"Bread?" He was sitting next to Robin on the log, handing her a chunk.
"Thanks, Chrom, but no." She rejects it with a sour smile, watching him retract the food. The way his gaze twitched towards her mouth told her he noticed.
"Something the matter, Robin?" His eyes were glued on her now and she was staring at the fire; he noticed her bottom lip quivering. "Robin-" And with her name she was crying.
Chrom pulled her shaking body to his, hushing warm breath into her ear. "Everything will work out okay, I know it." His words were barely above a whisper.
"How do you know? Things are getting worse. This war-" Robin's voice was breaking as she looked up to meet his face.
"I know," he pulled his hand up to run small circles on her cheek, "because we're together. I'll be damned, Robin, if we don't make it out of this war alive and together."
He didn't give her a chance to protest, hugging her tighter. He wasn't going to let go.