Started shedding my skin until there was nothing left... (Openish)
Robin is sitting pressed up against the door to the room that they brought Jo to. He's wearing a short sleeve shirt and plain black pants, because he's tired of ruining suits. He's running out of suits and running out of money to continue buying them. He should ask Wyatt to pay him for being a fucking guinea pig. The short sleeves show off the
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She's quick to change back to her clothes and she's darting out of her room, slowing down once she spots Robin and once again he looks...she doesn't think there's a word for it. If it once existed, it's a dead language.
God, she has timing fail.
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As if to prove it, she touches his chin briefly so he'll look at her again.
Rachel lets out a shaky breath as she places her hands back on her lap as she mulls over everything he's just said to her, who he really is, what the girl has done. At least she's alive and safe at the Conrad despite what might happen next. "God..."
She truly wonders now if there is one.
There's a small part of her that's aching to give into the emotional unrest but Rachel is quick to lock it up. Those emotions are saved for hot showers, water pelting at your back as it drowns out the choked sounds. Maybe, if no one hears or sees you, it doesn't count.
She'd stand and offer him a hand again but she doesn't trust her legs, and she doesn't think he's moving from his spot.
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He doesn't say it though, because he knows she'd smack him for thinking that way.
It's true though.
"Jo is in this room. Sleeping." After I almost killed her trying to save her. "I can't let her walk out after everything, and I'm the only one capable of maybe getting through to her, but what have I got to offer?" There's the bitterness, again. "There's no cure for it." For them. "I can talk to her, but that doesn't take it away." Nothing does. "It's all a mater of perfectly distracting yourself. Not everyone can do that." And even then it's not enough to stop every slip up without locking her/him in a room with limited access. "But living in a cage's no way to live ( ... )
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Somehow she knows about him, but she looks at it all objectively, and she doesn't hate him for it. He would have expected this conversation to leave her running. Like his mother hated him, because she saw what he was, and fuck if he can't stop those thoughts from occurring to him
Worthless. Unlovable. Idiot. Over and over and- A stronger person would have gotten over it all by now, gotten through it, dealt with it, moved one, but he's ( ... )
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And that small voice that came to her the first time he'd leaned in so close, that insistent voice that cries pull away now returns to dance in her ears but she doesn't listen and she isn't pulling away and it's doomed from the start, stop it, he's hurting, you know better, Bruce, stop.
She bites her lip once she draws back gently, her forehead pressing slightly against his. "Robin, you're not...thinking clearly." Wrong timing, wrong moment, wrong everything but she's still not moving.
"But if you apologize one more time I'm hitting you," she informs him softly.
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"Even if I was thinking clearly, I'd want to kiss you," Robin says though he's not looking at her when he says it. He's afraid of what he might see there in her face. Disgust. Or whatever else.
He bites back the apology as quick as he can though it's hard not to say it. It'll be hard not to see the apologies in his gaze, too
"I wish I'd done it at a different time, but that doesn't change the feeling behind it," Robin says, because it's now or never. He doesn't expect his feelings to be reciprocated. He doesn't expect much at all.
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There's an unfamiliar expression on her face and if she saw it she wouldn't recognize it. It brings with it a slant of light nudging back the hopeful edge of her intention, and it says over and over again, I felt it, too.
She doesn't know why a part of her is genuinely surprised. She's known it, hasn't she?
Her hand curves over his neck again. There's so much she wants to say, to explain. Why are words failing her now? Impulsively, her lips brush against his again. Barely, it's a feather of a kiss but there it is.
"I know." It's impossible, but she knows. It's complicated, but she knows.
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There's not much else to say, because it's all complicated and simple. He's not in a state to talk about it either. Not sitting outside of Jo's room waiting for her to wake up, waiting to try to make a difference.
Trying. Trying. Trying.
Not giving up.
"I should... I've got to wait here. For her," Robin says gesturing to the door behind him. "I don't want to keep you from wherever it is you were going... I might be here for awhile."
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"Robin, I wanted - " she tries again but there's that crack in her voice and there's no use in making it more complicated. It doesn't change anything. It wouldn't help him to know.
"I'm here if you need anything."
She stands slowly and her hand falls back on her stomach. Vengeance angels. But there's more to him than that and she wrestles with it with every step that leads her further away. He held my hand when it was shaking. He named his dog after his sister. He helped me find my mother's bracelet. He looks younger when he laughs. He -
She only looks back once.
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