Short authors note: I think I wrote this during study hall sometime last year. I was organizing/cleaning out my folders and found it. It's short, but I actually...dare I say it...like it (which happens almost never). Enjoy. : )
You know what it's like to be rejected, whispered about, cast off. You pretend not to hear their words as you make your way through the city.
"Why'd she even come here?"
"She's so stupid, I bet she doesn't even understand us."
"I heard her people are a warrior culture that the rest of the galaxy hates. They obviously did something really bad to get that reputation. She's dangerous!"
"I bet the only reason she was allowed to join the Titans was because she's very friendly with the guys."
You know not everything said about you is bad. You are still a hero, and as such you garner much respect. However, the citizens in Jump City have gotten more complacent around you the last few years. But the bad whispered about you seem to stand out much more than any admirations you receive. You hope futilely that your face (never one very good at hiding emotions) doesn't give your slight sadness away.
A hand covers yours.
Your heart skips a beat.
"I'm going to fucking kill them! What right do they have to talk about you like they know you?"
You let Robin continue to rant about ungrateful citizens, glare at anybody who sends furtive glances and whispers your way. He pulls you through the city as he does so, with his occasional yank of your hand when someone glances your way, an arm slung around your shoulder giving off a 'back the hell up' vibe. It shows his blatant macho attitude and possessive nature.
But do you care?
You glance at him from under your red hair, as he relays his plan about using the interesting combination of a bird-a-rang, lamp, and bowl of pudding to maul a passerby who makes an especially lewd comment about you. His hot, quick words are breathed steamily into your ears in an intimate way that makes your eyes close heavily and nerves jump into full drive, as he leads you through the city.
His impassioned words are all well and good-normally-but the simmering tension in the pit of your stomach bubbles over into the rest of your body and urges it on to greater things.
You turn to him, his impassioned words still tingling in your ear, a hand placed tensely on your wrist, another gently on your back, and quite nearly jump him in an effort to do the only thing you can do in your current position; initiating the likes of a steamy kiss that you are determined to have him remember.
Robin shifts his weight towards you eagerly, to better accommodate you (the fiery, Amazonian, and admittedly horny alien) and smiles against your mouth as the man who whispers to a friend (I told you she only became Titan for the males pleasure) is quickly knocked out by a quick and mysterious flying object to the head (although Robins hand is hovering suspiciously close to his utility belt…) This effectively clears out everyone (whether they said anything about you, good, bad, or none the less.)
And do you care?
Robin tilts your head back in order to get full access to your mouth, satisfied with the privacy finally acquired. His arms wrap around your waist to make sure that you aren't going anywhere.
Do you really even need to answer that question?