#cha.sunday

You: no waaaaaayyyyy You: where’s the /j?? birdie i swear lmao You: you’re kidding right You: or are you actually being serious?? wait wait ok You: ok if you’re serious. ily girl and no offense but like. send me a picture of you and a note with my username on it or smth? cuz im sure you can imagine it’s kinda hard to believe you’re THAT Robin

And she does! She sends you multiple pictures in fact, in multiple poses, to reassure you that the images aren’t A.I.-generated. When she apologises to you for hiding who she really is, she does it through a voice message, and you can hear one of the most envied voices in the galaxy speak just to you. It’s… Kind of overwhelming? But at the same time, it doesn’t change all that much.

She’s still your friend, who you’ve talked about to your struggles and gushed about your interests to, who always listens and always has a nice word to say. Who, if she has any faults, is always too hard to herself, never seeming to cut herself a break. Who always seems to be asleep at different times, and can disappear for days at a time. You thought she just had a horrifically wrecked sleep schedule, but this would explain that! Maybe it helps that, though you’re definitely familiar with Robin, you wouldn’t call yourself a fan or stan of hers.

When she confesses her feelings for you, it’s over the phone, a rare trembling enter his voice as she carefully considers her words.

“I’ve thought… A lot of times about how to put this. I still don’t really know how,” she says, laughing lightly. “I don’t want to lose what we have now. In my life, you’re one of the few people I can always turn to— Who I can show… Other sides of myself. I’ll just say it. It’s not really as romantic as the books we’ve read, but, I’ve fallen for you. Would you care to meet, sometime? And go on a date? I don’t want to pressure you, or feel like you have to do this. If you’re not interested, I still really, really would like to be your friend.”

There are a lot of conversations to be had when you begin to date Robin. It’s not going to be exactly easy. Not only do you need to be prepared to be put on blast on social media and feature in gossip articles, you’ll have to deal with the fact that she’ll be away on travel most of the time. Including to dangerous places, such as active warfronts.

This is something that, regardless of their love for you or anyone else, is integral to Robin’s life, and one thing she’ll never change. If that is something you cannot come to terms with and this reveals itself during your conversations, you’d be better off remaining friends. You can accompany Robin on certain travels, maybe even all of them, depending on the kind of person you are, but for a long while at least, Robin won’t settle anywhere permanently.

But if you manage to get through all of this, Robin is a wonderful girlfriend. She writes you letters and sends you gifts no matter where she goes, and makes time to call you at least once a day whenever she can. In interviews, she’ll bring you up as one of the people who give her strength, and her face lights up when she speaks of you. At events, she’d enjoy helping you dress up in whatever style you want, and constantly keeping your arms interlinked as you walk around.

While she isn’t all that touchy in public, she’d be clingy whenever it’s just the two of you. Making up for lost time together. Another thing she would enjoy is putting the both of you in increasingly elaborate disguises for public outings together! She has to make the fact she’s nearly always followed around by paparazzi fun somehow.

One of the largest ‘hurdles’ when dating Robin is, funnily enough, meeting her older brother Sunday. She speaks of him with nothing but affection and the occasional tinge of worry (though, when you tell her that she has the exact same kind of habits towards overworking herself, it’s suddenly not so bad after all).

Robin herself seems to have no fears that you won’t meet her brother’s standards, but you have your doubts, really. If your glances over the letters he’s written her are anything to go by, he loves Robin just as much as she loves him, if not even more so. While his approval is important to her, you’re certain that she would never break up with you over it, or anything of the sort. Still… You can’t help but feeling nervous.

Your worries aren’t unfounded. Over a dinner in Penacony’s Dreamscape, Sunday seems to scrutinise you, gaze boring into your forehead. All the time, there is nothing but a gentle smile on his face. Yet, you’ve never felt to be under such a strong spotlight, not even at events accompanied by Robin, walking across massive stages. Your head hurts, but you’re guessing it’s just from the general stress that you’re feeling.

As Robin laughs about the type of meal manifested on her brother’s plate (“An Alfalfa Salad for yourself? I really thought you would’ve gone for something sweeter, brother!”), you shift on your seat in discomfort and attempt to keep small talk conversations going.

Perhaps it’s your mind being tricks on you, perhaps you are ‘spiraling in on yourself’, as Robin sometimes calls it, but you really do believe that this man does not like you whatsoever. When you can’t take it anymore, you move your chair. Its loud scraping breaks up any conversation.

The smile on your face is wobbly. “I’m just going to go to the bathroom for a second. Excuse me.”

Robin puts her hand on your arm. “I can show you where it is? The mansion’s layout can be a bit confusing at times, even though I’ve been here plenty of times myself.”

Sunday, across the table, shakes his head and gets up. “Please stay seated, sister. As the host, it is my duty to guide your… Partner, to wherever they may need to go. Allow me to guide you.”

Somehow, your attempted escape has become a new trap in and of itself. It’s practically impossible to deny to go with him now, though, so you straighten your shoulders, nod, and follow Sunday further into his home. The clacking of his shoes on the marble floor is the only noise keeping you two company as you walk a step behind him. He stops. There is no bathroom, here. Only a giant paint of Robin situated on the wall. She’s smiling. Sunday turns half a circle around and stares at it, hands folded together behind his back.

“You…” he speaks slowly. “Do you think you can make her happy?”

Your head throbs. Your head hangs a little to the side, as you stare at the painting. “I think… When I met Robin, she was already happy. In a sense. She has a purpose. A goal she’ll always keep striving for— No matter what. Chasing that, I think it makes her feel more fulfilled than many people… Like me.”

You slowly shake your head. “So, no, I don’t think just myself could make her happy. But as things are now, she is. I do add something to her life, but… I don’t think the rest could be taken away.”

You stare at Sunday. If there is a thought that hits you now, in the painfully placid nature of his expression, in the manner he has watched you all evening, it is not merely protectiveness that fuels him. In part, it is jealousy, too.

You sway a little on your feet.

“You act as if Robin does not care for you,” you smile wistfully, turning to the painting in turn. “You don’t know how she talks about you, if you aren’t around. I think about it, sometimes. If you and I… Were hanging off of a precipice, and she could only save one of us— I can’t say for certain who she would pick. But if I’m honest with myself, as much as it would pain her, and how much it hurts me to think, I really do believe she would save you.”

You squeeze your eyes shut as the corners of your vision turn blurry. “I— I don’t know why I’m saying any of this.” You press your hand to the side of your head, and drag it down your cheek. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I’m feeling very well.”

“Is that really the truth?” Sunday asks.

“To me it is, I guess.” You mumble. “If you asked Robin, she would answer… That she would find a way to save both of us. No matter the cost. Because that is the kind of person she is. But I can’t seem to think that would be a reality.”

Sunday hums, then turns around you. When he nods, your nausea dissipates, you straighten your back, and whatever stupor you had found yourself in leaves your mind. All at once, shame crashes into you. What the hell have you been babbling on and on about for the past five minutes? When he looks at you now, his gaze is not quite as oppressive as before, though you are not entirely sure how to feel about him.

He lowers his head a tad, ears fluttering. “Thank you for allowing me to understand you better,” Sunday tells you. “You are a different type of person than I imagined you to be— Perhaps you and I are more similar than I believed. Due to my personal feelings, it seems I led my thoughts stray into disharmony. Will you forgive me?” Though the ice has left his tone, it is now as if he has shaved off every edge, covering it all in fabric. It is almost condescending.

But you, honestly, still kind of need to piss. And you’re over all of this, really. “I— Yeah. Yeah, sure. Spirit of harmony, and all that.”