A shiver wracked my spine as a gentle, calloused hand trailed my waist. Breath ruffled my hair and I contently leaned into him, situating myself into the contours of his body; he was without his armor. He created a perfect barrier around me that shielded me from the breeze. His warmth was comforting, and it instantly whisked me away from reality.
"Robin," he whispered. "What are you doing?"
His very voice - that tone of nobility, that air of regality - just brought me more aloof. His voice was low, and when he spoke words that were only meant for my ears, I melted. I wholly lost my tactical ability to form proper ideas, even sentences.
His hands played with mine.
"I've been thinking," I replied, smirking. Once he was here, I felt that my fears had entirely absconded my body. His presence charged my heart with electricity.
"About?"
"The war mostly. You too, though," I assured simply. With my arms crossed over my body, my fingers entwined in his, he suddenly spun me around. Once focused, I was rapt by his mere complexion.
"You mustn't dwell on the war too much, milady. You'll wrinkle," he chided carefreely.
I grinned. As much as his knightly attitude allowed, he teased me.
"And you think I'm the sort of lady to believe you? With your liability? I think not."
He always had a way of prescribing the very worst possible outcome, and yet, it never came. He was wary, with clanking, silent footsteps.
"You believe in me enough to allow me right at your side, unprotected."
My reaction was understated. "I never said your sword wasn't trustworthy; only your words."
"Hmm," he hummed, touching his lips to my hairline. He was tall enough I was buried beneath his chest. "I shame you for loving a dishonest man."
"Oh? How so?"
"I shame your love," he began, his fingertips grazing the bottom of my chin, "your claim of feeling," he murmured, biting his bottom lips, eyes shut, "by proving it insincere."
I mumbled, "Uh-huh," in return. His fingers trailed my jawline and situated at the nape of my neck.
Seemingly for his own amusement, every time he kissed me, he hesitated. It was a simply to gauge my reaction, and I felt meager for allowing his reluctance to affect me. Still, it did. He fooled with the mind of a master tactician.
Very gingerly, he lips pressed against mine. It was the type of kiss that had little body yet much mind. It was chaste yet loving, careful yet unafraid. My heart reacted appropriately.
Just when I thought he was going to kiss me again, he halted and allowed a sigh.
"If I am dishonest, than saying 'I love you' is but wind, isn't it? You're too intelligent to think otherwise."
Those words got to me like a catapult shooting stone through my chest. Every time was surprising. The words jolted the wires in my heart.
"But...they do seem to affect you," he proved amusedly. "So I must be an honest man."
"Maybe I'm just dumb," I admitted raggedly.
He chuckled quietly beneath his breath. "Yes, an idiotic woman somehow found herself guiding an entire army."
I sucked in a breath. I had to admit, it hadn't been only coincidence I became a tactician.
"Alright," I surrendered, smiling at him. "You've got me."
He grinned against my lips and resumed his advances. This time, he was a little less gentle.
A/N:
Pointless fluff complete! Short and sweet, like a box of chocolates.
Originally this was meant to be of my favorite pairing for Robin, and it still is, but something about leaving her partner somewhat anonymous spoke to me. I think it's pretty obvious who the mystery guy is, and I'm satisfied that I kept him in character.
Anyway, it was fun to write more sophisticated than usual. I feel like it turned out better than most of my general writing. Thanks a tons-a-bunches for checking it out!
