on your birthday, you’re a fool. Manslaughter, stealing, eating Hamburg steak on a Tuesday—those are crimes worth punishing, even on your birthday.”

“At least I didn’t break a promise,” Floyd said, looking away with a scowl.

“Are you insinuating I broke a promise?”

“I didn’t say nothin’. All I’m saying is that chumps who deny their promises are the worst kind of garbage. And chumps who break their promises… they’re even worse.” At the last part, Floyd glanced right back up at Riddle, his golden eye gleaming, accusatory, as he stared right into Riddle’s gray eyes. 

Riddle couldn’t understand it. What was Floyd trying to say? He didn’t mean to say that Riddle was one of those people who broke their promises, did he? Absurd! Riddle would never! Not according to the laws of the Queen of Hearts that detailed the importance of always keeping one’s promises.

“But you promised you’d spend the day with me.”

Riddle froze.

“I thought you said you’d celebrate it with me?”

“C’mon, can’t you just, I dunno, throw your books away for one day?”

“But Goldfish…”

Riddle dropped his pen. He glanced over at Floyd in a daze, realization crashing down on him, the same waves of realization that he’d faced after his overblot. Riddle had hurt Floyd. He’d hurt Floyd, ignored Floyd, and broken his promise to Floyd on a day that was supposed to be Floyd’s birthday, Floyd’s special day, a day for Floyd. He’d done all of that without a single sliver of awareness, continuing with his work as if it were any other day. All because that was normal, normal for him, normal for the place Riddle grew up in.

To Riddle, everything was normal. But to Floyd…

Everything was NOT normal.

For the first time that day, Riddle looked up at his boyfriend, the mismatched eyes on Floyd’s face following his actions. He opened his mouth, a rawness in his throat.

“I’m…”

Floyd raised an eyebrow. “You’re…?”

Sorry. Riddle wanted to say the word, desperately so. But he couldn’t, his throat closing up the second before he could get it out. As if a million thorned vines were clawing at him, Riddle went silent, his words cut off, unfinished, dead on his tongue.

Why couldn’t he say it? Why couldn’t he say those words? He didn’t know, and he didn’t have the time to figure it out, not with Floyd eyeing him like that, waiting for him to finish. So instead, he cleared his throat. Closing his book and putting away his materials, Riddle stood up, reaching a hand out to Floyd.

“I’m… done with my work. Would you still like to spend your birthday together?”

Floyd stirred, his eyes following Riddle’s every movement, the frown still spread across his face and his eyes still disappointed, dazed. But he got to his feet as well, shoving his hands in his pockets and kicking his chair aside.

“Fine, whatever.”

Riddle smiled, looking away. That chance was all he needed. He would do the rest himself.

He would cheer Floyd up no matter what.

🐟 🐟 🐟

Cheering Floyd up proved harder than Riddle thought it’d be. 

…Not really. Floyd was an especially moody person, Riddle himself knew better than anyone that the mer’s moods weren’t anything to be controlled by one person. All Riddle could do was hope for the best and right his wrongs. All Riddle could do was spend as much time as he could with Floyd, to make up for such a terrible birthday morning. So he started simple, asking Floyd what he wanted to do.

“Don’t know, don’t care,” was the only response Riddle received.

“Surely there must be someplace you want to go…” Riddle glanced up at the mer, but to no avail, as Floyd just shrugged, still bored out of his mind and not in any mood to entertain Riddle’s questions.

Riddle sighed. “Fine then, let’s go to the equestrian club.”

“Eh? The equestrian club…?”

“I still have to take care of Vorpal; it’s better to do it now when you don’t have a preference.”

Floyd grunted, but made no additional comment, following Riddle to the stables and watching the housewarden work. It was silent, minus the sounds of Riddle’s motions, the small whispers Riddle gave to Vorpal, reassuring the horse. Riddle could almost forget Floyd’s presence, had it not been for his pressing guilt, the feelings that constantly ate at him, the thoughts and regrets that formed in his mind. It was only when Vorpal suddenly jolted, moving away from Riddle with a harsh neigh, that Riddle stopped, confused.

“Vorpal? What are you…?” Riddle trailed off, his eyes widening as he turned around, realizing what was going on.

Standing right behind him was Floyd, the nearly two-meter-tall mer rubbing his neck in annoyance, glaring at the horse as if he were in a silent stare-down. Vorpal stared back, confused at first, but then irritated, unrelenting as the two remained fixed in their glaring contest. It was only until Riddle rolled his eyes, pulling Floyd out of the stables quickly, that the contest ended, with Riddle pushing Floyd against the outside of the stables, questioning.

“Floyd, what are you trying to—”

“Why can’t you pay attention to me like that?”

“…Huh?”

“The horse,” Floyd said with a scowl. “Vorpal. Why can’t you give me that kind of attention?”

Riddle blinked. Floyd wanted… attention? Like the attention Riddle gave Vorpal? Floyd wanted that? That was…

“Pfft.”

…hilarious.

“Hah?” Floyd glared at Riddle. “You think it’s funny?”

Riddle stifled a laugh. “N-no—I mean, yes, but… you’re not a horse, Floyd.”

“Like that’s supposed to matter? What if I was a horse? What if I was your horse? Would you treat me like that, huh?”

At that point, Riddle couldn’t hold back any longer, letting out a long, loud laugh, closing his eyes, and putting his fist to his mouth to cover for himself. “S-stop, Floyd, I can’t—”

“You can’t what?” Floyd’s scowl turned more into a pout as he heard Riddle’s laugh.

“I’m not going to treat you how I treat a horse!”

Floyd whined. “That’s not what I’m tryin’ to say! Ugh, Goldfishie’s so mean, paying attention to a horse like that and then saying he can’t pay attention to me…”

“That’s not true!” Riddle’s laughs died down, a smile remaining in place of them. “That’s not true, Floyd.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Is not. I can pay attention to you too, you know. You need only ask.”

“But I have been asking you. I’ve been asking all day and you’re too busy…”

Guilt once again stabbed at Riddle’s chest, and his smile faded, shifting into a small frown. The thoughts returned, and Riddle cleared his throat, resuming his serious expression, turning away from the mer.

He still couldn’t understand it. He couldn’t understand why he’d been so ignorant, so oblivious to the harm he was causing.

He really had been a terrible boyfriend, hadn’t he?

Sorry. I’m sorry, Floyd. The words remained buried in the bottom of his heart, unable to be uttered, unable to be released. Riddle could only purse his lips, trying his best to push everything away, to move on.

“Well…” Riddle started, hesitant. “You have my attention now, do you not?”

Floyd looked up at him. “I do?”

“You do.” Riddle firmed his resolve, his gray eyes never fluctuating as he pulled Floyd by the tie down to his level, the two of them meeting eyes, their faces just inches from each other. “You do have my attention, Floyd.”

They stayed there for a moment, breathing softly, the sounds of the stables, of Vorpal and the other horses invisible in their worlds for just a few seconds. Floyd’s golden iris shone brighter the longer they stood there, got deeper but lighter the closer they got. 

And then Riddle kissed him, on some urge he hadn’t sensed until now, a kiss that was short and sweet, simple and perfect, done in an instant but still present in their mouths, the taste of Floyd’s lips still heavy in Riddle’s senses.

Riddle hadn’t meant to do that. He hadn’t meant to kiss Floyd, not when Floyd wasn’t nearly in a good enough mood to entertain any of his wishes. But he’d done so anyway, pulling the mer into a gentle, loving gesture, as if trying his best to explain his apologies in the form of an action. He wondered if it worked, wondered if the mer understood what he wished to express. His answer came soon enough.

Floyd pulled away. A small grin was present on his face, much to Riddle’s surprise, and he laughed, a flicker of hope rising in Riddle’s heart. Was Floyd happy now? Was Floyd alright again? Was Floyd…?

No. Floyd’s voice was low and gravelly, different from his shrill wheezes, different from when he was in a good mood.

Floyd still wasn’t alright. But…

“So I finally got Goldfish’s attention…” Floyd glanced at Riddle, the corner of his lips turning upward. “Does that mean I can do whatever I want today?”

Riddle’s chest warmed. Floyd was talking to him, teasing him again. But then Riddle scoffed. “What? How did any of what I said lead to that—”

“You asked what I wanted to do before going here~” Floyd grabbed Riddle by the hand. “Well, I finally decided. Let’s go see my club now.”

“Hold on, what about Vorpal!?”

“The horse can wait for later~”

“FLOYD—”

Riddle didn’t have the chance to finish, as Floyd dragged him away, racing off to the gym and ignoring Riddle’s protests. The warm grip on Riddle’s hand was as tight as it was comfortable, just the motion enough to brighten Riddle’s eyes just a bit. The housewarden sighed.

At least Floyd was feeling a little better.

🐟 🐟 🐟

“You really had to go back to check on the horse…”

Riddle huffed, sitting on the edge of the bleachers, watching as Floyd mindlessly dribbled a ball in place, the lone player in the center of the basketball court. “I am NOT going to be neglecting Vorpal. Besides, we got here eventually, didn’t we?”

Floyd didn’t answer, instead dribbling a basketball up the court, shooting it, and cursing when it bounced off the rim, walking slowly to retrieve it.

Riddle reveled in the moment, a smug look on his face. “See, you can’t even make the basket. Even if we got here earlier, that doesn’t mean we would be doing anything better.”

“Shut up.” Floyd tossed another ball, not even getting it remotely near the hoop this time. “You probably can’t even play well.”

“You’ve never seen me try.”

“I don’t need to see you to know you’ll be bad at it.”

“Floyd! Take that back.”

“Nah~ I’ll only take it back when I see you in action~”

“Isn’t that what I was saying before…!? Well… never mind then.” Riddle sighed, springing up from his spot on the bleachers. He walked down the steps to the court, taking his staff and muttering out a spell, a wave of red light leaving him in his P.E. clothes instead of his dorm uniform. He dismissed his staff. “Fine. Let us settle this with a match.”

“Ahaha~ Goldfishie’s getting all heated up now,” Floyd said with a smirk. “A 1v1 with an amateur? No way I’m gonna lose~”

“I’m not going to lose either,” Riddle declared, walking up to the center of the gym, facing Floyd. “Now give me your best or I’ll crush you in defeat.”

“I will~ Give it your best shot, Goldfish. I’ll even let you have a freebie at the start~” 

Floyd threw the basketball at Riddle’s chest, the housewarden just barely catching it, a gasp escaping the housewarden at the action before turning into a frustrated growl. Floyd laughed, moving off toward the side of the court, steering clear of the hoop.

Riddle furrowed his brows. “Are you really so cocky as to give me a head start?”

“I am, Goldfish~ I am~”

“Then you better be prepared to be utterly humiliated.” And with that, Riddle bounced the ball once, catching it in his arms and taking a breath before shooting it upward, throwing the ball in a perfect arc, up, up, and away…

…and crashing onto the rim, the ball bouncing loudly off the orange ring, flying in another direction, hitting Floyd right in the face.

Riddle froze, unable to breathe for a good few seconds as he heard the crack of cartilage, and maybe bone. The other sound he heard was Floyd’s stunned voice, a grunt escaping the mer as he staggered backward, toppling onto the ground, the basketball falling loudly to the ground.

“FLOYD!” Riddle ran over to the mer.

The ball rolled away to the other side of the gym, leaving Floyd to sit there in silence, clutching his bleeding nose with his hands, eyes blown wide in shock as he felt the blood drip from his nose, momentarily stunned. His mismatched eyes found their way to Riddle’s face and Riddle stopped, slowing down to meet Floyd’s gaze.

“Goldfish…”

Riddle swallowed audibly, reaching out to the mer. “Floyd, I—”

“Ahahaha, Goldfish, you pack a big punch for such a tiny guy~!”

“…What?”

Floyd’s eyes shone bright with excitement, a stark difference from his earlier brooding, his lips stretched in a wide grin as he looked at Riddle, the liveliness in his gaze now back and much more prominent than before.

Riddle gaped. He couldn’t believe it. Floyd had been hit with a basketball, causing his nose to bleed, and yet he was smiling, actually happy rather than upset. The redhead let his outstretched arm fall to his side, and it was his turn to be stunned, watching as Floyd laughed, his voice raspy and amused, the mer standing up slowly, shakily.

“Little Goldfish seems to be filled with surprises.” Floyd took a step, walking over to Riddle, still grinning. “Want me to teach you how to shoot?”

“You’re not… mad?”

“Mad?” Floyd cocked an eyebrow. “Why would I be mad?”

You were upset before. “I thought that it would be painful, getting hit in the face with a basketball.”

“It is painful, though?”

“H-huh?” Riddle was taken aback at the statement. “But wait, aren’t you…? Why are you…? How are you not irritated if it hurts? And why are you laughing!?”

“Cuz you’re finally paying attention to me~” Floyd let his hand fall, his bloody nose now on display as he continued to smile, ignoring the bleeding. “Cuz Goldfish shocked me so good, shocked himself so good, that he’s worried for me~!”

Riddle couldn’t help but feel flabbergasted. Who in their right mind would ever feel happier after getting hurt? Nobody but Floyd, that was for sure. But still, what even…? 

Disregarding the dark blush that formed on his cheeks, Riddle clicked his tongue, trying to ignore whatever it was that was welling up in his chest as he pulled out his magical staff again, trying to perform a healing spell to stop Floyd’s bleeding. A flash of crimson light overtook Floyd’s face before fading into a dull red glow, sparkles still following Floyd’s injury, the evidence of Riddle’s magic.

Floyd’s eyes followed the glow before he laughed, his lopsided grin shining brighter than even Riddle’s magic as he removed his hand from his nose, which was no longer bleeding. “Aw, Goldfishie’s so nice, taking care of me like this~”

Riddle blushed. “B-be quiet, Floyd. I’m only taking care of what I caused.”

“Mhm, sure~”

“At least make an attempt to believe me!”

“Nah~ I ain’t feeling it,” Floyd said, flopping onto Riddle and tackling to the ground in a sweaty hug, turquoise hair resting on Riddle’s shoulder as he smirked into Riddle’s chest. “Time for a rest, Goldfish~!”

Riddle could only sigh, allowing himself to be held, closing his eyes to the sound of Floyd’s soft breath.

🐟 🐟 🐟

They spent the rest of the day at their leisure, doing whatever came to mind at whatever point in time, with Floyd coaxing Riddle into as many things as he could, and Riddle doing his best to keep up, following Floyd’s whims. Whether it was dancing, swimming, or playing a game of tag all over campus, Floyd never stopped moving, never stopped enjoying himself, and partying until the day was done.

Walking back to the dorm with Floyd at the end of it all, Riddle felt the sun set over his shoulder, sighing deeply. He was exhausted. Never in his life had he spent his day so unplanned, so loose. He’d never choose to, not on his own. But if it was Floyd who was at the center of it…

A small smile rose on his face for just a second. As long as Floyd was having fun, Riddle didn’t care. He had, after all, been the one to promise this. And he had, after all, been the one to almost break that promise. 

It was all… fine, right? He’d done his duties and made up for it. He’d ensured Floyd had a good time, right?

But then why did he still feel so…?

“Goldfish.” Floyd’s voice interrupted Riddle’s thoughts, the mer appearing behind him, resting an arm around his shoulder and peering down on him. “Heya~”

“Ah, Floyd.” Riddle blinked. “Were you… saying something?”

The moray tilted his head, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t think so~? Why’d you ask? Something wrong with you?”

“Nothing’s wrong with me, thank you very much,” Riddle said quickly, turning away from the mer.

“Liar~” Floyd walked faster, stepping ahead of Riddle and turning around, walking backward so he could face the housewarden. “I can feel that you’re off.”

“Even if there was something wrong, I’m not going to just tell you.”

“Ehh~? But isn’t it my birthday? Everyone knows the birthday boy always gets what he wants on his birthday~”

Riddle scoffed. “Not everything.”

“Maybe not you~”

“This has nothing to do with me.”

Floyd frowned. “C’mon, Goldfish. Just tell me already. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Riddle insisted again. “Absolutely nothing.”

“Nuh-uh,” Floyd said with a shake of his head. “I ain’t gonna let you go ‘til you tell me what’s wrong~”

“Preposterous. I’m not telling you anything.”

“Goldfish, I’m serious.” Floyd’s voice went lower for a second. “If there’s anyone that hurt you, just name ‘em and I’ll beat ‘em up.”

Riddle shook his head. “Floyd! Nothing of the sort ever happened. Don’t try beating up random students.”

Floyd stuck out his tongue. “I will if I catch ‘em doing something to you.”

“Nobody did anything to me.” Riddle sighed. “It’s just…”

“Just…?”

The same thorns grew in Riddle’s throat again, and he swallowed a lump, avoiding Floyd’s gaze. His heart grew heavy, pricked in the side, one emotion welling up in his chest, in his eyes, in his head. But this time, he wasn’t going to lose to it. This time, he would push through, this time, he would finally say it—!

“I’m sorry,” Riddle blurted out finally. “I’m sorry for how I was acting earlier, Floyd. I’m sorry for ignoring you, for treating your birthday like any other day. And most of all, I’m sorry for being such a terrible boyfriend.”

The words swarmed out of him, and like a dam that was finally broken, his guilt flowed out, washing over his expressions, the bottom of his lip quivering just slightly. He hated admitting it. He hated admitting he was wrong. But it was worth it, to finally tell Floyd, to finally let go of the feelings he’d been holding that whole day.

Floyd went silent. For a long minute, he didn’t say anything, merely standing there, right in front of Riddle, unmoving. Riddle didn’t know what expression he wore, didn’t know if it was anger, sadness, or something else in those heterochromatic eyes of his. Riddle did, however, hear his breath, the way it hitched, the way it stopped, the way Floyd finally released it.

And then, came a warmth, a warmth like no other as Riddle was embraced all around, everywhere from his head to his toe. He gasped, opening his eyes to see Floyd’s face leaning over him, the taller boy’s chin resting against Riddle’s forehead, and his long arms wrapped around Riddle’s torso.

“Riddle.” The name was unfamiliar on Floyd’s tongue, unfamiliar, but completely natural, like it was meant to be said.

“Floyd…?” Riddle stirred. “What are you—”

“Never say that shit again.”

Riddle froze. “What?”

“Never say you’re a bad boyfriend.” Floyd’s grip tightened around Riddle’s chest. “Cuz you ain’t a bad one. You’re the best goldfish I could ask for.”

“A goldfish isn’t the same as a boyfriend though.”

“This goldfish is my boyfriend.” Floyd buried his head into the crack of Riddle’s shoulder, breathing deeply. “And nothing’s gonna change that. Even though you’re a pretty stupid little goldfish sometimes~”

Riddle narrowed his eyes, pulling away from the mer and pushing him off before walking ahead. “I am not stupid , nor am I little.”

“Ehhh~?” Floyd caught up to Riddle easily. “But you are~! So smart and strong but sooo stupid and small.”

“If you think I’m stupid, you’re just as stupid as I am, if not more so.”

“An insult from Goldfish on my birthday…” Floyd smirked, leaning his head closer. “Cute~”

Riddle flushed. “You’re the only one that could ever think that, Floyd.”

“Ahaha, well I’m the only one you’ll ever get~”

As the street lamps flickered on, the sun now dead under the horizon, Riddle could only sigh, observing Floyd as the mer ran up and down the street, humming a tune. To think he was still full of energy even after such a long day…

Struck by a sudden urge, Riddle reached out, grabbing Floyd’s hand, the mer looking back at him at the sudden action, eyes widening. But that was only for a second, as the next,  Floyd only smirked, clutching Riddle’s hand tighter, not bothering to slow down or stop. Riddle kept pace with the moray, unfazed, the two of them walking in comfortable silence the rest of the way to their dorms.

Once they reached the entrance, Riddle broke away, looking to the side, the red color on his face reduced to a mild blush.

“Thank you.”

Floyd blinked. “For what?”

“For everything,” Riddle said quietly. 

It was the truth. Even though Floyd was an annoying, irritating moray, Riddle couldn’t even begin to name all the things he’d done, all the times Floyd had stayed with Riddle when he was upset, all the times Floyd had wrapped his arms around Riddle, those warm limbs enveloping him with peace, assurance that everything was okay.

But Floyd seemed to understand. With his eyes softening for just a moment, the mer looked away, shoving his hands into his pockets and smirking. “You’re the one to thank, giving me the best birthday ever.”

“The best…?” Riddle turned his head toward the moray. “Surely that’s a lie—”

“It’s not.” Floyd paused, looking back at Riddle with clear eyes. “Any birthday with Goldfish is the best birthday ever—nah, the best day ever.”

The best day ever. Riddle’s chest tightened, his throat closing up. Was it really the best day ever if Riddle had ruined it from the start? Was it really the best day ever if Riddle had ignored him, refused to spend time with him, and only realized what he was doing wrong after he’d made Floyd upset?

Riddle didn’t think so. He didn’t think so, and yet as he stared at the mer, with his feet frozen in place and his mind overwhelming him with emotions, he wanted to believe it was the truth.

He wanted to believe Floyd, and it seemed that Floyd wanted Riddle to believe him too, drawing nearer, leaning in closer, whispering in Riddle’s ears.

“Y’know, even if you don’t believe me, I just know you’re gonna make my next birthdays even more fun~” Floyd’s voice then went quieter. “You always make things right anyway. You always ‘do your duty’ or whatever. You always try to do what’s right cuz you’re such a good goldfishie. So it doesn’t matter if you don’t believe me cuz I believe you. Got that?”

Cuz I believe you. Riddle closed his eyes, the tears threatening to spill out of him as he breathed softly nodding slowly.

“…I got it, Floyd.”

Riddle didn’t see the large smile that erupted on Floyd’s face, the way the mer relaxed after hearing the words, the way the mer’s face warmed, tinged with pink. He didn’t see any of it until he took another breath, opening his eyes slowly, blinking back his tears.

“Happy Birthday, Floyd,” Riddle whispered.

Floyd smiled, leaning over and wiping the other boy’s eyes with his thumb. 

“Thanks, Goldfish.”