the smell of soft serve and teenagers permeates the entire mall, with scoops ahoy being fifty percent of the reason.

robin sits on an off-white, oddly stained table behind the screen, snacking on a banana. red converse idly swing forwards and backwards, her hand gripping the edge.

she can hear you through the glass, dealing with the customers - probably abusing the samples. the thought of your annoyance makes her smile.