Amon watched her carefully from across the room. He wondered, once again, how it was possible. She moved so silently, so gracefully, as if she were but a shadow not to be seen or a ghost weaving through a crowd. He loved the way she moved.
She put great care into each movement. A tiny tilt of her head, and her eyes glancing up in his direction. Robin showed everything on her face, and although he hated the word, it was so damn cute to see her pause for a second of wonder before casting him a soft smile.
With all the skirts she used to wear, it was impossible now under one thin black dress not to notice the movement of her hips. A simple, nearly insignificantly tiny sway of the hips and he was hooked. He wanted his hands on them and pull her close, to feel her body warm against his. How could those small, barely developed curves drive him so crazy? But it did and it felt so right when he held her.
He had, only once, held her.
Robin had been scared and confused, she knew what he had done. She had known that he was the one trying to hunt her. She hadn't known that it killed him, she hadn't known how torn he felt until later. Amon had seen her running down the steps to do something, she probably didn't know yet and ran into him. From fatigue, injury, and confusion she passed out on site. Amon had caught her and in that instant knew. He pulled her close, and told her he was sorry. It was quick and quiet, even if the others had seen they wouldn't have thought anything of it.
He wanted to hold her again, to show her how things had changed.
How had he wanted to kiss her the night he sent her off to his brother! Robin had been so close, their foreheads almost touching, her lips trembling inches from his. Amon wanted to quench that fear. He held her face in his hands for a moment that felt like it would never end. Her eyes drowned in his, wondering if they would ever see each other again.
He wanted to show her that he would.
Robin found her way towards him. She paused for a moment as she turned around and scooped up her dress with her hands, to smooth it out as she sat to his right. He watched her long, delicate fingers as the folded together in her lap. Her dress lightly creased around her thighs. Her legs had growth powerful from working delivery runs for Nagira.
She knew he was looking at her face like he probably should be, but she was far too naïve to know what he was thinking.
"Amon?" He spoke his name as if it meant something more. He couldn't resist relishing in the sound of her breath catching the way it always did when she spoke it.
He didn't fail to notice her waist and chest as he moved his eyes to meet hers'.
Robin lowered her gaze to the small space between them, "What did you mean then?" She unhooked her left hand and let it slide down the side of her thigh before placing pressure on the bench seat. Her fingers spread and flattered out on the surface. "About watching over me?"
Amon watched her turn her hand left and right. She either did it because she was nervous or because she found it interesting in some sort of way. He wasn't sure what he meant, so he waited for her to clarify.
"I mean," she stopped spinning her hand, "what am I to you?"
He knew the moment she said it that she didn't mean it in that way. It was honest curiosity that drove her words as she looked back up into his eyes.
She wanted to know if they were teammates, or if she was just his ward, just another witch to be taken care of. But even her naïve and virgin mind knew that what she said meant more. They both knew that there was . . . Something there between them. What, they both were unsure. Robin ducked her head. "I…I meant-"
"You're Robin," Amon answered. And to me, Robin is…
After a moment of recognition flittered across her face, she smiled. It was a simple smile, one she kept contained, but nevertheless he knew how important those words were to her.
"And what am I to you?"
His words hung in the air, both surprised that he said them. Amon glanced away from her, it was obvious to the both of them that he didn't mean if they were teammates.
Amon cursed himself. What was he thinking? Robin was sixteen. He was twenty-three. He shouldn't think of her that way. He had to stop looking at her that way. So what if she had some school-girl's crush on him, he shouldn't fuel that.
The worst was that their situation forced them to live together. He wished that he didn't know she slept in the nude. It drove him crazy thinking about her in the other room. He felt ashamed every time her dreamt of her saying his name in the way that he loved over and over again from somewhere beneath him. What he hated the most was that she had those dreams too.
They spent day in and out playing house with one another only to have the reality of the façade hit every night.
He didn't want to have her suffer like that.
Amon opened his mouth, about to change the subject when she spoke.
"Amon." He turned to face her. Robin had her head bowed. Her hands made fists, clenching the fabric of her dress. She raised her head, revealing a brilliant blush, and smiled. "You're Amon."
He reached out, wrapped his arms around her, and pulled her against his chest.
Robin is Robin.
And I love her.
A/N: I don't know how well this turned out or not...it's kind of awkward. Either way, it was fun to write :3
Thanks for reading! Please review!