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To Riddle, spring break meant nothing but the extra hassle of meeting his parents, once again forced into rigidity of words and action that rivals even his self-discipline. With his parents' attention and scrutiny constricting him, - unless his sister was nearby, which was a rare occurrence - there was nowhere for him to run.
That is, until this year.
Seeing as how Riddle was nearing eighteen, the peak of his teenager years, and with his father calming his mother down from another episode of hers, they left the entire house to him. The Rosehearts manor, in its full majesty, was left to Riddle's own devices.
Of course, he's a reasonable, responsible young man; he's never let his parents down. This spring break, he attempted, successfully, not to deviate much from his study schedules, working daily on finals preparation hour by hour as the birds chirped outside in a chorus unison. It reminded him of the days he'd spent exploring the area around the house, one hand in Chen'ya's and another in Trey's: the way they'd play around until they were tired from running and sprinting and jumping, until the little kiddy wristwatch on Riddle's hand signaled independent study time over... Until the magic went cold, they had all the world to themselves.
Ten years later, Riddle was still encaged with no one to sing to. And even though the world was at his disposal, he could not bear to leave the house until his studies were over with.
And once they were, he bolted outside like crazy.
There was so much around the house that he had been prohibited from even staring at: from the neighbors' orange-trees and hydrangea bushes lining the neighborhood to the rocky cliff by the seaside his living-room oversaw, it was with a childish - infantile and stupid, Riddle noted to himself with a fluster of weak self-discipline - impulse that he discovered this entire world.
So far, the sea had been his favorite place to stay, a refuge of sorts: the seafoam, hypnotizing his senses, lapped over the stones as the wind breeze brought upon salty air into his lungs. It made him feel alive, somehow, watching the shade and the sunlight dance upon the waves' very blades.
One day, as he sat by the shore, squatting, his gaze followed a particularly large shadow in the sea. He found it odd, but not particularly so; not until it showed itself.
Splash.
"Li'l Goldfish," said shadow emerged, sticky and clammy with water. It was none other than Floyd Leech, his mer-boyfriend, and the stupidest eel in the world, or so he thought. "What'cha doing by the shore?"
Riddle adjusted his bucket hat. "Simply relaxing is all. Am I not allowed such a privilege anymore?"
"We should play together, Goldfish. You should've just told me so before we left for break!"
Floyd had lodged his scaled body in-between two large rocks, just so that he had enough water not to dry out and enough to grin at Riddle with the same idiocy he always donned.
"I have no intention of "playing" with you," Rosehearts huffed, squinting, "and our meeting was but a chance one."
Floyd giggled. "No it wasn't. This is where we met years ago."
(Back then, the little eel's smile had been so dazzling; his webbed hand waved at Riddle, splashing him with saltwater as his parents rowed away.)
"...hey, Floyd."
"Mmh? Goldfishie is being boring, so I wanna play." he stuck his tongue out, and in a second, Riddle's hat was off of his head. Floyd swam towards the shoreline, fin flapping in the water and rippling waves towards the cliff. "Catch me if ya can!"
"Wait! Floyd!!!"
Riddle tripped over himself, struggling to run and catch up to the eel swimming beside him - alas at a much faster pace. It was unfair, he thought; even Azul remarked that the Leech twins were faster than goddamn broomsticks when in their true forms!
He ran out of breath by the time Floyd had halted, and he had, shockingly, swam back to Riddle, who was now panting heavily and clutching at his knees, doubled over. Floyd set the wet bucket hat on the mop of red hair, seeing the water trickle down onto the crown of his boyfriend's head and cackling at the sight of his face going red with anger.
"What's wrong with you?! Can't you just leave me alone for, I don't know, a week?"
"I love Goldfishie waaay too much," Floyd clung to Riddle now, hugging him with those wet scales, "I think he's so fun to tease!"
Ah, yes. The typical strategy that makes Riddle throw in the towel and shower in affections instead. He scolded himself mentally over how easy to win he is with Floyd.
(It always worked. After all, it's Floyd and Floyd alone, isn't it.)
"You're drenching my clothes in saltwater," Rosehearts backed away, grimacing. Floyd had nonetheless grinned all along as his boyfriend took a shaky breath, "and, Floyd. What I wanted to say is... if you have one of your land potions, you can visit me over there."
He pointed over at the manor, seeing Floyd's eyes twinkle with mischief. Perhaps he'll come to regret such a decision...
"Ehe, does Goldfish want me to meet his family or something?"
He knew well this was teasing, so why not come back at him? "Mhm. Maybe someday soon."
He thinks his mother would get around to tolerating Floyd in a couple years or so; his father would warm up to him, eventually, as well. After all, with words of encouragement and support echoing within Riddle's ears, he can no longer chalk his lack of confidence up to the wavering and fleeting sentiments of his family. For the first time in a while, he can imagine a future.
He'd never miss the way Floyd's eyes widened for the world; in the span of a moment, Riddle stood there, soaking wet to the bone and smiling like an idiot. He hadn't even noticed when the sun had begun setting, or when Floyd's webbed hand found his cold palms.
"Serves you right for getting my clothes wet."