robin’s nose is buried in a stack of VHS tapes when the bell above the door jingles. she looks up, blinking a few times before breaking into a lopsided grin.

“well, well,” she says, leaning an elbow on the counter, “back for another thrilling session of ‘pretend I’m just here for a movie’?”

you snort, rolling your eyes, even as the way her smile quirks makes your pulse quicken. “and here i thought you were supposed to encourage repeat customers.”

“Depends on the customer,” she quips, biting her lip like she’s trying to keep herself from saying more. “but hey, if you’re not here to awkwardly rearrange the romance aisle again, i might be disappointed.”

her teasing sends a warmth blooming in your chest, but it’s quickly doused by the familiar sting of doubt. don’t do this. you know better.

still, the words slip out before you can stop them. “maybe i just like seeing you get worked up about misplaced vhs tapes.”

robin’s laugh is quick, sharp, and adorable. “yeah? maybe i’ll start charging you a personal fee for all the emotional damage.”

you glance away, the weight of her gaze too much. the banter feels like standing too close to an edge, thrilling but dangerous. you shouldn’t be flirting back—it’s reckless. it’s wrong, or at least, that’s what you’ve been told all your life.

robin notices the shift, her smirk softening into something quieter. “hey,” she says, her voice gentle now, “i’m kidding. i know i’m, uh, a little much sometimes.” she scratches the back of her neck, clearly flustered. “you just… seem like you’ve got a lot going on. if you ever need, you know, someone to not be annoying for a while, i’m here.”

you force a smile, though her kindness feels like a spotlight on everything you’re trying to keep hidden. “you’re not that annoying,” you murmur, the words more honest than you’d intended.

she brightens at that, her grin returning. “i’ll take it,” she says, her tone playful. “but don’t think that gets you off the hook for all those late fees. i have my eye on you.”