WARNING+ REMINDER:
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Ophelias backstory and traumas come almost directly from my own, with a few minor details obviously exaggerated or changed for either others privacy or fitting her families dynamic since I wrote her to have 3 siblings, while I personally only have 1. This chapter starts going into some mental issues for her that I used to or still struggle with, so yea, fair warning.

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She blinked once, then twice.

𝑾𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒂𝒎 𝑰?

Sitting up, she began scanning the room to figure out just that. 

She was sitting at a polished dining room table, the room pristine, but void of any joy.  Some items lacked color, such as a wall phone, a potted plant, and most doors.

𝑾𝒂𝒊𝒕, 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒔 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒎𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔, 𝑰 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒈𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒂𝒏 𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈.

The clack of heels came from one side of the house, in sync with the pitter-patter of small feet.

From around the corner, a tiny Riddle made this way in, holding a large book close as the owner of the heels revealed herself. 

She looked more plastic then human, really.

"Happy 8th Birthday Riddle. This years cake is a gluten free recipe with nuts, made with purified soy flour to improve your cerebral function."

Ophelia grimaced on Mini Riddles behalf.

𝑫𝒖𝒅𝒆, 𝑯𝒆'𝒔 𝒆𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕, 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒆𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒚𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒈𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒔 𝒂 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒕 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕?

"Thank you, Mother, but...."

Shuffling his feet, looking towards the ground, the little boy spoke again, almost in a whisper.

"As it is my birthday, May I have one of those tarts?  The beautiful ones, with the shining red strawberries?"

"Absolutely not! What possessed you to ask for such a thing?  Your practically asking me to feed you poison!"

Eyeing the door, she wondered how fast she could find a knife in this house.

The boy looked completely crushed, no longer shuffling his feet, but solemnly hanging his head.

"But...Mother.."

"No Buts!! Mother knows best!"

"Yes, Mother.."

Slipping down the corridor, the brunette managed to find a sharp knife, and tip toed back into the room.

"—As you are now eight, your calorie intake will increase to 600 a day, understood."

She froze for a moment, almost horrified.

𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒆 𝒂𝒎𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒅 𝒈𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒏 𝒊𝒏𝒇𝒂𝒏𝒕, 𝒂 𝒌𝒊𝒅 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒂𝒈𝒆 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒃𝒆 𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 1,650 𝒂 𝒅𝒂𝒚, 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒎𝒖𝒎

𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒎𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒆𝒓 𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒇𝒆𝒅 𝒉𝒊𝒎, 𝒑𝒖𝒓𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒆𝒇𝒖𝒍𝒍𝒚.

𝑰'𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒔𝒖𝒓𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒌𝒊𝒅 𝒄𝒂𝒏'𝒕 𝒔𝒆𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒔 𝒂 𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒊𝒏𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒉𝒊𝒎, 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒆'𝒔 𝒕𝒐𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒎𝒐𝒍𝒅𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒊𝒔.

Sneaking up behind her, Ophelia stabbed her shadow with a vigor several times, even though she knew it was obviously to no avail, considering this was some wacky trauma mindscape, it did help get her anger out.

Placing it back on the counter, she wandered off into a different corridor, opening the first door she saw.

An odd surprise awaited her there.

Riddle, the current one, stood solemnly over a writing desk, small tears welting in his eyes as his grazed his hand over small, hidden papers, decorated with little doodles.

Upon hearing the door open,. he turned, teary eyes in full view. She expected some form of a louder reaction from him, but nothing came.

𝑴𝒂𝒚𝒃𝒆 𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌𝒔 𝑰'𝒎.... 𝑵𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒅, 𝒊'𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒖𝒍𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒚𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕.

𝑾𝒂𝒊𝒕...𝑰𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒔 𝒂 𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒚, 𝑯𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒏'𝒕 𝒉𝒖𝒓𝒕 𝒎𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆....𝑨𝒍𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕, 𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒑𝒊𝒔𝒕 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆.

She leaned awkwardly against the doorframe, trying to not seem hostile.

"Funny meeting you here.....um...nice house?"

Riddle rapidly turned back on his heel, immediately facing away from her.

"You are not supposed to be here, Avillion."

"Kinda got that impression when I woke up in a house I didn't recognize."

"Thats not what I meant, and I believe you are fully aware of that."

"I am, infact, not aware of that."

The scoff he let out didn't hide the crack in his voice.

"You best have a good reason for such a breach of privacy."

"About that...I have zero clue how I got here in the first place...so..."

Whipping around to look at her, his eyes widened  as he immediately began to step towards her, and she sheepishly tried to slide further away from him.

"How in the blazes did you manage to worm yourself into my subconscious unknowingly? Whilst in a coma nonetheless?!"

"Whilst in a WHAT?!"

The creak of a door alerted them both, the younger version of the redhead standing before her waddled in, placing a thick book onto the writing desk.

Peeking over his shoulder, she tried to read what it was he was studying, only to find she once again couldn't read the text.

Riddle yanked her backwards, leaving them both standing to the side of the little boy.

"What was that for?"

"I could ask you the same! What purpose do you have snooping at his work?" 

"I just got curious to see what little you'd choose for "Independent study".  How did you read a book with no pictures or words?  Little me would of died of boredom."

"There are certainly words in there, I'll have you know."

His face softened a bit, eyes moving to look at anything that wasn't her or Tiny him.

"......This was my normal day to day, that book used to be my very favorite."

"What was it about?"

"Psychology...specifically the familial and biological studies of animals."

"As in how baby foxes are protected in the den by one parent while the other hunts, or how hamsters eat their kids sometimes?"

Before he could answer, the window flew open, a curious young Riddle peeking his head out to find   a different one floating above him.

"See, Trey! I toldya he was real!"

The small redhead eye's brimmed with curiosity as he stared in awe at the boys head.

"Who—Who are you?"

Admittedly, seeing a real floating childs head was not something she ever expected to see, but she watched as the familiar plumette grinned gleefully.

"I'm Artemiy, but you can just call me Che'nya! The one down there is Trey!"

From far off, the younger version of the vice's voice could be heard.

"Hi! Its nice to meet you! We were wondering if you wanted to play with us?"

"I can't...Mother says it's independent study time.."

"Well, my Gramps says playtime is also a form of studytime! Here, catch!"

The next thing she saw was a hedgehog sailing through the window, landing in a ball on mini-Riddles hand.

"Che'nya! Didn't your Gramps say something about not using magic to make living things?"

"Why not? Its easy-peasy!"

"Not for everyone, remember?  Making a living, breathing, animal out of thin air isn't something anyone should be able to just...do."

The older version beside her looked at his younger self, who was staring at the tiny being in his hand with awe, practically glowing. His tone a mix of pity and nostalgia.

"My first Hedgehog....even if it wasn't created by natural means, it was the very first I ever held."

Little Che'nya flew closer in, poking Mini Riddles cheek happily.

"Whatcha gonna name it?"

"Um-"

"Um it is!"

"Wait! Thats not what I-"

Snatching the hedgehog and floating out of reach, the Cheshire held it up carefully.

"You gotta come down here if you wanna play with Um!  I'll float you down, don't worry!"

"Che'nya, don't bait him like that."

Tiny Riddle bit his lip, then closed the tome he was reading and stood up.

"As long as I'm back within the hour, I think it will be fine!"

Shakily, the Tiny rose, using the desk as a lifter, slid out of the window, and out of sight.

His older counterpart gazed, misty eyed as he slightly spoke to himself.

"I really didn't know how much I'd regret that, such a small decision that ruined..everything."

Something inside her felt pained at seeing his expression. The guilt he shouldn't hold. 

It wasn't his fault he was unironically the son of a bitch, and it wasn't his fault that the bitch in question was a horrid mother, and it was nowhere near his fault he desired just a bit of freedom and fun at that age.

𝑻𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒂 𝒃𝒂𝒅 𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒂

Grabbing Riddles wrist, she jumped onto the window sill, dragging him along as he protested.

"What do you think you're doing? Explain yourself this instant!"

"Take this as revenge, or compensation for trying to and possibly killing me.  You know how we debated over rules?"

Lifting him up to the window sill, unsurprisingly easily, she gave him a grin.

"Well, we're in a dream—mindscape—whatever, right?  That means nothing can technically hurt us, and we have no repercussions.
So we're gonna spend some time doing whatever, Rule abiding or not!  We can take turns, but I'll go first."

Realizing what it was she was about to do, Riddle shrieked as she braced herself.

"THIS IS THE SECOND FLOOR!!! DON'T YOU DARE—"

With that, she jumped out the window, pulling him along.

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In the span of a moment, she felt something soft break the fall, opening her eyes to see she was somewhere in a forest, lying in a field of daisy patches, the flowers themselves tall enough to reach her shoulders while sitting.

Riddle popped out from beside her, completely stunned.  His expression, doubled by the petals falling off his head, nearly had her cackling.

Unsurprisingly, the redhead was not amused

"Are you mad?  Jumping from a second story window without a second thought, and laughing about it? You could of killed us both!"

"I'm not laughing about the fall, I'm laughing about this whole situation!"

Crossing his arms, Riddles scowl deepened, the petals now beginning to fall off his head making had her in another fit of barely concealed giggles.

"So your making a mockery of me then?"

"You have to admit, seeing the guy who just tried to kill you ten minutes ago pop out of a mountain of daisies with petals stuck in his hair is pretty funny."

"I fail to see any humor in that at all!
Have you no self respect? Happily lying in a field of daisies with the man who could have been your murderer?  Were it me, I'd have his head immediately and demand he repent for his actions, at bare minimum!"

"Good thing its me then. Besides, your not the first person who's tried to kill me, but I will admit you probably got the closest out of all of them, and by all of them, I mean my former roommate back in my old boarding school.
It was located a barren wasteland inhabited by almost entirely mormons, a state known as Utah."

"And you didn't persecute him? Did not a single person demand punishment after such brutish behavior occurred on school grounds?"

"For 3 months, nobody did anything. The guy was a kiss-ass to the staff. Every time I told them I felt unsafe, it was "He's getting better!" and "Suck it up." . A freaking nightguard had to threaten to send security tapes of him trying to attack me to the police if they didn't move my room."

Riddle looked both flabbergasted and horrified, dropping bis hands from where he had made a slicing gesture before.

"Did not a single rule prohibit such blatant disregard for safety?"

"Nope. Hell, when I called the staff out on their bullshit, they'd pull out some rule that didn't exist, were completely stupid, or just existed to give them control, and call me the problem when I was protecting other people.
Took me two years to get myself kicked out. It was a freaking challenge too, since my parents wholeheartedly trusted them, no matter how many times my siblings and I begged them to pull me out of there."

The only thing she heard was the wind after that, and the moving of the daisies.

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What kind of a life did she lead back where she came from for such a thing to happen, and so casually spoken of?

The redhead was simply lost for words, wondering what other modern horrors she'd seen before arriving at Sage Island against her own will.

Wind lifted the brunette locks as she began weaving a crown of daisies whilst beginning to speak once more.

"I've always thought rules should be written in, hypothetical, blood.
Someone has to actually get hurt, or die, for it to become necessary.
So, when I first pla—uh, heard about the Heartstabyl rule thing from Ace, I got really pissed. I was mad that someone else was suffering the same way I had, and nobody else was doing anything about it. 

I hadn't even met you yet, and I hated your guts.
But when I found out why you did what you did, I...found it hard to blame you."

"What do you mean by that? How can you find it difficult to place blame on a person who tried to take your life?"

Threading the steams together, she sighed, and gazed down.

"Our life experiences, what we grew up with, they shape us, and our mentality, opinions, you get the gist. We grew up with similar experiences, but totally opposite reactions.

Both our freedoms were taken by nonsense rules, but we chose different paths.
You chose to trust in them, and I get why. Most people always say to trust in your parents, or in authority, that they do what they do because they care.
Its easy to think, to hope they know best, that what their doing is right, even if your heart tells you otherwise.
I mean, you're smart. You probably noticed at some point your mom purposely underfed you among other things, But you trusted her, right?

I chose to fight with them. Not sure why, mind you. I guess I really could never stand by when I knew something was wrong, and that nobody was going to do something about it. No matter how many times people tell me not to.

We both thought what we were doing was to help the people around us, so we clashed immediately.

I knew how to push your buttons, especially for reasons I can't tell you, and the law thing?
That was a secondary backup plan, my Royal Flush, if you will. I fucking knew what would happen too when I did it, I told myself it would be for emergencies.
But there I went, blowing everything to smithereens, and triggering the damn overblot early—oh fuck, ignore I said that. please, I'm begging you on that one.

Before you ask questions about it, Che'nya can explain everything better then I can, but I apologize. I wanted to make it easy on you when it happened, quick, nobody getting hurt, yada yada, but I fucked that up too.

So don't blame yourself about everything when we wake up, even if you don't remember this, ok? It was my fault for not having a safe fail prepared if I lost my temper.

Wow, I really monopolized the conversation.
It's supposed about your trauma lore right now, not mine. God, I got so excited to have a break, I pulled you out a window, then I end up rambling about my past and some corny shit.
So...um....oh fuck, just yell at me and get it over with."

Like that of a shirking violet, she curling up, arms tightly around her knees. No doubt she was obviously furious at nothing but her own actions and words, muttering "I said too much" and some vulgar insults towards herself.

Her personality was something of a dangerous mix between Al-Asim and the elder Shroud.

Understanding, observant and tuning with other's emotions easily, forgiving actions that harmed them, casually speaking of terrible incidents in their life as if it was a boat trip,

Additionally , she was intelligent, yet seemed to rarely apply herself, aswell as self deprecative, taking blame on herself for much more then she should, becoming meek, flighty and timid when anxious or frightened, All be it carefree, sarcastic and comedical when otherwise.
In short, her confidence completely depended on who was at her side.

Along with the previous discovery, tiny suspicions finally came to light for him.

Those he held upon taking notice of the fae charm at her side, the hedgehogs in his crown, the dreams of combat, her unpredictable arrival, the fact her homeland was not known by the mirror, now her mention of being aware of the overblot before it occurred, and finally the knowledge she had been working alongside Che'nya.

Grandfather Pinka once told them fairytales about it, about these things they call "Yuu's" , that hailed from other dimensions. Their fate is tied to a Cheshire, who assists them from the sidelines in their journey. Appearing only before calamity, some smaller or larger then others. Some a continent, the world itself, or just a single city.

She had known that whole time he was destined to overblot, yet had wished to wait for it naturally, for it to be quick and simple for him. For not a soul to be harmed.

Because of the fact she lost her temper, just as he had as well, she held herself responsible for his untimely overblot. For everyone he harmed. For the destruction he caused. For the lives he tried to take. For the near fatal injuries he gave them.

How DARE she think herself guilty for that.

She should be furious with him, asking he repent, demanding compensation, not worrying about how he was effected by all this, and certainly not telling him she was just fine with what he had done, and comforting him about it.

If it was true the charm was imbued with a share of Che'nyas magic, she could of simply whisked herself away when the overblotting began, or at anytime at all during his rampage.

Instead she stayed to rescue him, and in return, was nearly killed, practically mangled by the end.

Did she know of the way her near-lifeless body laid on the grass the last he'd seen her? Of how before he fell into the dream, he had heard she was a critical case, in the eyes of a retired Navy medical officer, nonetheless?

Well, he most definitively had a few choice words for her utter idiocy.

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𝑰𝒇 𝑰'𝒎 𝒐𝒏 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆 𝒔𝒖𝒑𝒑𝒐𝒓𝒕 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆, 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒖𝒏𝒑𝒍𝒖𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒎𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒆𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒍𝒆𝒕 𝒎𝒆 𝒅𝒊𝒆

𝑰 𝒂𝒍𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒔𝒍𝒊𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒅 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆, 𝑰 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒉𝒊𝒎 𝑰 𝒌𝒏𝒆𝒘 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒕. 𝑯𝒐𝒘 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌 𝒂𝒎 𝑰 𝒔𝒖𝒑𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒄𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒊𝒇 𝒉𝒆 𝒂𝒔𝒌𝒔 𝑪𝒉𝒆'𝒏𝒚𝒂 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝑰 𝒌𝒏𝒆𝒘? 𝑾𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒊𝒇 𝑪𝒉𝒆'𝒏𝒚𝒂 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆𝒔 𝒂 𝒓𝒊𝒅𝒅𝒍𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑹𝒊𝒅𝒅𝒍𝒆 𝒇𝒊𝒈𝒖𝒓𝒆𝒔 𝒊𝒕 𝒐𝒖𝒕??? 𝑾𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒅𝒐 𝑰 𝒔𝒂𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒏?

"𝑶𝒉 𝒚𝒆𝒂, 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒅𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅 𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒌𝒆𝒚 𝒌𝒊𝒅𝒏𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒅 𝒎𝒆 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒅𝒊𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒔𝒐 𝑰 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒔𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖, 𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒆𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒚 𝒕𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒆𝒙𝒂𝒄𝒕 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒕, 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒅𝒆𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒚 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒂 𝒗𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒐 𝒈𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒂 𝒈𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝒊'𝒗𝒆 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒅, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒅𝒐𝒓𝒎 𝒖𝒏𝒊𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒎 𝒊𝒔 𝑫𝑬𝑭𝑰𝑵𝑰𝑻𝑬𝑳𝒀 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒑𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒇𝒖𝒍 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒅 𝒊𝒏 𝒈𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒃𝒐𝒕𝒉 𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒔 𝒎𝒂𝒙𝒆𝒅 𝒐𝒖𝒕, 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕?

𝑰𝒎 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒅 𝒊𝒏 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒉𝒊𝒎, 𝒊𝒇 𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒔 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒆, 𝑰 𝒄𝒂𝒏'𝒕 𝒈𝒐 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒊𝒅𝒆. 𝑯𝒆 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒎𝒆.

Peeking over to Riddle from between her arms, his eyes had noticeably sharped, a growing scowl on his face.

𝑶𝒉 𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌𝒔 𝒑𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒅, 𝒐𝒉 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒕. 𝒐𝒉 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒕

Brushing off several petals, the redhead stood, waiting with arms crossed until she finally made eye contact with him.

"What kind of a fool are you?"

"The finest, imported straight from New York."

She winced a bit at her own response, as in no way was her sarcasm going to help her out right now.
Standing once again on shaky legs, Ophelia cleared her throat.

"Uh...why do you ask?"

From what she could tell, he was only getting madder. As he began shouting, she swore the threes were shaking.

"Why do I ask? WHY DO I ASK?! "

As he stepped closer, she tried to step back, stumbling over the occasional root as he yelled, at some points screaming a few of his words.

" You have the