Guess who's back, back, back? anyway, here's some college oq with just a smidgen of angst, because you all know deep inside, you love the angst. I did originally decide to post this when i've had at least one multichap updated or finished somehow, but oh well, what the hell.
Thanks Milesus for the beta read. Thanks Jen for pre-reading and offering your opinions!
Enjoy beauties.
It's a Tuesday evening and Regina sits at a table inside a restaurant in town, all by herself, even when she shouldn't be. She stares at the flowers neatly sitting on the center of the table, the candles that stood at their side flickering. It's beautiful, really, but she cannot appreciate it, not when he's standing her up again.
It shouldn't be so hard to remember, shouldn't be so hard to make time for them, it's their ritual at this point, dinner together every Tuesday night (she has even scheduled this on his free time so he won't have the excuse of being busy or having classes or anything else that does not involve someone dying or an accident of any kind). Yet he still forgets —more often than not— he's still busy, and she still spends her Tuesday night crying because once again, something else comes before her, and he had, once more, forgotten that they'd made plans.
The waitress comes over once again to ask if she is ready to order, that look full of pity in her eyes, a look that Regina resents, and so Regina squares her shoulder and says No, she's waiting for someone, she just needs a glass of water (a bottle of wine, really), for now. The smile the waitress gives her is indulgent, and Regina begins to hate the girl for it. But she just clamps her mouth shut and gives the other woman a tight smile. When the waitress comes back to pour her a glass of water, Regina pays her no mind and steadfastly ignores her.
Regina takes a sip of water, wishing it was red wine instead, and sighs internally, forcing her tears back to where no one would know they even exist. She doesn't want to cry, not again, and definitely not here. She should be used to it by now, and really, she is, only the dull ache at the edges of her heart never quite eases up no matter how many times he does this to her.
Her phone buzzes from where it sits screen down on the table, and she sighs. She'd left a hundred messages and had called him a thousand times by now, but he hadn't picked up, had not replied, and at this point, she's given up —only hoping now he'd at least see one of her messages and come over even if he's already an hour late, or at least tell her he's not coming (even if deep down she knows already that he's not).
She picks it up and slides her thumb over the screen to unlock it, not surprised to see that it isn't him, but someone else.
Have a good time tonight x
It's Robin, her best friend, and she's touched that he cares so much about her, and she loves him for it, is happy that she has him. But still, her heart aches so much in her chest as she types up a reply:
Doubt it. Daniel's not yet here. Don't think he'll show up, tbh.
And her heart sinks further into her stomach when she hits send, because she actually believes her words.
...
Robin sprawls on his couch, mindlessly flickering the button on the remote and going through channel after channel. It's a Tuesday night and he's bored. Even worse, it's a Tuesday night and it's Regina's date night with her long time boyfriend Daniel (they had been dating for almost three years now, since Freshman year, after they had met at a party in the campus), who Robin tries very hard to remind himself is also his friend.
But it is hard though, to be friendly with the man who had literally stolen the woman he loves right from under his nose. Robin had been friends with Regina for a long time, ever since he's transferred to the same high school as her when they moved to Maine from Essex on their second year. They had both been lucky to get into the same university, Columbia, here in New York, and her parents had been ecstatic (though with trepidation over the blurry status of his relationship with Regina) that they would at least be together in the big city.
The thing though is that he loves Regina, not just as a friend, he's loved her from the first moment he's laid eyes on her. Only he'd been too scared to admit it to her, scared that she would stop talking to him, and that it would ruin their friendship. And if he's honest with himself, which he is as a rule (except about his feelings for Regina), his friendship with Regina is the most important relationship he has, and Robin's sure he won't be able to make it if he lost her over his feelings for her.
So he's kept mum about his feelings, and when she came to him, telling him she had met the man of her dreams, he swallowed the pain and smiled at her, told her he's happy for her even when he'd felt his heart break into a million pieces.
It had even proven to be the right decision when he'd seen her so happy with him, with Daniel, the glow in her positively radiant. He'd convinced himself that setting her free was the right decision.
And yet today, he's not even sure of that, because he'd watched the woman he loves cry over this other man almost on a daily basis, and it hurts him, makes him want to punch Daniel square in the face to knock some sense into him.
He cannot do that though, so he settles on comforting Regina, settles on hugging her and drying her tears when she comes over to sob over another date cancelled or postponed, another important date forgotten, settles on seething and mentally killing her boyfriend violently.
Something that he's sure he'll be doing tonight, when he receives her message saying Daniel hasn't showed up once again to their date (it's been happening so much lately, and Robin has barely managed to stop himself from punching the lights out of him for doing this to Regina).
He can't help but wish he'd risked it back then and told her what he'd felt for her, maybe now they'd be together and they would be happy because he would never, ever treat her this way.
...
It's an hour later when Regina finally gives up hope.
She types up a quick message to Robin, saying Daniel had in fact stood her up, before gathering her things. With as much dignity as she can muster, Regina stands up from her seat with her head held high, tears held back, as though her boyfriend hadn't stood her up yet again, and gracefully exits the establishment.
She doesn't want to believe it, doesn't want to believe that this isn't a nightmare, but Daniel has done it again.
He had stood her up once again and the realization stabs through her, sending painful sparks through her heart.
Regina takes her coat and wraps it around her body, exhaling and trying to fight her tears. In her hand, her phone vibrates and she unlocks it, only to find a message from Daniel saying he's sorry, he got held up reviewing and lost track of time, and he'll make it up to her.
She knows he will, he always does, it's a cycle by now, and she sighs heavily because she knows she'll forgive him, knows she'll let him get away with it with a few apologetic words and a few soft kisses… only to wait for him to do it again.
Regina shakes her head at herself as she steps out of the restaurant, and just as she does, the rain starts pouring, and it's stupid, idiotic, really, because she'd actually thought that her day could not get any worse than this. The rain pelts down the ground in torrents and she has no way of getting home or hailing a cab without getting herself soaking wet, and shit fucking hell! This life!
She sighs, resigned to the fact that she's just going to have to ruin her dress and shoes, and that she'd have to run through the rain, hail a cab and just accept the fact that she's going to be soaking wet.
Regina breathes in deeply and braces herself, runs to the sidewalk to hail a cab —the first one already occupied and speeding past her, the second one stolen by another woman a few feet away from her, and the third one speeding through, managing to soak her further.
She feels frustrated at this point, feels the need to punch something, someone, to curse at everything because really, how great has this night turned out?
Regina drops her head and lets the tears flow, no one would know, her face is wet with the rain anyway. She reaches up to wipe under her eyes, and it surprises her when suddenly, she no longer feels the rain on her skin, instead she listens to the droplets falling around her, but not on her.
Curiously, Regina looks up and finds the last man she'd expected to be there.
Robin.
He has a soft, chiding smile on his face, umbrella firmly grasped in hand, looking at her with an odd expression.
"I always tell you to bring an umbrella, but you never listen," he chastises, and she shakes her head, sobs harder at the sight of him.
Regina throws her arms around him, knocking him a little out of balance. He catches her though, steps back a little to gain equilibrium as his arms wrap around her soaking wet form. She feels relief flood through her, feels a little overwhelmed, too, doesn't really know what she's done to deserve Robin. And to think that Daniel has always been so jealous of her friendship with Robin, of the things she is willing to do for him, when he's the only one who is ever really there for her, the only one who has ever truly cared.
She gasps out his name as she continues to sob, while his arms snake around her waist, and pulls her closer. Her own arms tighten around his neck and she clutches him, holds on to him for dear life. She can feel him move his hand a little until he's able to run it up and down her back.
"It's okay, Regina," he tells her, and she sighs because it's not, it's not okay but he's here trying to soothe her. "He just got caught up. You know how tight his schedule can be."
And there he goes, making up excuses for Daniel again, though Regina is sure that it isn't for Daniel's sake but for hers, for the sake of her broken heart. It does very little now, in the way of comfort, because Robin isn't the one who's supposed to be apologizing to her about this, Daniel is, but Robin's warm embrace against the cold night air and the coldness seeping through her due to her wet dress, goes a long way.
"You don't have to keep making excuses for him," she tells him on a hiccup, lifting her head and shaking it. She gives him one look and feels horrified. "Oh god, I got you wet!" She exclaims, hand flying up to her mouth as she steps back.
Robin follows her form with the umbrella, taking a step forward as she does.
"It's fine," he tells her, but she's not convinced. "Okay, look, why don't we go to my apartment and get you changed into something a little more dry than what you're wearing, hmm? Lest you actually catch death in those soaking wet clothes."
She gives him a numb nod, lets him place his hand at the small of her back and lead her away to his apartment where it's bound to be a lot warmer.
He's here now, and suddenly everything feels so much better.
...
It feels so much better.
That's what Robin thinks as he opens the door to his apartment and is immediately assaulted by warmer air (he'd left the heater on while he'd gone to fetch Regina). He takes the folded umbrella in his hand and places it on the corner, lets it stand for it to dry, before he urges Regina in.
Regina shivers instantly and he is reminded of her current state —soaked to the bone. So he leads her to the bathroom (she seems to be too numb and too out of it at the moment, probably from having cried all the way to his apartment), and leaves her to her own devices, hoping to God she's in herself enough to get the whole dressing thing done.
It would be too awkward for him to have to help her do so, out of fear that she'd catch pneumonia if she stays another minute in her wet clothes.
He walks to his bedroom then, and goes to his closet to retrieve some dry clothes. He, himself, needs to get changed, so he takes one shirt for himself and another for Regina to change into. He shoves his shoes to a corner before going to look for a pair of joggers that would fit Regina. It had taken a while, but he did find something, a pair of grey joggers that he hasn't worn in about two years and he's positive had shrunk. It will fit Regina, he reckons, though it might still be a couple inches longer.
But that will have to do, so he takes it in his hands and delivers it to her outside the bathroom, where he hears the shower running. He moves away from there and walks to the kitchen ( it isn't much of a kitchen, really, just somewhere he can cook and wash and eat, his apartment isn't that big after all) to make some hot cocoa. He adds whip cream on top and splashes the hot drink with some rum, just so it would give an extra warmth to their bellies. He debates on whether or not he should make some food, he isn't really hungry, but he could eat something. Besides, he's pretty certain that Regina hadn't had dinner, considering what just happened.
It sets his mind, the latter part of his train of thoughts, and he goes about making some eggs and toasts (it is all he has at the moment, aside from ramen noodles that might be filling but has no nutritional value whatsoever, and something Regina won't eat).
He is just pouring the beaten eggs on to the pan when Regina walks out of the bathroom, clad in his shirt and pants (both of which she's had to roll up several folds so that they don't drown her), face bare of makeup and looking so beautiful his heart aches over the fact that she isn't his to love, or to even tell and show exactly how beautiful she is.
"Hey," she greets with a shy smile, "I hope you don't mind that I hung my dress in your bathroom, as a, probably, futile attempt to salvage it, and I used your shower."
And probably had a good cry in there, too, he thinks, but doesn't say it. Instead, he nods and smiles, points at the small table where their hot cocoas had been waiting. She takes a seat and smiles at him gratefully.
"I don't mind," he tells her as he spoons out the eggs and serves them on two plates. He walks to the table and places the plates down before going to retrieve the toasts. " I have always told you that you're free to use anything." He takes a seat next to her as he puts the toasts down the table. "Eat up. I'm sorry this is not exactly the gourmet dinner you'd planned for, but it was either this or ramen and I know how much you hate them, MSG, no nutritional value, and all that crap." He rolls his eyes at her and pretends to be annoyed, when in reality all these little quirks of her, even the ones that annoy her, are the things that makes him love her even more.
"Thank you," she says wholeheartedly, eyes glistening with tears yet again, he reaches over and takes her hand in his, squeezing it reassuringly. "Thank you for everything you've done for me."
"There is no need for thanks," he says, and she looks about ready to protest, but he can hardly tell her that he does it all because he loves her, now, can he? So instead he smiles and says, "but you're welcome, Miss Mills. I'm glad to be of service." He makes a show of bowing, well at least, as much as he can given that he's sitting and the table in front of him is on his way.
"Silly," Regina says, chuckling, eyes twinkling for the first time since he'd fetched her from the restaurant, and he swears right then that he could be as silly as a damn clown ifit makes her smile like that.
...
"Are you feeling better?" He asks her when he sits down next to her on the couch, bowl of popcorn in hand.
She looks up at him and scoots over a little, giving him a little bit of space to settle before she moves closer to him again, her feet curling under her.
She shrugs and tries to smile, "I'm feeling better, yes," she says, and though it isn't entirely true, she's still upset what Daniel had done, but she does feel better in a way, too, feels better here with him. "Thank you." She means to thank him for more than just asking, and he knows that —his slight smile and shrug of one shoulder lets her know that.
"I'm your friend, Regina," he says, arm going around her shoulder to squeeze her slightly in reassurance. She snuggles closer and sighs when her head hits the pillow that is his chest, and his arm tightens around her. "You know I'm going to be here for you, always."
She smiles, despite herself. "I know," she says, because she does know, is sure of him and his friendship, is sure she can always count on both. "You're my best friend."
Robin's response is a soft 'Hmm' as she settles further into him and he starts the movie they had planned to watch. But had she been looking at his face, she'd have seen the crestfallen look that had taken over his features, would have known that he wanted more than just to be her best friend, wanted to be her everything, the man she runs to for comfort and for anything, the man who makes her smile and dries her tears (which is what he's actually doing now), the man who means to her the same thing she means to him.
But she hadn't been looking, and she doesn't know any of that.
Perhaps it is better.
After all, ignorance is bliss.
...
There's a sharp ache that settles on his heart the moment she says that he is her best friend. He should be happy, should be content with the place he has in her heart, should be grateful that he has a place at all, and he is, he really is, even if it isn't exactly the place he wants to be in. But the pain is there, even when he tells himself that it shouldn't be.
She's blissfully unaware, of his pain, of his feeling, and though sometimes he thinks that he should tell her, just in case she does return his feelings, most times, he thinks it's better this way because at least, he's sure that he would never lose her.
He feels her snuggle closer to him, for warmth, for comfort, for security —whatever it is, he willingly gives it, lets her take without asking for anything back. He tightens his hold on her and rubs his hand up and down her arm, until her breath deepens and evens out, and then she's dead weight against him, asleep in his arms.
It isn't the first time she has fallen asleep in his apartment or in his arms for that matter, and with the ease of practice, he pulls away from her and gently lifts her up. He carries her to the bedroom, flipping the light on as he goes, careful not to bump her head. He knows that she'll protest in the morning, ashamed of having taken his bed when he willingly gave it to her, and so much more if she'd let him, but frankly he doesn't care.
Robin places her down and pulls the blanket over her, making sure that she's safely and well encompassed under the covers (she does sleep like a snug bug in a rug), before he moves to sit beside her on the bed. He tucks some errant hair back from her face and stares at her for a while, wonders briefly if this could be classified as creepy behavior, but she's beautiful, so beautiful that he finds it hard to look away.
He leans down and places a kiss against her forehead, unable, really, to stop himself. He whispers a soft goodnight to her, and for a moment, he closes his eyes, rests his forehead against hers and pretends that he isn't hurting, that she isn't, because she is his to love —pipe dream, that one, but it is a dream all the same, and he's entitled to it.
Pulling away and shaking his head at himself, at how stupid he is over a woman (though she's more than just a woman, she's the woman, the woman of his dreams, and the one he is apparently destined to love for the rest of his life even if she won't return his feelings), he sighs once more and feels like his heart cracks at every breath.
"I love you," he murmurs in the dead of the night, whispers it to her sleeping form, knowing she won't hear it, and having no courage to say it otherwise. "And I know you don't feel the same way, that you love Daniel. I know you say you're happy with him, but I see you cry and crumble like this over every stupid thing he's done and it breaks my heart. I want to punch him in the face and shake him so he'd realize what a wonderful woman you are and how you're everything to some people, to me, while he treats you like nothing."
He sighs, stops when her eyelashes flutter and she stirs, his heart pounding in his chest. But she only moves to her side and stays asleep and he lets out the breath he isn't aware he has been holding.
"And I'm okay to be just exactly what you need, Regina, even if it's just friends," he tells her still sleeping form, part of him wishing she's awake, most of him relieved that she isn't. "But… I don't think I can stop loving you." He chuckles quietly, though most of it is derision and self-deprecation. "I hope that's okay."
Of course, he is met with silence, Regina's breathing the only sound heard in the stillness of the room, so Robin shakes his head and sighs, takes one last look at her and then walks out to sleep on the couch.
What he doesn't know is that Regina had been awake all along, had awoken when he had kissed her forehead, his stubble tickling her, and had started talking. His words had shocked her into silence, and instead of bidding him goodnight just like she'd planned, she'd remained still, pretended to sleep, had rolled over at one point just for good measure, but she's heard it all.
She'd heard everything.
Robin doesn't know that, though, and in the end, ignorance really is bliss.
Let me know what you all think, it'd be much appreciated!
