Riddle's still coming to terms with the fact that he is recovering from Overblot and it's not going too well. An old acquaintance and a current annoyance doesn't want to leave him alone, though. Turned into a semi-slow burn Floyd/Riddle fic with men...
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Riddle was ashamed of himself. He glanced down at the tissue in his hand, taking note of the splotchy ink that he had coughed up only moments ago. A reminder that he had failed not only Heartslabyul, but himself. He had been so obsessed with filling the role of the Queen of Hearts, of becoming what his mother had instilled in his head time and time again. There was no room for mistakes. You had to be perfect no matter what. And because of that blind faith, he had almost died and taken his friends with him. Even now, a couple days later, he still found it hard to face them. Especially Trey. He had been attentive at the infirmary, then at home when he had been cleared to rest in his own bed. He didn't deserve it, not really.
The days drained on as the rest of the dorm was attending classes. While he truly didn't believe he deserved the attention they were giving him, a part of him still craved that affection he had been trying so desperately to get before he became afflicted with Overblot. He wouldn't have blamed them if they hated him and stopped visiting, but he certainly didn't want them to. And now that he was alone and by himself, he felt useless.
He stared out the window at the roses. There were traces of white poking through already and a part of him was thankful. Things would go back to normal. A new normal where he could actually make the lasting relationships he had been craving. Riddle pressed his lips into a fine line, glancing from the trees towards his door, then to the trees once more. Truly, despite the cough, he was feeling fine. As long as he didn't try to use his magic, there was no need to wait on that new normal. The boy got out of his bed, taking a deep breath as he moved towards the large dresser in his room to put on his normal school uniform. He could almost hear Trey lecturing him about going out so soon after he had been sick, but he'd be fine. The worst he had was a little cough.
It wasn't hard to leave the dorm--there was no one really there in the mid-day. While he was certain some of the students wouldn't have had classes at that time, most enjoyed spending the afternoon lazing around outside of the dorm. Guilt began to prickle under his skin. That's because of you. They were afraid to come back. As he was leaving the dorm's property, he noticed one of the croquet hoops tilted to it's side. His hand twitched slightly, taking note of Rule 238--the croquet court must always remain in pristine condition. Anger started to boil inside of his stomach, though he willed himself to take a few deep breaths. One. Two. Three. He was working on it, he really was. Chewing on the inside of his cheek, he moved to place the hoop back properly into the ground, even going so far as to try to cover some of the larger part of the hole that was created when it was nudged.
Riddle pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, rubbing at the lingering dirt on his fingers as he moved towards the school. "You're doing good." He whispered to himself, almost wishing Trey, Cater, Ace, or Deuce were there to tell him the same. A part of him was afraid that without them, he would just fall back into the same old habits. When he had become afflicted with Overblot, he had still thought he was doing the right thing, after all.
