#because his pov for other fic is very much my sweet darling gf who can do no wrong :)

[k-dokja]

Pretty.

— Reader is a wee bit strange, Riddle has a teensy attachment issue. Female reader, has been with Riddle since their younger days. Also written like a tangent I haven’t reread the thing don’t make me

Riddle is pretty.

You remember thinking that one morning when you sit next to him in class. You can’t focus because last night you’ve been staying up late to study and now you can’t perceive anything but the formulas and how pretty Riddle is.

His eyes sharpen with focus while he scribes down on his notes. He always has such pretty handwriting, you love to have him writing letters for you because you can preserve them forever. Riddle always grumbles but he always does as you ask.

Pretty Riddle with his stray stands of hair falling down and obscuring his vision. You reach up to push them out before he can. He looks at you in surprise, not expecting you to act this fast. Then his cheeks redden, noticing your undivided attention. He hisses, “Focus on class, I’m not helping you later if you forgot the materials.”

He returns to his work after that, pointedly ignoring you. Silly Riddle, you wouldn’t ask him to break a rule for you. It would break his heart along with every other breakable thing within his distance. You wouldn’t want him to get unnecessary grievance, not when the pressure is on his shoulder as is.

You want your Riddle to stay pretty. He’s always prettier when he’s happy.

Riddle is pretty, even with his nose and eyes red.

Bundled up in autumn clothes, he looks ready for a new school year already. But he isn’t the one leaving, you are. Your parents have been mindful enough to stay back while you say your goodbyes with Riddle. It warms your heart to have such caring people around you, even if all you can see now is Riddle.

“You better call often,” he says, adjusting your scarf for what would be the sixth time, “I’ll try to visit when I can, but if I—“

“I’ll miss you.”

His eyes widen and you think he looks prettiest then. With his cheeks crimson and his eyes glassy again, he looks away from you, trying to hold back his emotions. Before you can say anything else, he hugs you close. The force of his skinny arms are strong, stronger than anyone would expect. Except for you, because you know. You have hugged Riddle many times. Never did he do it with this ferocity, but you know it is only the intensity of his feeling.

You hug him back, relishing in the feeling of him in your arms. Your pretty Riddle with his pretty scent, you won’t have neither for a while.

“I’ll miss you, too,” he chokes out.

“I’ll think of you often,” you rub soothing circles on his back and he hugs you tighter.

“And I you.”

He pulls back after a moment then looks at you. You wonder if he’s trying to commit your face to his memories and if he worries that the pictures in his phone won’t suffice. Riddle kisses your hair, softer now after the previous outburst. Maybe he worries your parents would have judgement, but that thought is thrown out when he kisses you again.

Hard and bruising, but quick enough to not draw the looks of strangers. His lips part in shock when he retreats, not expecting himself to have pulled that stunt. “My apologies, I…”

You kiss him, on the cheek this time, even if your lips crave for his again. “Let’s meet again, soon,” you silence out any of his thoughts about regret then step away from him.

Silly Riddle, he doesn’t know how pretty he is when he looks like that. He shouldn’t let shame overwhelm him. His memories of you should only be happy, you won’t have it otherwise.

Riddle is pretty, beaming at you from across the yard and brightening when he sees you.

He has promised to visit. He always keeps his promises. Your college is not that far from his and if anything, teleportation is always an option. Never mind the specifics, all that matters is that Riddle is here and he’s happy. Happier when you tackles him with a hug, he accepts you like you’re always meant to be there in his arms.

“Riddle!”

“Hi,” he says, nose buried into the crook of your next, “it’s nice to be with you again.”

“It’s nice for me too,” you cling to him and he shows no opposition to your actions.

Pretty Riddle. Hair nice and soft, he smells prettier than he has been before. You’ve missed him, even with the calls and texts. Nothing can ever replace having him with you. “You should quit Night Raven College and be here with me.”

He laughs. He doesn’t know because you smile when you proposed the idea, but you always meant it. Meant every word when you said you want to be with him forever, meant every feeling when you professed to him.

Maybe he does and he doesn’t mind. Why else would he keep you for this long?

Riddle rarely lets go of your hand for the duration of his stay. You like the proximity, but worry that he’s afraid you might vanish if he lets you go for too long. Silly Riddle, there is no one else you’d want to be with other than him. You never want to worry him and you never stay away for long enough to make him frown.

Pretty as he is then, he’s prettier when he’s happy. You always want your Riddle the best he can be.

Riddle is pretty, on his knee and staring up at you.

You can see it in his eyes, everything you wanted from Riddle and more. Riddle would do anything for you, anything and everything. All you have to do is say yes.

The ring shines a pretty ruby red, pretty like his hair but hard where it is soft. You don’t remember what you said in answer, but Riddle has never been prettier before. When he slides the ring on your finger, all you can see is him. His mouth is moving but you can’t hear the words, you feel him holding you but you can’t sense the warmth.

All that echoes in your head is that you’ll be his, fully and completely. When people speak of you, they’ll call you with his name. Where he ends will be where you begin and it is all and everything that you want from him. Even if he doesn’t promise you a wedding, you’d want your pretty Riddle.

As long as he’s yours and happy, you care for little else. But Riddle is a stickler for rules and traditions. He’d want the wedding, the cake, the dance, and the party. Preparations take long days and long hours before anything is set in stone. You’re impatient, you want to be Riddle’s.

But you won’t voice those thoughts because he looks so happy to prepare. When he smiles at you, nought else seems to matter. Long as the outcome is inevitable, you have no reason to complain.

After all, there is only one and final ending.

Riddle is pretty, pretty in white when the bells toll.

Pretty forever and pretty for you.