There was a bakery he could go to nearby the Honeymead internet cafe, too - he had a habit of going there to buy whole cakes. There was that saying people like to spout. Something about having a cake and eating it too. Or something. Robin couldn’t quite remember, but he relished the thought that he did have a whole cake. And he could eat the whole thing and there’d be no consequence. He wouldn’t get fat. He wouldn’t get diabetes. His veins wouldn’t clog up and he wouldn’t die of a sugar overdose. It was a bit like heaven.
Even if he did find it quite odd that he hadn’t really liked sweet things before. Now, he couldn’t get enough of them.
He tried to keep the apartment clean, but he was a boy. Generally, most boys of his age and temperament were not so good at keeping things clean. Though, he was rarely there. Just when he woke up, and when he came back for the night, before morning. He’d met an interesting girl at the cafe; one who wore a mask that she never took off. She was strange, and refreshingly blunt. It was clear she was not quite right in the head, but that’s what made her good company. She was strange, but it was clear that she was intelligent. Robin had grown attached to her company.
Tonight, though, he found himself sprawled on the couch. There was a Star Trek marathon on TV; he’d had to sit through these episodes as a boy. It was the only thing his father had watched. He thought he hadn’t like it at the time, but now it was something that he missed.
The only light in the apartment was the flickering from the television. Aside from the sound of the show, there was, every now and again, the rustle of fingers in a bowl of very salty popcorn, and the inevitable crunch. Robin’s eyes were wide - would almost be square, if such a thing were true. Glued to the television like he was in a trance. Although he wore a hoodie, the hood pulled up over his head, he wore only boxers on his lower half, socks at the end of his lanky legs.
There was satisfaction, in doing absolutely nothing at all.