Sweet At First Glance | Twisted Wonderland X Reader

7: Noticed

"Ow...." You let out a small groan of pain, sitting up from where you landed.

Looking down in your lap, Grim was laying stunned on the mess of layers the bottom of your robes had become.

Other than how out of it he looked, he seemed ok.

Letting out a small sigh of relief, you shakily stood up, your shoulder throbbing from the impact. Hopefully you didn't break anything, you don't have your mother's spell books here so it won't be an easy fix if you have.

Cradling Grim in your arms, you position him so his head is able to rest comfortably against your breasts, while the collar pressed against the small gap in your arms and dug uncomfortably into your inframammary fold. Well, that's what your mother referred to it as the one time you questioned her what the area was called, but it's literally just the space that's right beneath your breast.

You know he'd snap out of his stunned state soon enough, but you still couldn't help but worry about how he might react.

A rhythmic sound of clicking starts up behind you, slowly growing louder as it gets closer.

You turn around to see Riddle come to a halt a few paces away from where you stand, a furrowed brow and frown evident on his face.

"Is this your familiar?" He questions, gesturing towards Grim who still remains curled up against your chest. You could feel something slightly wet through the layers of your robes, so it was probably tears from his magic being revoked unless he had a wet nose, since some animals do.

You don't answer his question, biting you lip and turning your head away from him. Crowley had asked that question earlier and it wasn't true, but Grim might get hurt if you said he wasn't.

Why is this so hard to decide what to do??

At your silence, Riddle crosses his arms, his eyes narrowing at you. "If this is your familiar than you'd best hope you aren't in Heartslabyul, as you've broken Rule 23 of the Law's Queen of Hearts: 'One shall never bring a cat to a festival.'"

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you looked back to him, blinking a couple of times to process what he'd said.

His eyes flicker over your face, seemingly trying to figure out if you were going to say anything.

"...So, I guess this isn't a dream." You turn your head towards the voice, distracted from what was happening with Riddle, of whom also turned to see who spoke.

It was the boy who'd been shoved into one of the benches...

"Magic..." He's quieter now, as one hand comes to cradle his elbow, the one he hit on the side of the bench. "I can't believe it really exists..."

Seems like he's having a bit of an existential crisis...a bit like the one you went through too...just...a little different in how it works...

You could almost sense how tense Riddle became from where he was stood, yet he was gone in almost an instead.

The rhythmic noise of shoes hitting the grounds starts up again, much quicker this time around.

Looks like you can figure out tell-tale signs of who's where from their walking patterns.

He stops straight in front of the not-robed boy, whipping out the gemmed stick from its holster once more. He shoves it straight in the boy's face, barely a hand's length away from touching his nose.

"How dare you insult me like you did!" Riddle stated, almost yelling from how much his voice spread throughout the whole room. "That is tantamount..." Riddle looked down his nose at him, since the boy was still seated on the ground.