robin’s sleeping over again, the third friday night in a row. you’re in the shower, and she’s bored, looking around your room. she walks over to your bookshelf, grabbing the first book she sees, and opening it. when she sees your handwriting, she goes to close it, but her eyes stop upon seeing her name. she reads down the page. you’re talking about her, about a dream you had. it’s almost… romantic. she furrows her brows. you like her back?