'cause you're my king and I'm your lionheart

[selfie_centered]

♦️🌹

and in the sea that's painted black
creatures lurk below the deck
but you're a queen and I'm a lionheart

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[selfie_centered]

[Right... right. They're both on the same page, clearly. The same page of cooling down, of not jumping down into rabbit holes they can't climb out of.

But it's different now, isn't it? Something has changed. The way Riddle looks in the dim of windowlight has changed. What was just a lovely sight to see before has become something dangerously desirable.

What's undesirable is the idea of Riddle's disappointment— something much stronger than the fatigued mortification of his own lack of control that's drumming through his head. Maybe Cater would like to go find a closet alone somewhere to scream about this, but not right now.

it's still a secret after all. it's safe.

Cater wiggles his hand, turning his palm up under Riddle's hand until he can grasp those last two fingers of his.]

...good night, Housewarden.

[carefully chosen words and soft, green eyes. that's all Cater can be right now. he can overthink later.]