splitmemory | riddle/cater shenanigans

It did look like he was studying. Riddle's about to comment when Cater moves to sit down next to him, looking at the books that Riddle'd picked out.

Scribbling something down in his notebook, shifting his gaze back down to the paper he was currently writing on.

Once he finished jotting that down, he lifts his head again to glance to Cater, "Yes -- I decided to plan out our dinners for the next week and a half. This way, I can take into account what I might need to get for them, as well as plan out my preparation time and make sure we're both getting enough nutrients."

Cooking was something he really had no clue on. Not that he was going to ask Cater to help, when he'd taken up that meal as his to take care of!!

"Soooo much work..."

Cater flops halfway onto the table, looking at Riddle from over his arms. Yeah, that all sounded like Riddle's style all right. And here Cater was just going to come up with different breakfasts based on what they already had in the kitchen. If Riddle showed him up that much, he'd have to really start putting more effort into it.

He's just about to whine about this realization when he notices something else. Distracted, he asks:

"Hey, isn't that one of my sweaters?"

Somehow? Being caught wearing Cater's sweater felt like being caught far more than the very fact he was here instead of in their dorm.

Riddle sputters, unsure exactly how to respond. Does he lie? No, this sweater was obviously too big on him. Besides, wouldn't Cater recognize his own clothes? How do you even lie about something like this?? Riddle stares at Cater, his cheeks tinting red as easily as always.

"So what if it is?" Riddle decides on, closing his notebook with a snap in front of himself. "I needed something warm to wear." Turning his chin up at Cater, he continues, "If I'd borrowed something of Trey's, I'd have to do his laundry before he returned. You and I will most likely be doing laundry together anyways."

Yes, because that's a good excuse. Sure.

It was cute, just how defensive Riddle got about it. How can he possibly be mad, seeing such a display? He grins, face still a bit flushed. "It looks good on you," he says, reaching over and running a hand down Riddle's closest arm. "You picked a good one."

His hand finally settles by Riddle's, fingertips idly brushing at the back of the other boy's hand.

"You can borrow whatever you want, I don't mind at all."

Ugh, why was Cater so charming? The hand against his arm caused his face to heat up more, which Riddle absolutely despised. Stupid. This was stupid. He shouldn't be so embarrassed over this, shouldn't need to defend himself--!

"It won't happen again." Riddle states, annoyed that it was pointed out in the first place, "This was a one time thing." Says the boy who'd snuggled into Cater's jacket when it'd been placed around him, twice.

He can't stop the way his hand twitches slightly at the touch against the back of his hand, the way his hand shifts, pinky and ring finger capturing two of those wandering fingertips, as if idly shifting to hold Cater's hand.

"You didn't need to come all the way out here. You could have messaged me if you were concerned."

It won't happen again, he says. Right, sure. Cater just keeps grinning, his own fingers instinctively pulling Riddle's into a proper embrace once they begin moving. In an instant, their hands are threaded around one another. Cater's opposite hand twirls a lock of his hair.

"You mean message you on the phone you left in the kitchen?"

Why was it so natural to slip their hands into each other's? Riddle begins to settle down some, his fingers lacing easily between Cater's, tangling their hands together even further. His opposite hand shifts to rest against his own arm, his focus completely on Cater for the moment.

That is, until he mentions the phone he'd left behind. Blinking, he moves his free hand down, patting at his pants pockets, then against his bag, in the pocket he'd usually slip his phone into.

"... Oh..." Color him corrected. He grimaces. "Well. I was fine. I still am. You don't need to stay here with me."

Right. When Riddle brings it up like that, he remembers he's supposed to be cross with him. Still, he doesn't really feel like lecturing Riddle anymore, especially not knowing that he was doing all of this to prepare for his self-appointed dinner responsibilities.

"I was worried. I figured you must've been feeling better if you were up and moving, but too much and you'll bring your fever right back, you know." That's the extent he feels like getting into it, yawning. "Anyway, I'm here now so I might as well help."

Can Riddle himself be mad at Cater for worrying? Without a way to contact him, to know that he was okay, it was only natural. Instead of being mad with Cater, he finds himself frustrated with himself. How could he have been so careless, to leave his phone behind? He shouldn't have even stayed in the library, he should have carried the books back after collecting them.

About to complain again, his complaints fall flat at the little yawn from Cater. "You're still tired." He notes, glancing briefly down to the books. "..." Cater was worried enough to come out here when he was obviously still tired, after the long day before. "We can work on it back at the dorm. I'll bring these with us." Riddle decides, his hand pulling back from Cater's, to allow him to start packing up.

Cater pouts as Riddle pulls his hand back, holding onto him for as long as he can before reluctantly allowing the separation. Stretching, he stands, reaching for some of the books, as well. "I'll take half of them. Aaaah, I'm so not looking forward to walking back in the snow."

He feels exhausted just at the idea. Man, how is he so tired after he slept so much?

"I still need to make us breakfast, when we get back. It's not too late, is it?"

"No," Riddle tugs the small stack away from Cater, "It's my responsibility. I'm the one who pulled so many down. I should be the one to carry them." Besides, he had a bag to use to carry things in. Cater'd have to carry them in his arms and-- well, that would mean they'd be less able to hold hands.

Riddle stands up, beginning to slip things into his bag, glancing up towards Cater.

"... It's most likely closer to lunch time by now." Hard to tell, without looking at a clock. "We can make something together." To make up for the time Cater'd spent already taking care of him yesterday.

There's a stare that Riddle begins to give Cater, beginning to notice that the flush to his face hadn't gone down much yet at all. Was it that cold out? "Is the snow coming down again?"

Cater huffs, but ultimately can't help but smile at Riddle. What was he going to do with this Queen of his?

"Fine, fine..."

He holds up his hands, relenting, and then moves them into his pockets.

"Sounds like a plan, to me. Maybe some tea sandwiches." To go with tea, of course. Cater only thinks about it briefly before Riddle asks about the weather. He shakes his head.

"No, just cloudy and cold. It'll probably snow later."

In the face of Riddle Rosehearts, no one could match his stubbornness. Had Cater complained further, tried to help, he might've been scolded, asked whether he thought Riddle couldn't handle it-- really, this was the better option.

As he collects everything into his bag, Riddle continues to glance from his bag up to Cater, his eyes narrowing after a few glances.

One of the books is left on the table, bag abandoned for long enough to allow Riddle to move close to Cater, staring up at him.

Lifting his hand up, he presses the back of it against Cater's forehead.

"How are you feeling?" Cloudy and cold, no matter if snow would fall a little later, wouldn't keep him this flushed this long... Was Cater alright?

Cater's skin is definitely too warm, though it hasn't reached a burning fever, yet. "Awww, worried about your solider? No problemo, Queenie! I'm a little tired, but it's nothin' ya boi can't handle."

Ah, but Riddle's hand felt so nice on his flushed skin. His eyes go half-lidded of their own accord, savoring the feeling.

"Ready to get going?"

.... He'd gotten Cater sick, hadn't he? The thought slips in quietly, overtaking any other. Riddle's hand stays put for a little too long on Cater's forehead, as he inspects the older teen.

"... Yes." Riddle nods, pulling his hand back. He turns away from Cater to finish putting the last book away. The heavy bag is pulled on, hanging over one of his shoulders. Tucking his pen away into his pocket, Riddle moves close to Cater again.

His hand doesn't grab at his sleeve, but instead slips around his waist. His hand itself rests on his hip.

"I'll make our lunch." Riddle decides, shifting to begin leading them out of the library. No, he wasn't going to say why he wrapped his arm around Cater like that, or why he was deciding he should make lunch for them. Good luck trying to figure it out, Caycay.

Cater has an idea what Riddle's thinking when he offers to make lunch, even if he's not sure why Riddle's holding onto him. Well, whatever. If it made Riddle happy, Cater decided he wasn't going to argue. He wasn't quite ready to believe that he was getting sick, too, but at least they were getting back to where they needed to be.

"Sure you feel up for cooking?"

Riddle was also still recovering, after all.

Could Cater really complain when Riddle was leading him out of the library? When he was accepting returning without much complaint? No, Riddle doesn't think so. Sure, he should be resting still. By no means was he all the way better, no matter how stubborn he wished to be... and yet.

"Are you doubting me, Cater?"

The tone he took was definitely one of his more usual ones, showcasing his light annoyance at the assumptions that were, at this point, absolutely true. He shouldn't force himself to work too hard, especially when they had a long walk back to their dorm. "I said I'll take care of it, so that is what I'm going to do." It's not a matter of 'feeling up to it' or not.

Reaching the large double doors, Riddle shifts to push them open for the two of them.

"Easy, Queen! If you say so, I believe you."

Whew, Riddle was definitely feeling spicy, now. Well, Cater didn't mind it so much--that feisty temper was part of his charm, too. He grins as they reach the library doors, only to let out an oof under his breath as the cold wave hits them.

"What's for lunch, then? Already cooking up ideas in your head?"

Shuffling closer, Riddle's hip presses against Cater's, pressing them as close as they could get with that arm around him. Was he trying to make it obvious that he was a little worried about Cater? No- absolutely not.

"I saw a recipe that I believe we have all the ingredients for. Something that should be good for the both of us, with plenty of nutrients, warm enough to make up for the time spent in the cold."

It really was cold, wasn't it? Riddle glances up towards Cater, "How do you feel about spinach in dishes?"

"I'm a good boy who eats his greens," Cater assures. It's not like vegetables are his favorite, but he'll take a plate of them over desserts any day of the week. He winks at Riddle, not making any comment about how closely Riddle's pressed them together.

"By the time the break's over, I'm going to be so spoiled."

It's a good thing it wasn't too long of a walk, because even he finds himself gravitating in toward Riddle to capture as much warmth as possible. His breathing is a little too hard from the exertion just from walking from one place to the next.

"Good. Then, I will proceed with the dish I found earlier." It would, hopefully, be something that Cater enjoyed. If not, they'd both at least have something substantial in their stomachs by the time they'd finished eating.

"I would not say spoiled," Riddle glances back out towards the path ahead of them, before looking back up towards Cater. He could feel the way he was breathing, the struggle he was having.

Gritting his teeth, Riddle can only hope that Cater can make it until they reach the dorm. He's not sure he'd be able to carry both Cater and his book bag. "More that you will be eating right. I won't have us subsisting off of junk food throughout our break."

"Yeah, but who else gets to say that they got fed by their beloved Housewarden so regularly?"

He wouldn't be surprised if everyone expected that Cater was cooking all their meals. In fact, Cater had kind of expected it, himself. This was much nicer. Sniffling, it's a relief when they're through the mirror that leads them back to Heartslabyul. By the time they're entering the dorm, even Cater has to admit he's feeling pretty rough.

"Do you mind if I go lie down while you cook?"

Could he really compete with that comment? To disprove it? The only other Housewarden who might ever spoil those under their purview was Kalim, and even he had Jamil cooking, not him.

He allows the topic to drop, instead focusing his attention on helping Cater through to the mirror, and back to their dorm.

"I don't mind. In fact, I insist." For once, Riddle drops his bag unceremoniously by the door, seeming to decide that his attention was much more useful to be on Cater and Cater alone. "Do you need assistance getting to bed? You could also lie down on one of the couches, if you need to rest sooner."

Cater hums, faltering as he tries to decide between the bed and the couch. "I got it, really," he promises, smile still as big as ever on his face as he starts toward the staircase that leads to the bedrooms. "You just worry about lunch. I'll be fine after I take a little reset."

Oh, how he'll be eating his words to go along with lunch.

Riddle does not believe Cater's words for one minute, even with that smile on his face. What can he do but allow Cater to go? He's laying down. That is the least that Riddle can ask of him. He watches Cater go, waiting until he disappears up the stairs before getting to work on lunch.

It was... a process. One that required more effort than Riddle is willing to admit. He was capable of reading a recipe and following it, sure. That wasn't difficult. The difficult part was making sure he did everything exactly correct, without ruining even one step.

Cooking takes as long as one might expect, with a few hiccups. He's sure the cleanup is going to be hell, after one glance at the mess he's made of the kitchen. That could wait until after he'd gotten food in them both. Riddle places two teacups upon a tray, having prepared tea for the two of them. Then are their two bowls of food, as well as utensils. A small plate with some orange slices is placed between the bowls. Hopefully this would do just fine...

Otherwise he'd have to figure something else out.

With this all finally ready, he makes his way up the stairs, to Cater's room. Struggling holding the tray in one hand, he takes the time to knock, though does as Cater had the other night, opening the door before he so much as gets a response.

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