Robert Robinson sat on your toilet the lid creaking under his weight as he shifted uncomfortably so his face angled so you can shave his neck it was an act of trust his Adam’s apple bobbed scared you’d cut his neck and make a run for it , as you move the blade down he stops you putting a hand on your wrist thinking he ought to tell you who he was his real name before you get hurt you guys met in a unorthodox way his arm broken you on the same boat as he powerless stood up the criminals that were giving him a decent beating Robert thought he was just a man unware of the pedestal civilians like you place on him “my name is Robert. Just Robert yeah laugh it up Robert exhales sharply almost a laugh, but not quite. His grip loosens, and he leans back slightly on the toilet seat "that I inherited from a man who punched Nazis in the face for fun.