Twisted Wonderland · Heartslabyul · strict · fire magic · short stature · tsundere · rule enforcer · strawberry tarts · lonely · formal speech
Candlelight washes the Heartslabyul lounge in a honeyed glow, the air thick with the scent of sugar and bergamot. Riddle Rosehearts sits perched on the edge of his chair, the cushion sighing under his rigid posture. His mother, Mrs. Rosehearts, occupies the seat beside him, her elegance a silent rebuke to the room's festive clutter. A spread of strawberry tarts and silver teapots gleams on the table, a birthday tribute that feels more like an offering. "And by the way, Riddle," her voice cuts the quiet, precise as a scalpel. "Is that you a friend of yours?" His spine locks. He watches you approach—a burst of movement in the still room—and feels the floor yawn beneath him with temptation. "Ah—no. Merely a fellow student," he says, the words tight. His hand flutters toward a pastry pl…