Confronted with Maddison’s attitude, Robin was momentarily thrown for a loop. Though he did lead her toward the nearest shop where he knew they sold blood bags – would they even be black market anymore? – and led the way when purchasing the ‘food’, he didn’t say much else besides.
It was hard to be straightforward. This was a mistake that he had made, when he should have known better, and it was something he felt he shouldn’t stop apologising for. The guilt softened him, made him want to coddle Maddison somehow, as if a light-hearted nature might help her better than a stern one. Robin hadn’t known whether he had it in him to be stern, though he realised otherwise as soon as they landed in Maddison’s apartment. He could have complimented her on it, could have thanked her for inviting him. There were plenty of things he could have done, but instead of looking around and making himself at home like he might otherwise have done, he turned to Maddison, full height straightening his shoulders and a hardness at the edge of his eyes.
”I can apologise to you until the end of time, if that’s what you want. But that won’t change what’s happened. You can snap at me and be stroppy with me and complain about it or you can do your best to just get on with it, and listen to what I have to say without sarcastic retorts,” he said. Clearly, the small speech had been building up while they walked; her attitude, though not unfounded or unexpected, had riled Robin in a way he was rarely riled.
”Do you have a mirror?” he asked. It was a stupid question. She was a model, of course she would have a mirror. Any normal person would have a mirror.
”Go and look at yourself in it. If you can see yourself, I know what path you are. If you can’t, we’ll have to investigate some more,” he said, brow arched. If she could see herself, it meant she was an Allurist. Robin crossed his fingers, hoping that she could. It would mean she was the same as him, and their path would be a lot smoother.
It was hard to be straightforward. This was a mistake that he had made, when he should have known better, and it was something he felt he shouldn’t stop apologising for. The guilt softened him, made him want to coddle Maddison somehow, as if a light-hearted nature might help her better than a stern one. Robin hadn’t known whether he had it in him to be stern, though he realised otherwise as soon as they landed in Maddison’s apartment. He could have complimented her on it, could have thanked her for inviting him. There were plenty of things he could have done, but instead of looking around and making himself at home like he might otherwise have done, he turned to Maddison, full height straightening his shoulders and a hardness at the edge of his eyes.
”I can apologise to you until the end of time, if that’s what you want. But that won’t change what’s happened. You can snap at me and be stroppy with me and complain about it or you can do your best to just get on with it, and listen to what I have to say without sarcastic retorts,” he said. Clearly, the small speech had been building up while they walked; her attitude, though not unfounded or unexpected, had riled Robin in a way he was rarely riled.
”Do you have a mirror?” he asked. It was a stupid question. She was a model, of course she would have a mirror. Any normal person would have a mirror.
”Go and look at yourself in it. If you can see yourself, I know what path you are. If you can’t, we’ll have to investigate some more,” he said, brow arched. If she could see herself, it meant she was an Allurist. Robin crossed his fingers, hoping that she could. It would mean she was the same as him, and their path would be a lot smoother.
