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Riddle had no idea how long he'd been staring at the checkered floor of his bedroom.
His legs swung idly as he fought the urge to completely curl in on himself, hands grasping the edge of his mattress. The plush red bedding he crushed in his grip offered no comfort as his head spun.
He still couldn't believe he'd overblotted.
The floor before his eyes kept swirling, the black bleeding into and taking over the white like spilled ink.
Riddle’s veins still hummed with the echo of the power rush that had nearly consumed him. It would be easier if the entire experience had simply been horrible, but even though shame permeated every second of his memories, the euphoria had been intoxicating.
Head bowed, doubt swelled up inside of his chest.
He removed his crown, barely sparing his reflection a glance before discarding it next to his scepter on his bed. There was no rule that invalidated his leadership, but…
A light knock at the door offered a reprieve from his thoughts.
There were few people who would brave the potential storm and see him so soon after the incident. Foolishly hopeful, Riddle raised his head. “Come in.”
He'd almost managed to sound composed.
“How are you holding up?” Trey let himself in, the answer to prayers Riddle didn't deserve to make. His expression was soft. “I see you’re right where I left you.”
That was right— Trey had taken him to the nurse’s office, brought Riddle back to his room, and then Riddle had been frozen there the entire time.
Riddle shrugged. “Well, there’s nothing else to be done about it. I guess.”
Trey sat down next to Riddle on the bed, close but not touching him. Every bit of distance made Riddle's chest ache, though he couldn’t blame Trey for it. Despite how supportive Trey had been while escorting him around and making sure he was alright, Riddle suddenly feared that he’d start to withdraw. Now that he wasn’t a sobbing nuisance, Trey could go back to how things were. Riddle didn’t have the right to ask for anything more, right?
He didn't even have to look at Trey to imagine him adjusting his glasses, awkwardly smiling despite being flustered as he started to say, “I—”
“I'm sorry,” they said in unison.
Riddle and Trey made eye contact. Trey was indeed smiling in his unsure way, and Riddle was selfishly put at ease. Riddle still slumped his shoulders. “Everyone saw what I’m sorry for. I think I owe you something extra, for lashing out when you were just trying to help.” His overblotted state had been largely out of his control, but some dark part of him had enjoyed it. Deep down, he'd wanted to snap and snarl at everyone, with a particular vindictiveness for Trey. “After that, you'd still apologize to me for something?”
“I don't think you were entirely wrong to be angry with me,” began Trey. “I-”
Riddle couldn’t hear it. Unfortunately, his temper was always close enough to the surface to count on in an instant.
“I overblotted and almost killed you!” Riddle suddenly stood up, facing Trey while he still fought back tears. “Don’t just say things because you feel bad for me!”
Trey sighed, unflinching but tired in the face of Riddle’s turbulent emotions. “That's actually what I'm sorry for, Riddle. All this time I never spoke up, all this time I didn't listen to my own convictions, all this time I wasn't honest. By the time I said anything, of course it felt like a betrayal. I was too late. Even though I knew you could be overbearing or take things too far, I kept thinking it wasn't actually that bad, but I didn't know it would lead you so far so fast.”
Riddle deflated. “No one knew. I guess I still don't blame you.”
“Heh. That's the thing, isn't it?” Trey reached out, taking Riddle’s hand, just as he'd done when rescuing Riddle from the final stretch of his overblot. “I knew what you'd been through; I thought I understood. In the end, I still failed to avoid being someone who added to your pain.”
“Was it so obvious to everyone else?” Riddle swallowed hard, hesitantly letting himself hold Trey's hand. “I didn't even understand it myself.”
“No, not at all.” Trey coughed and let go of Riddle’s hand. “Frankly?”
“Spit it out.”
“They all thought your personality was just like that.”
Riddle almost chuckled. “A fair assumption.”
It was quiet for a few moments. Riddle shifted on his feet, back to being wary. He rubbed his face. “We already talked about it, you know. You don’t have to be here.”
Trey patted the bed next to him, inviting Riddle to sit back down. His tone was kind. “I want to be here.”
He was acting just as Riddle needed, which only made Riddle’s self-loathing rear its head. Riddle didn’t take the invitation. His eyes were drawn to the floor again, seeing it as entirely dark. “Why?”
“Why?” repeated Trey. He looked to the side. Riddle had seen him be tactful to the point of avoidance, but this was an outright dodge. “Why do you like strawberries? You can't define that.”
“Strawberries are beautiful and sweet! I'm- I'm not even fit to be a student, much less lead!”
Riddle felt as though he was caught in a whirlpool, finally descending into the dark center no one had touched aloud yet, that he hadn’t even acknowledged inside of his head, but it burst out in a torrent.
“EVERYONE KNOWS SOMETHING I DON’T!” he shouted, waving his arms as Trey flinched back. “They know which rules are right and wrong, but all rules were right to me! All rule breaking was punished! Skipping class or eating a sweet are the same level of offense! Sleeping in by ten minutes was just as bad as missing a question, nevermind failing a test! I can’t put sugar in my tea the way I want! I can’t eat or drink whatever I want! I can’t go outside when I want or talk to people when I want! Everyone else understands what to do without being told, but I don’t know anything! If those rules don’t matter, then— then I don’t know right from wrong, because I’ve always been wrong!” His voice cracked. “I’m wrong, in every way.”
Trey stood up carefully, as though he was approaching a skittish animal. “Riddle—”
“So why would you be here?!” Riddle cried into his hands. “I’m broken! Even if you’d tried to get through to me, it wouldn’t have worked! I tried so hard to be good, but I never was because I can’t understand!”
“Riddle—”
“All you do is clean up my messes when I’ve hurt someone!” Riddle rambled ahead, struggling to breathe as he sobbed and spoke, surprised he had any tears left after the day he’d had. “I do it all the time, and you’re always there to fix it behind my back, because you get what everyone else does, that I’m a bad person, and you should just leave me or take my place—”
“Stop.”
Trey’s tone was so stern that Riddle stopped crying for a moment, stunned. “Huh?”
“That’s enough.” Riddle trembled, a fleeting jolt of fear coursing through him as he imagined Trey finally snapping and hitting him, but Trey did no such thing. Instead, Riddle was gently pulled into a hug, Trey’s arms a comfort around him, even as he still hid his face. “We can’t have a conversation when you’re like this. Breathe with me until you’ve calmed down, okay?”
Riddle sniffled, wiping away his tears. He didn’t give himself permission to hug Trey back. “O-okay.”
Trey’s chest slowly moved against Riddle, easing his body into a slow rhythm. “In for four seconds, hold for four seconds, out for four seconds. Can you do that with me?”
Riddle mutely nodded. He tried his best, but he couldn’t manage to hold his breath as long as he should have. He hid his face in Trey’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, I messed it up, I didn’t mean to!”
“Shhh. There’s no messing up.”
Riddle squeezed his eyes shut, still overwhelmed. “But you said four seconds!”
“That isn’t a rule or anything.” Trey rubbed Riddle’s shoulder. “More like a guideline, you see? A suggestion.”
“Oh.” Riddle breathed deeply, following Trey’s lead. Trey smelled like mint, refreshing and soothing with every inhale through his nose. He let Trey guide him for a few minutes until he felt truly calm. “I’m fine now,” he said quietly.
Trey stepped back, hands still on Riddle’s upper arms. “Alright. Can I say a few things?”
“Yes.” Riddle could feel that his eyes were red. “I’m sorry I’m so difficult.”
“You don’t need to apologize for that. I know who I’m choosing to be with.” Trey grinned, brushing Riddle’s bangs out of his face as Riddle stared at him blankly. “As strawberries go, you may be a tad tart, but I like it.”
Riddle leaned into Trey’s touches, even if he felt like he didn’t deserve them. “Please tell me why.”
Trey hesitated. “I… I don’t want to make this about my feelings.”
“Why would it be bad to know why you’re doing this?” Riddle’s voice was scratchy from his crying. “I just don’t want to be an obligation.”
Trey slid his hands down to Riddle’s wrists, face pinched with worry as he looked down. He often shied away from the spotlight on himself, but Riddle had never seen him seem so reluctant to talk. “You need me right now without anything else attached. I suppose I’m the one worried about my feelings being a burden.”
Riddle shook his head. “I just need the truth from you. No matter what it is.”
No truth could be as crushing as the realization that all those rules had amounted to nothing.
That Riddle had suffered for nothing.
“Riddle, I…”
Trey knelt down on one knee, Riddle’s hands clasped in his. He looked up to Riddle with adoration shining on his face. “I’ve wanted to spend more time with you ever since the day we met as children. You’re on my mind all the time because I care about you. I know things have been difficult, I know I made some wrong choices, and I didn’t have the right answers, but I want the chance to keep trying. You’re… you’re someone I’m incredibly fond of, and however close you’ll allow me to be, I want to be at your side.”
Riddle held onto Trey like a lifeline. He couldn’t believe someone could see him at his absolute worst and want to stay with him. “Really?” he whispered. “You saw all of that and would still stay?”
“The only thing worse than imagining you overblotting again is the idea of not being there for you if it happened.” Trey grimaced. “I don’t want to lay down anything at your feet that you don’t want. If you need to forget I said anything—”
“Absolutely not!” Riddle regained some of his composure, waving his hand to dismiss the notion. “Trey, I’m… I’m happy.” He dragged his sleeve across his face. “That’s all I want too. I just want to be close to you, but I felt like there were so many reasons you wouldn’t want to be around me.” He managed to smile. “I want you to stay.”
Trey tenderly pulled Riddle closer, still holding his hand. He planted a kiss on the back of Riddle’s glove, smirking eyes meeting Riddle’s face as Riddle blushed. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
“You- you’re into that fast,” gasped Riddle.
Chuckling, Trey rose to his feet. “Now that you know how I feel, can you see why I’m not deterred by anything? And…” His expression got softer yet more serious again. “...that as someone who cares for you, I want to help you, not punish or hurt you.”
“I know.” Riddle couldn’t believe he’d gotten so wrapped up in his past that he’d been worried about Trey. “Deep down, I knew that. I just… I couldn’t think clearly.”
“It’s okay.” Trey glanced around the room, gaze alighting on the alarm clock. “It’s getting late. I initially came in here to ask if you might like to have a sleepover.”
Riddle’s heart skipped a beat. “A sleepover?”
“Yeah.” Trey rubbed the back of his neck, a bashful smile back on his face. It fascinated Riddle to learn what he felt comfortable with and what made him shy again. “We never got to have one as kids, you know?”
“That sounds nice.” Riddle felt giddy at the idea. “Should we get changed into sleepwear? What other customs are there?”
Trey shrugged, nonchalant. “It’s anything we want it to be, but yes. We can get changed and talk about whatever we want.”
Riddle nodded enthusiastically. “Right! I’ll see you in a few minutes, then.”
His mind whirled as Trey left for the moment. He couldn’t believe how much better he felt already. He was going to try his hardest, and even though he still felt out of his depth, he didn’t have to worry about Trey leaving.
He’d have help. Maybe he could still do this.
Riddle changed into his red flannel pajamas and returned the crown and scepter to their rightful place on his dresser, both objects feeling lighter than before. He then turned, breaking out into a short run and flopping onto the bed with a bounce. He couldn’t help kicking his legs as he rolled onto his back with a grin, wondering how it would be to share a bed with someone. Would Trey sleep well? Did Riddle snore? He didn’t actually know. As Housewarden, he was reasonably sure his bed was comfortable, but maybe Trey would need extra blankets?
Trey knocked on the door again before letting himself in. Riddle raised his head and waved Trey over to the bed. Trey was in a t-shirt and casual pants with his plush clover pillow in his arms, which was immediately endearing to Riddle. “See? I got ready.”
“Indeed.” Trey laid down on the bed next to Riddle, the two staring at the ceiling as if it was the sky. “You know how earlier, you were upset that you couldn’t time your breaths right, but that it was okay if you could only manage two seconds, or you held your breath for even longer?”
“Yeah." Riddle sighed. "Guess that was silly of me.”
“Well, I had a point.” Trey turned his head to look at Riddle. “This doesn’t apply to everything, but a lot of rules are more like guidelines.”
Riddle frowned. “They aren’t phrased like it. They’re very clear. Even when there’s an exception, such as not using magic against anyone else except in emergency situations, that’s explicitly laid out.”
“Riddle. Think about how everyone else behaves. They bend the small rules all the time.” Riddle opened his mouth to protest and Trey cut him off. “I know you have a hard time with that idea, but you already have a sense of some of the rules you didn’t want to follow, right? Those rules that really are preventing something harmless, like having your favorite flavor of tea or pastries at whatever time you want, are okay to be broken.”
“I… I guess.”
“If other people don’t have to follow them,” pressed Trey. “You don’t either, right?”
“Hmm. That does seem fair.” Riddle wrestled with it in his mind. “I guess I felt I was being fair because I was equally as strict on myself as everyone else.” He squirmed, still unsatisfied. “But some rules are important. I just… I don’t really get it.”
Trey hummed. “That’s why you have to evaluate them for yourself. Think of it like this: don’t laws change all the time? People find improvements, situations change, anything can be legislated. So you can be a part of that process too. Some of the Queen’s laws have a purpose, and others have been outgrown. That’s how things work.”
That made much more sense to Riddle, but he still couldn’t shake the feeling that it was wrong. “Well, what I don’t understand is why some of those rules would exist if they didn’t matter. Like being allowed to linger after a meal.”
“Maybe in a different context, like being too busy to talk, you should leave so you can work on your studies.” Trey yawned. “But other times, it’s fine to chat after lunch. See? If you can explain why you’re doing it, aside from it being a rule, I think it’s worth digging for its purpose.”
Neither of them said it, but both of them knew Riddle was going to go through all 810 rules to check every single one for its validity.
“I’m still struggling to understand making rules that don’t help.” Riddle bit his lip. “Rules that hurt and nothing else.”
Rules that had kept him locked away inside for years.
Trey turned fully onto his side so he could stroke Riddle’s hair. “I’m sorry. I knew the realization would be hard, and I thought it could happen gradually. Ha, I should’ve known you’re too brilliant to not reach the conclusion about what her rules being wrong implied.”
Riddle also rolled over to face Trey, the two of them mere inches apart. He was back to feeling like the chessboard flooring, half euphoric at Trey being with him, half defeated with the crown still cast aside. “I don’t feel brilliant at all. And what I have is just because of how she raised me.”
“I think that you would have been just as amazing, no, even moreso— had you been allowed to play outside, try new foods, and make your own choices. So I know that even if you feel uncertain now, you’ve always been the smartest person I’ve ever met.” Trey’s eyes were warm. “You’ve just found a true challenge for yourself.”
Had Trey always been so open with his admiration? Riddle fought down another blush, even though he was top of his class.
“A challenge, huh?” Riddle already felt determination replacing his anxiety. “I can do that. With you to help me.”
“Of course.” Trey’s voice cracked. “I promise.”
Despite how much Riddle wanted to stay up longer, he also caught himself yawning. Trey herded him under the blankets, following suit and curling up behind Riddle. He set his glasses on the nightstand, draping his arm around Riddle and fixing their blankets one last time. “Is this okay?”
It was more than okay. Riddle’s chest flooded with warmth.
“Yeah.”
The moonlight caught the lenses of Trey’s glasses and Riddle’s throat tightened with longing. He wanted to wake up every day and see signs of Trey around his room, a lingering presence, a reminder that he wasn’t alone anymore. Not just that there was someone who wanted to be with him, but that Trey, his best friend, wasn’t going to be taken away again. Trey, who was now even more entwined with him, in something they could define later.
“Are there rules for… this?” Riddle held Trey’s hand and squeezed it, amazed that he was allowed to.
“No.” Trey kissed the top of Riddle’s head. “None.”
Riddle stared into space for a few moments. It was probably Trey trying to be sweet or pointing out how other people did things, but…
“No. Can’t do it.” Riddle nudged Trey’s leg with his foot. “I need there to be something.”
Trey huffed with fondness, his breath ruffling Riddle’s hair. “Alright then, we can make some guidelines based on what we’re both comfortable with— guidelines we can change any time we need to.”
Riddle relaxed. “Okay.”
“You know we won’t be perfect, right?” Trey held Riddle a little closer. The warmth of his embrace and the cocoon of blankets around them was the coziest thing Riddle had ever experienced. He finally felt safe, like Trey coming into his bedroom had made the dorm feel like a home he’d never had. “I don’t expect it from either of us.”
“I know,” replied Riddle, voice hushed. It was unlikely he’d overblot again, but even so. “I’m scared of what else could happen.”
Trey gave Riddle’s hand a soft squeeze back. “Well, you’re the one I want to figure it out with.”
Riddle’s eyes stung, but he didn’t cry. As daunting as that future sounded, it filled him with something that it took him a moment to identify— joy.
“Me too.”