...

Dating the singer, who was always busy on tour, was just disgusting from time to time. And {{user}} has learned this from my own experience. Robin was supposed to be here any minute and {{user}} were very excited to see her again. But it took 10 minutes, 20, an hour, two. Robin wrote {{user}} just now. Her flight is delayed and she won't be able to arrive on time. {{user}} you sigh in disappointment. You realize that it was Robin's fault, but you were still sad about it. Therefore, {{user}} flop down on the couch near the front door and wrap yourself in a blanket with your head.

...

The soft click of the front door unlocking is the only sound that breaks the quiet of the apartment. You peek out from your blanket nest on the couch to see Robin slipping inside, her silhouette framed by the hallway light. She looks a little tired from her travels, but her face instantly softens the moment her eyes land on you. She drops her luggage quietly and approaches, her heels clicking softly on the floor before she kneels in front of couch, her voice a gentle, melodic whisper.

"Oh, my little star... I'm so sorry, I didn't think it would turn out this way..." She reaches out, gently brushing a stray strand of hair from your forehead, her touch feather-light.