Drabble reminiscent, short, spur of the moment, not New Year's oriented, but um, yay? Happy New Year!
Hyphen
Raven likes Robin, but not like-like.
When she tells him this, he has the grace or boyish ignorance to smile in reply. Either way, the like evades hyphenated format and Raven avoids such mildly revolting things as hand holding, flowers colored red or pink, and trips to fairs that she firmly believes need to medicate their attendees before allowing them near the cotton candy and rickety dragon rollercoaster rides.
Raven reasons that if she admits she likes him, and clarifies the very specific and similarly very platonic nature of that liking, the ball bounces to Robin's court. She banks on the fact that the boy can heave a metal pole through a villain's head twenty feet away but couldn't play a proper sport on pain of death or frilly dresses.
Robin knows this. He knows a few things, in fact, for instance, that Raven's favorite color isn't actually blue, and that Raven likes music that might be considered dangerously close to happy—she calls it mild—and, not least importantly, he knows that Raven has a tendency to run.
He knows this and in knowing, bides his time because if there's one thing Robin's always going to be good at, it's a good chase scene.
The fact that the star roles of this ongoing flick involve the unpredictably tempered sorceress and himself is simply convenient, he feels, and, perhaps, a few shades more interesting than if it were anyone else. Though this chase does not involve his cycle or lasers, well prepared insults, nor threats on one's life—though he's sure to provoke these in the future—it's one of the most compelling events in his life to date so far.
Robin is not surprised at this, but he knows Raven would be, and he doesn't mention it.
She only likes him after all.
Not like-like.
The hyphen, Robin believes, mocks him from time to time, and he's not so short on brains that he fails to realize the line he walks between local loon and boy in love when he's been feeling insulted by a mark of grammar.
But then, that's very Raven in itself.
She captivates him but she would never cage him, and she understands him, though proof one can hold is scarce, and she trusts him, even if she never says so.
He loves her, and she knows it, but she doesn't love him back.
This hurts, as love so seems to like doing, but Robin refuses to count his chickens before they hatch. He also makes a blaring mental note to eradicate that stupid saying from life as he knows it, and on the side, he makes small efforts to become a more definite part of the empath's life.
Because even though she does not love him in return, she likes him, and, for a girl like Raven, Robin knows: like is just a hyphen away from love.
Boy wonder, maybe, but a fool he is not. This chase involves waiting, but Robin's quite good at that too, if it's worth it.
Raven is worth it.
Someday, he'll tell her that.
And what's more?
Someday, she'll believe him.
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