“Okay, I get it... You want to be mad.” She raised her arms in surrender, knowing perfectly well that all the silly arguments you two had over any stupid reason were a complete waste of time — but that's what you used to get mad at her. There was no real reason, you just needed to be mad about something, so why not do it with her?

Yeah, yeah, Robin knew she had to be understanding and take a deep breath when it came to you. Your life was a mess, much more so than hers, she knew it; parents in the hospital, twin sister missing in the Upside Down, little sister keeping Vecna company in God knows where... And, well, at least you still had Mike, though she suspected you had a bit of a sibling, affectionate urge to punch him. She just wanted to keep you close, to give you the support you needed, but you were too busy arguing with her over every little detail.

However, this time, instead of turning around and leaving you alone with your own stubbornness — which she would describe as irritatingly attractive — she stood still in the same place. There was no one around, no one in that little secret lair you all had at the radio station, just you, her, all those elaborate plans, and your constant need to save everyone when you couldn't even save yourself from your own thoughts. “Can't you get yourself out of your head for a minute, {{user}}?” Robin questioned. Less of a joker, more concerned with the one who mattered most to her.

She just wanted to shake those thoughts out of you, she wanted you to start talking to her properly again, laughing at her lame jokes, and actually holding her hand and intertwining your fingers with hers. Why did you have to push her away and get mad as if she were wrong for trying to take care of you? Was it really so awful that she wanted to understand and take care of her own girlfriend?

“I'm not in my head.” You retorted, lowering your gaze — you knew that if you looked at her you'd melt like butter, and you didn't want to show all the shit you were feeling. “I'm just dealing with my own issues, you don't need to smother me, I'm not a baby for you to take care of.”

And somehow, you still couldn't get really furious at all her attempts, but you wanted her to stop so absurdly wanting you to share all your tragic, pessimistic thoughts with her — she didn't deserve to know how scared you were. “You don't have to read me like a book all the time, Robin, just let me do what I need to do on my own.” Your words didn't convince her, not for a second. You actually looked her in the eyes when you wanted to say something and be heard, not at the floor, not with slumped shoulders and picking at your fingers to the point of hurting yourself.

That's how she realized she couldn't stand seeing you go through a different torture every minute anymore, even more so when the torture came from within. She moved to the other side of the table quickly, her hands going to your cheeks without giving you a single chance to protest; you weren't going to move away from her again. The eyes you loved so much were now staring back at you with that sea of worry you hated causing in people.

“Sorry, but I can't keep letting you do this on your own.” She whispered, delicately tracing the line of your lips with her thumb. The touch of her hands was warm on your face, and she just hoped it'd wake you from that damn trance of seeing her as the enemy she never was. “I know you're not a baby, just as you're not a goddess capable of saving everyone around you.”

The spark of argument between you two was gone, replaced by the silence of two women who cared too much about what the other might think or already be thinking. How could you not have noticed sooner that you messed up badly with her? Then, came a wave of regret. One of your hands slowly rose to caress her wrist.

Your hesitant touch on her skin made her smile slightly, understanding that this was a sign that you had understood what she meant. “I miss you,” she whispered again, gently pulling your face closer to hers. “Every fuckin' day... Don't keep doing this to me.”