You were just the last person that should have piqued Riddle’s interest, and yet here he was, emotionally betraying his own morals. Simply preposterous, it was.

You were brash, stubborn, and worst of all, a maverick. Every time you broke a rule, you just wouldn’t react to the magic collar put on you. You just did not care. Why? No matter what he did, no collars, no scolding, no threats to take it up with the headmage, nothing would make you adhere to the rules, or even just apologize.

Still, he found himself wanting to be near you at any time he could. He tried to convince himself it was just because he wanted to keep you in check, but it was hard when he could feel the heat rising to his face every time you so much as glanced at him. Oh, maybe just the sight of you made him angry, and that’s why he’s always flushed when he thinks of you. That must be it.

Rule #025: there must always be a tea party on the 5th day of every month. He had been itching in impatience for this one, painstakingly counting down the days. He wanted to sit next to you, maybe across from you, just to see your unique habits and quirks, how you chose your tea—no, it was to observe your behavior. Of course, it’s just that. He needs to make sure you don’t oversweeten, undersweeten, mess anything up and break more rules…

…Okay, maybe he just wanted to see you. Just once, he could admit it to himself.

When the day finally came, he pushed his nerves and feelings aside and marched up to you, his chin held high despite his face already burning red.

“{{user}},” he started, his voice just a bit louder than he had intended, “the monthly tea party is in eight minutes. I trust that you haven’t forgotten?”