Chapter Text
If anyone were to wonder why Riddle Rosehearts didn’t pursue relationships, they might have many assumptions to choose from. From the dorm leader’s high expectations -of not just himself but everyone around him- to his equally as famous short temper, even the people who know him well would have been surprised to see him become that closely invested in someone for long enough to consider them a friend, let alone a romantic partner.
Their assumptions would be right, but not for the reasons one would assume. High expectation and a short temper had certainly kept Riddle from pursuing anyone, but it also keeps anyone from pursuing him as well.
Which was all for the best really. From a young age, Riddle had accepted that his life was not his own. Be it through protecting him from anything that could cause him harm, shielding him from the world and its people until it was just the two of them alone together, suffocating him under her rules and strictures until he was forced to become them or drown, his mother’s love had made sure of that.
If Riddle had his choice, he'd never experience something so awful as love again. But who has ever had that luxury? How could he resist such a creeping sensation, coming up on him as he makes friends. Lapping at his ankles whenever Chenya smiles sincerely, or filling his lungs whenever Trey makes him tarts. Climbing up his throat on the rare occasions he manages to receive his mother's approval.
It’s worse when it’s gone, when it leaves (and it always does). He does something bad, and people go away. Even his mother had eventually grown tired of their little bubble and tossed his love away like an unwanted doll.
No matter how hard he tries nothing is ever good enough, Riddle isn’t good enough. Even the people who claimed to love him despite that had pushed him away when he became too much (and he always becomes too much).
Laying in bed, Riddle clenches his eyes against the darkness eating away at his mind. Sleep stands no chance against the swirling doubts creeping through the inky black, stalking around his strangled heart like a treasure to covet.
“You’re wrong," he whispers into the oppressiveness. “You have people who care about you. They said so themselves. You need to remember to trust, even when love fails."
Riddle trusts his friends to stay, he does. He doesn’t need their love so long as they just please stay.
Love would just drive them away, as he has found so many times before. He can’t risk it again.
Yes, things have changed since Riddle overblotted; there’d been no other choice. Continuing on as he had would solve nothing, and he’d find himself right back where he couldn’t afford to be again. It was too much, he was too much. The pressure that would break him and everyone else around him needed to be let go.
As Ace had quite frankly put it, Riddle needed to calm the fuck down.
(But how else is he supposed to show his love?)
Riddle needs to open up to letting people in, as Chenya had advised.
(But isn’t that what he’s been doing?)
He needs to lower his expectations to a more reasonable degree, Trey pleaded.
(He needs to love less.)
Give people more chances, Deuce begged.
(But how can he when-)
Sitting up to flick on a light, Riddle heaves a frustrated sigh as he resigns himself to another sleepless night. Why had everything become so complicated? Why couldn’t things be simple and follow a strict set of rules. How was he supposed to let people in if he wasn’t allowed to love them in the only way he knows how?
How did one go about loving in moderation when all they’d ever known were its extremes?
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Queen of Hearts rule #413: When one does not know the answer, one must search it out through any means necessary.
Books have never failed Riddle before, and he doesn’t expect them to now. He’s hunted out every source of information on the subject of love the library has to offer (even a few of the less....tasteful ones his mother had forbidden him to ever read), piling them up on the table around him. It’s….a lot to take in if he is being honest, overwhelming in a way not even studying for his hardest classes can get.
But still, Riddle perseveres. He has to in order for any new connections he makes to survive. Familial ties may be a mostly lost cause, but he still has a chance to moderate his platonic affection down to a more acceptable state before he drives off what few friends he’s managed to make and keep for good..
The books on romantic love can be pushed aside. The closest he’s ever experienced to what they describe is a mess better left un-revisited. If his platonic love is too much for people it is nothing compared to how he feels when-
The books are shoved further, as if the act alone could shove his train of thought away with them. If only that worked, Riddle's life would be so much-
One of the books moves further than intended, his thoughts scattering with it as Floyd Leech plops down into the seat across the table.
“What’re we obsessing over today, Goldfish?" he asks, flipping the book open.
Riddle is pretty sure he has never moved so fast in his entire life, up out of the chair and throwing himself across the table to grab the offending novel before Floyd’s eyes can adjust enough to read any of what’s actually written in it.
"...what did I grab up your diary or something?" Floyd wonders, giving the heaving redhead a bemused look. “Shouldn’t leave stuff like that out in the open where just anyone can mosey along."
“Why would I bring my diary to the library?" Riddle hisses, scrambling back when Floyd tries for another swipe.
"....porn then?"
"DEFINITELY NOT!"
Floyd grins, holding up another book, cover out for him to see. “You sure about that?"
"IT’S NOT-" Riddle chokes himself off, glancing around the library frantically before leaning in to explain in a quieter tone, "-they’re romance novels, which are-"
"-basically the same thing," Floyd interrupts, unknowingly echoing his mother’s past lectures over such distasteful literature. Which judging by the covers of some of that particular stack might not be too far off the mark, but still-!
“Irrelevant!" Riddle insists anyways. “I’d already decided not to bother with them before you-"
“Before I…?” Floyd wonders, kicking his chair back hazardously to crack open his prize. His nose scrunches up cutely at whatever he finds before tossing it aside. "....huh. Yeah, no, you’re right. This is boring."
Riddle collapses back into his chair, feeling like he's just dodged a bullet somehow.
“As...as i was saying," he lifts another book, peering over its top and willing his temper to cool along with his face. He doesn’t actually know what he was saying though, and now Floyd is staring at him expectantly waiting for some sort of conclusion.
“I…” he clears his throat. “I don’t actually know why I grabbed those in the first place, since I’d already decided against pursuing that sort of thing….maybe for the thoroughness of research…”
"....are we still talking about porn? I’m lost."
“Romance! You were the only one talking about pornography!"
Floyd’s eyes hold Riddle’s as he reaches across the table to tug away the book in his hands. Riddle reminds himself that knocking the whole table over is an idea not worth pursuing.
“’The Magical Language of Others'," Floyd reads. “’How to Create and Maintain Bonds'."
Whatever hopes Riddle had about cooling off vanish instantly as he feels his face nearly catch fire from sheer embarrassment. The serrated grin Floyd is giving him does nothing to help just like always.
“Aww~…is Goldfish trying to learn how to make friends~?"
“Yes. Actually." Riddle grinds out stiffly. Floyd’s amusement melts into surprised curiosity as he tilts his head.
“Oh. Huh. But you already have those, yeah? A whole pod of them now, last I checked. Or did you run them all off again already?"
Already. Like its a foregone conclusion that Riddle would do that (too much. too much). That all of this is only temporary (never enough. never enough).
“I need," Riddle takes a breath in sharply, letting it out slower, “-to learn how to calm down."
“Oh~, that’s easy! Just squeeze the things that frustrate you. You already sorta do that though, and I don’t think its helping any…Maybe squeeze the things you like instead?”
“Not that kind of- why am I even talking to you about this. Give me back my book so I can study."
“Get your own I’m reading this one."
“I had it first you-!"
But Floyd has chosen to ignore him completely now, burying his face in the tome as if to prove some sort of point. Riddle would be shocked if the eel was actually taking any of the words in, but its not like he didn’t have several other stacks to choose from. And if it keeps Floyd quiet, he supposes he can let it go.
Eyeing the eel up suspiciously, Riddle reaches out to grab a different book. “Are you actually interested? Or are you going to run off and get me in trouble again like last time?"
Floyd shrugs in lieu of actually answering, glancing up for a moment to grin widely at Riddle before ducking back behind the book. He seems entertained for the moment though, so as long as he stays quiet, Riddle decides to leave it be to continue his own studies.