#**ava

There were more boxes of cereal he’d ever had, pop tarts of varied flavors, and different types of bread just waiting to be picked. Whole-wheat, grain, he’d even splurged on bagels, as if to ensure she had the best buffet experience for any upcoming morning -- of however many mornings she would still spend in town. Keeping his nerves pretty evident on his face, he grabbed both mugs of coffee and sat down beside his daughter, blowing softly on the top of his drink. Hoping to make the moment last longer. “Did you sleep alright? You’re looking a bit pale. Which, I know is rich coming from me, but. Maybe I can tell better from personal experience.” What had happened at the ball had been... a tragedy, for sure, one he would’ve liked to have kept her out of. He was beginning to realize one could never be ready for anything when it came to their town, however. There was nothing to do but hope it hadn’t affected her in a deeper level.

“You don’t have to -,” the boy insisted, a beat too late before Robin was already paying their way for two bracelets, one of his father’s arms almost awkwardly placed around him to steer him further inside, into the livelier part of the fair. The booths caught both their attention, Robin’s head tilting in an inquisitive manner that his younger child could only mirror. “Hoops?” he suggested, the initial reserve gone, small smile on his own lips as he looked up, quickly choosing a prize they could both try to win.

Robin was just a tad bit slower than his son, of course, having had to pause to let a larger group go through, and only looked ahead to find himself staring at both his children in front of the booth, unable to hear or completely read either of their expressions. Ah. He should’ve probably texted Ava when he found Wren loitering outside his house, shouldn’t he?

I think my daughter is an adult, even if that happened whilst I wasn’t looking closely. @avaxfinch