( all of these emotions that she catalogues in her mind for later, and nothing that she dares to tune into a harmonious calm when it's at odds with what might be fitting at this exact moment. all of his wildly firing synapses and robin can still feel it under everything else: the hurt, real and deep, but worse is some kind of distrust in himself that she can't fully understand... and only recognizes in someone dear to her heart.
a chain of command. someone's marching orders. flickers of memoria that his feelings carry like a film reel that she doesn't have nearly enough time to watch or decipher. it just helps her somewhat. there is no real malice to his fiercely guarded looks. just a sharpened focus trained on the possibility of survival and —
what... kindness, maybe. when he doesn't push the subject any more than robin doesn't invade his thoughts. there's no longer the halo effect of light refracting through jagged glass; just the dimmed lights of the bar, the gilded sheen of a grand casino yonder, and the space still left between them. )
Oh. No, you didn't, I —
( oh.
and the couple that is definitely still fucking on top of the bar. which is somehow not nearly as funny as the bright pink prop comedy that aki is still cradling in one hand like a blade as he steps away.
she should be more acutely aware of how strange it is, or how he's giving her an easy out, to take the space and run, but alas. )
... I see. ( she follows at his heels, taking an easy step with his stride, no longer afraid for all that the color is only just returning to her face now, her wings curling out like a bird about to take flight. ) I've never been called a Devil before.
( simply, with lilting honesty. possibly to lighten the mood: )
no subject
a chain of command. someone's marching orders. flickers of memoria that his feelings carry like a film reel that she doesn't have nearly enough time to watch or decipher. it just helps her somewhat. there is no real malice to his fiercely guarded looks. just a sharpened focus trained on the possibility of survival and —
what... kindness, maybe. when he doesn't push the subject any more than robin doesn't invade his thoughts. there's no longer the halo effect of light refracting through jagged glass; just the dimmed lights of the bar, the gilded sheen of a grand casino yonder, and the space still left between them. )
Oh. No, you didn't, I —
( oh.
and the couple that is definitely still fucking on top of the bar. which is somehow not nearly as funny as the bright pink prop comedy that aki is still cradling in one hand like a blade as he steps away.
she should be more acutely aware of how strange it is, or how he's giving her an easy out, to take the space and run, but alas. )
... I see. ( she follows at his heels, taking an easy step with his stride, no longer afraid for all that the color is only just returning to her face now, her wings curling out like a bird about to take flight. ) I've never been called a Devil before.
( simply, with lilting honesty. possibly to lighten the mood: )
Am I very frightening?