Work Text:
The gardens of Heartslaybul were brighter than they had been before, which was a miracle given the overblot fight not too long ago. This was how it should be; a wild and colourful garden, brimming with magic. The Housewarden agreed to be less strict with beheading the dorm members so everyone was happier, laughter unrestrained.
In celebration, yet another Unbirthday party was held.
The tablecloths were crisp white, all roses painted red and the doormouse asleep in the teapot… for whatever reason.
Obviously, the two lunatics who Yuu always had around were currently by one of the many tables of treats. Sugar glazed strawberry tarts, ones topped with freshly picked blueberries, toasted pecan pies and more cakes than hands to reach for them. Ace, Deuce and Grim (so that would technically be three lunatics right?) were fighting over who got a bigger slice, which to Yuu meant things were back to normal again.
Somewhat. I mean, you still weren’t home, nor was there any progress made on that endeavor at all (thanks Crowley), but at least Riddle wasn’t going berserk anymore.
Speaking of which-
The redhead in question sat at the middle of all the chaotic beauty. He looked a lot better than before, not pale and covered in remnant ink and grime from the blot, and even from before that, his expression was no longer sour or perpetually irritated. He looked… softer around the edges. Calmer, and miles more approachable compared to when he yelled at you during orientation.
The grass crunched softly underfoot as you made your way to the table with a sigh after the last thing you heard was Grim and Ace about to start throwing spells at each other. You sat just a chair away from Riddle, who you swore was just talking to Trey, but now the space you both occupied was quiet. You were content with that, honestly getting ready to maybe take a doze before Riddle cleared his throat.
“P-Prefect,” he started and you looked up.
His face was just a bit pink and he wasn’t making eye contact until he realized your eyes were on him.
“Yes?”
“I-…” he sighs, cutting his sentence before it could even begin properly. He looks away, his hands fidgeting before waving his magic pen and all of a sudden, your chair and you float up and move across to him.
Yuu barely contained an embarrassing startle when it happened but the spell was over as quickly as it was cast.
You cleared your throat, not enthused.
“Housewarden, you could have just asked me to come closer.”
“Apologies. I’m… still getting the hang of this. Excuse my rudeness, it’s unintentional.”
If his words sounded insincere at all, which they didn’t, the look in his eye would have confirmed their truth. From this close, you could see the sun reflected off the shimmering silverish-grey and the color of decorated teacups and glass reflected in them clearly. He looked nervous, a look that was obvious on someone who carried an air of disciplined confidence, so naturally, you were intrigued.
“You seem better, have you been recovering alright?”
He looked up with wide eyes, and you quickly regretted breaching the topic. Maybe you shouldn’t have brought up the blot…was he upset about it? Great way to make him feel better.
“Yes I- I am thank you. I actually wanted to speak with you about that Prefect.”
You tilted your head at that as he turned his head away, reaching for something, but the angle allowed for the small blush at his ears to be visible. When he turned back, he held a small, black and white striped box. The clear plastic at the lid let you see inside.
It was a small cherry tart. The cherries seemed to have been coated unevenly in a sugar shell, and dusted with gold in varying amounts. The whipped cream wasn’t sturdy, already melting on three of the dollops and the crust seemed cracked in two places, letting some red filling just nearly leak out.
He held it out towards you, and looked up shyly for a split second before straightening himself.
“You made another tart?” you asked, taking it gently from his gloved hands.
“Yes. It’s not in accordance with any rule-” he starts to say before doubling back on his words having looked at your expression.
“As an apology,” he settled on, “for the trouble and any injury I caused. And as a thank you, for helping me regain my senses in-” there’s slight hesitation in his voice and then, a sombre expression on his face, “a time when I most needed it.”
Your eyes remain on the small box. It was clear from earlier Riddle’s baking was…not his strongest skill, and yet he made the earlier strawberry tart and this one, in an earnest attempt of reconciliation. It also did not escape you that Riddle most likely put an ungodly amount of oyster sauce in making this one too.
It seems he caught on with your train of thought because the embarrassed expression returns to his face.
“You don't have to eat it! I’m- aware it will taste overly-salted to say the least.” He sighs. “And forgive me for being so out of sorts, I am usually much more eloquent with my words- I’m just not used to-“
“It’s pretty.”
In truth, it was an ugly dessert, especially when compared to anything Trey made.
Yet, the deep red was striking in the sunlight, and compared to the box’s white interior, it stood out. The cherries sparkled like gems with their sugar shells and although it was melted, you could tell the design of the cream was a calculated one. Riddle wasn’t the type to miss a detail such as equal spacing. The longer you looked at it, the clearer you could practically see Riddle in the dorm kitchen struggling to make it, and the idea made you smile a bit.
He really was a softie at heart.
“I’m sure Grim and I will enjoy it-“
“You don’t have to eat it!” He exclaimed, waving his hands rapidly.
“I don’t even want to imagine how that much salt would affect your health.” He sighed, a hand coming down his face.
“In any case,” he cleared his throat, “Prefect, thank you for your help. Thank you for saving me. And if you ever find yourself in trouble, Heartslaybul’s mirror is always open for you, you have my word as housewarden.” He said that part with a hand over his heart and a small bow of his head, which made you feel more flattered than anticipated.
“I hope we can continue- er- well- I hope to talk to you more and have a…friendship between us both.” He says, his blush hardly concealable.
Ah so that was part of it, he wanted to be friends? Well you certainly didn’t mind.
“I hope so too housewarden Rosehea-“ you start with a smile before he cuts you off.
“Riddle.” he says and you blink at him, knowing very well Ace and Deuce (and the whole dorm) addressed him formally.
“For you, just Riddle is fine.” and as he turned away to go address the sudden RSA visitor, you saw the small smile on his face.
