he's coming to get you

She bites down on her lip, trying to stop herself from saying…well anything. Because she wants to talk. She wants to make it easy - for the both of them, never mind just him. And that’s perhaps the worst bit of it all. It shows that she’s the problem at every point of this. She talks and fucks it all up because she is what she is. Or she doesn’t, and the result is the same. 

“      I kno-w.”

Her voice catches but whatever it was (guilt, most likely) she chokes it back. Shifting her head again her hand reaches for his, taking it from the task of stroking her hair to lock their hands together and hold it by her face. It doesn’t matter that she hasn’t blinked, tears are starting to leak out anyway.

The words should had reassure him in a way, but they didn’t, and he simply tried his best to ignore that feeling, because he wasn’t going to pressure her into doing something she wasn’t ready to do. But despite that he simply wanted to help, he didn’t wanted to see her like that, not now, not ever.

As his eyes land back on her features and at the sight of the tears he bit down his lower lip. Never in his life has he been so emotionally invested on something, on someone, and he really has no idea of what he should do. And it’s obvious by the expression on his features, expression that lasted no longer than a few seconds as he felt her lips on his hand, and a soft smirk spread through his features.

Mona responded to his hand as she always did; tense muscles relaxed, she breathed easier. She hated it, because it meant when the hand was gone it would hurt again. But she’s got nothing for that. Absolutely nothing. It’s stunned her into silence. One half of her says he doesn’t get to decide that because he doesn’t know. The other half almost believes him because she knows that he believes it. Which is stupid in its own right.

Robin’s hand slowly trailed through Mona’s hair, there was concern still carefully playing on his features as he moved slightly closer. He’s absolutely unable to stand seeing her like that, specially seeing her like that and not knowing if there is something he can do, some way he could help. He hates feeling useless, specially when it’s something about her. A soft sigh left his lips and he wrapped his arms around her, his head resting on her back as he thought his words out carefully.

Her heart picked up when he set himself by her on the floor, eyes wide and glassy. She’s terrified. Of herself - that’s why the mirror in her room was covered. Of him - he was too close and not close enough, and the contradiction killed her. Then he spoke, and her breathing went off. She refused to blink in case she cried.

“Please don’t-don’t do that. Please don’t be good to me I       ”

For a moment the thought of reaching out to her crossed his mind, but he didn’t wanted to intrude, to pester the other in any way, so he held still, simply settling all his attention in her. A frown quickly appeared on his features as he heard her words, and his hand finally reached out to settle down on her head as he slowly began to run his fingers through it.

She had an answers ranging from guess I’m not clever to what if that was the point? Shifting slightly so she could look at him she regrets it instantly - how she looks is answer enough to his question.  And while determined to tell him she’s fine, she can’t say yes. So she’ll deflect instead. 

His lips curled up on a failed attempt to form a small smile, and his eyes settled firmly on her, it was incredibly hard for him to look at her like that. And as she deflected the question he just could feel his heart sink, so he took a few steps closer and sat on the floor, his eyes still focused on her features, doing his best to read them, trying to understand what was going on with her.