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When the first drop of rain fell on his head, Riddle knew his mother would definitely kill him.
He was coming back home from his spring lessons, a specific course his mother had signed him up to not forget what was learnt over the past months. Riddle didn’t even try to manifest his disagreement, as the house’s harmony was so fragile Riddle knew walking on a rope suspended on an abyss would have been an easier task.
When Riddle’s own judgement deemed a confrontation with his mother possible, he tried talking to her. But the spring lessons were a non-negotiable topic between them. So, Riddle finally stepped out into the fresh air after spending ten long hours bending over his books.
The evening felt chill on his face; even though spring had arrived so abruptly to the point Riddle had to look for his fresher outfits, he was now surprised to realize he needed to button all the way up his linen shirt, a purchase his mother brought back from a trip in the Scalding Sands.
Even if the last days were as sunny as a typical summer week, Riddle should’ve known better about rain hidden in a corner. And, he also should’ve known better about accepting Trey’s proposal to follow him into his room.
“I should really go,” Riddle weakly protested as Trey had offered him a change of clothes since his outfit was now drenched a lot.. Riddle tried being careful while walking into Trey’s house, as little puddles were left where his feet stopped. He was now dirtying the Clover’s cozy house, such a tiny place compared to villa Rosehearts; yet, as Riddle’s eyes wandered through the walls full of happy memories, he couldn’t help but notice how much warmer that house was compared to his own home. While following Trey into the long hallway, Riddle felt bad for him. Trey had left his place at the pastry shop only to help him, and now Riddle was leaving a mess behind. He didn’t like being such a burden to anyone, let alone to Trey himself.
“Let me lend you a hoodie, at least” Trey said, busy looking for a piece of clothes that was probably there before the usual seasonal wardrobe change. In the meantime, Riddle stood in the middle of the room looking at Trey’s back, like a little hedgehog whose den was drowned. Pathetic was the most appropriate word to describe himself in that situation.
“If my mother were to see me wearing a hoodie, especially your hoodie,” Riddle tried again to talk back, yet his hands were already unbuttoning his shirt, defeated “She would not hesitate to cut my head off.”
That day had been particularly hard for Riddle, between all those incomprehensible lessons and the urgent need to simply jump out of a window as the world outside had seemed to him so much happier, brighter than the tiny, suffocating classroom. Riddle couldn’t almost grasp his professor’s words, even though he knew not paying attention would have come with a serious consequence. If his mother had to know his son was distracted in class, Riddle would have never heard the end of it. So, he tried to focus on his own calligraphy, unreadable even before his eyes, as if those letters were written by someone else entirely.
Trey’s soft laugh came to Riddle like a caress, the same one he had been dreaming about all morning, all day. Riddle saw Trey walking towards him, handing him a towel with a strong, lavender scent so Riddle could finally dry up a bit. He hadn’t realized he had been trembling since he stepped into Trey’s house. Riddle perceived those shivers only when Trey’s eyes focused on Riddle’s violet lips.
“I think she would actually worry, if you were to knock at your house all soaked up,” Trey pointed out with the same dull voice he reserved for his mother only. Riddle couldn’t blame it all.
He tried so hard to shrug off the feeling Trey was still looking at his lips. Riddle simply diverted his attention on the hoodie the other one had given him, together with a pair of comfortable trousers that were so different from his, always made with a rough fabric that made his legs all scratchy.
Trey’s clothes looked so big on him; Riddle was almost certain the trousers belonged to Trey’s younger brother, but the hoodie was definitely Trey’s. Riddle moved the hood to fix his red hair, to dry them up a bit. He knew he was looking so miserable, so odd with those precious clothes Trey had lent him; yet, Riddle realized he didn’t care at all. Not when Trey’s smile was so warm Riddle was sure all the cold attached to his bones had now disappeared.
“I can offer you an umbrella, or,” Trey was now so close Riddle needed to look up in order to meet his shining eyes.
“You can wait for the rain to calm down a bit and eat something in the meanwhile.”
He was supposed to decline such a gentle offer, Riddle knew it. His mother had probably already called it so many times all the notifications had piled up in his phone. Oh, there was no way he could avoid some lecture, but did it really matter when Trey’s hand was now caressing his cheek so gently Riddle forgot about the world around them for a minute?
Riddle felt a bit guilty. Trey couldn’t help but show his worries towards him, all of that sadness that seemed to darken Trey’s amber eyes. Riddle should’ve been more strong, more firm in refusing all of that kindness. But he didn’t possess any strength left, not when he was so close to passing out from hunger as the almonds his mom had given him that morning weren’t enough to soothe his pain.
“I should really go,” Riddle said again. Trey was looking so sad he didn’t seem to notice Riddle’s sincere smile now brightening up his face.
“However, I believe the best course of action is to notify my mother I’m coming home later this evening.”
They moved at the same time, meeting halfway. Riddle was sure he was feeling Trey’s smile touching his heart during their kiss.