( ... it had been a cute face for him to make, really. it makes her think he's a little younger after all, reframing the suit on him, and the habits he has are suddenly clumsier.

funny, really. when she laughs, light, airy, it isn't so much for his joke, for the fact that he's playing around and trying to dissolve the strange tension still lingering after one misunderstanding. she thinks, she'd have an easier time of it if she were frightening — maybe they could skip over all of the awkward parts and treat it indelicately the way that everyone else seems to do so naturally, in the way that a monster might, more animal than the niceties of what she thinks should be done. )

Well, let me see if I can help with some of that.

( a tutting sound, still sweet, still a melody, clear even as he cradles some spot low along her back, over the corset piece of her dress and not quite skin-to-skin. he guides her along in the crowd, and she has to lean into him to be heard, and it must be her hair or a feather that brushes his cheek long before her voice drifts warm after it, grazing the curve of his ear like a second thought. )

My name is Robin... I want to help you because I want to, and really... if you're frightened, you don't actually have to touch me at all.

( ...? maybe that requires some clarification. later. somewhere where it wouldn't be so hard to hear her, and even then, the smile in her tone's obvious even in the lush sound of the casino crowd. )

... is that too cold of an impression to be an angel?