Riley grinned like a fool as he ran toward Dorian, pausing when he had finally reached the much taller man. He lifted a hand in a wave, “Glad you made it! How’s it going? You gonna swim?” The rapid fire questions ceased and a tint of red flooded into Riley’s cheeks. He was rarely sorry about anything he did mostly because he couldn’t help it.
His dark curls were pulled up an cinched with a hair tie though the mop was no less unruly and still very much in his light eyes. Most of the day he’d spent helping Tess at one of the booths, handing out cold drinks, and some of the time was spent at the music stage watching Finn and the small group there playing their instruments. He was elated to see that Dorian had come out, though, figuring that these types of events probably weren’t his bread and butter.