Oh. Oh. What was Cater doing, looking at him in that way? With that frozen smile - that smile that takes on a completely different feeling. The mischief, coupled with the close way Cater leaned in--

Riddle's hand comes up, pressing against Cater's cheek and shoving at his face to push him away.

"Don't make it weird!" Riddle exclaims, his face flushing again. Had it even ever come down from the previous flush?

"Idiot. Fool." The insults are flung easily, as the small man declares his annoyance -- in this case, more his embarrassment -- with violence, both verbal and physical.