A/N: And now for my next trick, reviving this fanfic! (Yay!)
After spending like a solid year on my pride and joy, Leave A Scar (Fullmetal Alchemist), I've kinda hit a road block. So I'm taking a break and focusing on other projects like this one. Thanks for patiently waiting; here's a quick update!
He was acting different, lately.
It would come in small words, the changes. An "are you alright" here, a "here, lemme get that for you" there. Attention he normally flitted onto other members of the team. Not her.
Definitely not her.
Raven narrowed her eyes at the Bird Boy, a name she'd attached to his spiky head a few weeks ago when the dotting affection began. She internally rolled her eyes; affection. If even...
"Raven?" The familiar voice nearly made her jump; she felt a vase shake, never breaking. She looked, Robin's masked eyes staring back at her, one arm draped along the back of the couch. Beast Boy was staring too, from his place on the floor, neglected controller in his hands.
The leader continued. "Everything okay?"
She quickly nodded, using almost failing sparks of energy to lift her hood up.
"Peachy."
She sensed him nod once, and then with a "dingle-ling", the game was started up again. She glanced to the screen. At least it wasn't that same one (game) as last time.
She noticed Robin scooting closer to her, hand becoming inches away before he spoke. Leaning over, trying to catch her gaze. She lifted the book, bringing it a little closer to her face.
"I've noticed you've been reading more lately," he began. "Anything I could help with?"
"No."
He straightened just slightly, and Bird Brain refused to let the topic go.
"You sure?"
"Positive."
She sensed him blink, slitting the mask a few times as she thought back to the reason she was reading a few extra hours each day. Getting lost in a world that wasn't this one, for starters.
"Well, okay." He slid back, that hand of his moving away as well. "Let me know if there's anything I can do."
"Friend Raven!" Starfire exclaimed from behind, nearly shocking the empathy into expression. "Has thou been feeling the downs? Might my Pudding of Sadness be of comfort?"
With her hood halfway down and her hair a little frazzled, Raven responded.
"No, Star." With a sweeping hand, the hood was replaced again. "I'm fine."
Robin gave a light "hmph"; the same grunt he normally did when thinking about an answer to a particularly hard crossword puzzle problem. Not that Raven had occasionally peeked over his shoulder, tea in hand as she floated on by.
Was she simply another puzzle? The thought struck her as interesting; a question she instantly began mulling over. She supposed she was mysterious, with how much she hid from the other Titans.
Giving an internal sigh, Raven simply shook her head. She wasn't a problem worth figuring out.
He was acting particularly strange, after a fight with Cinderblock.
Raven peered up from her evening tea, seeing their leader on the couch, magazine supported by casually positioned legs. Left ankle resting on top of his right leg. Normal, for him.
But why the silence? Raven's eyes narrowed.
In the stillness between them, she spoke, monotoned voice ringing out in the fifteen-foot space between them.
"You aren't going to ask how I am?"
Robin shrugged one shoulder, never missing a beat. "Figure you'd let us know if something changes."
No, she wouldn't. And he should know that by now.
What game is he playing? Those violet eyes narrowed further, becoming slits.
She was careful not to let the feeling brewing in her chest boil over; to let the emotion simply rest in an infancy. Just breathe, and feel it pass on by.
She did exactly that, relaxing her eyes and turning her attention back to her book. Surrounded by black, text elevated in front of her and one page gently turning.
"You've been meditating more; that's good."
The page ripped, the wound only an inch long.
"Robin," she began with closed eyes, "I do not know what game you are playing at but please stop."
Her brain was screaming like-minded words; her heart was jackhammering itself against her inner-chest. Sides of different coins. Different emotions.
She stopped the feeling about to creep up, a phantom ghosting its way into existence.
He was silent for a long while. And then his head lowered a little bit, quiet voice covering the stillness her words had created.
"Sorry," he said. "You're alone most of the time. Figured you might want some company."
Raven's shadow-covered eyes went wide. That's the reason for all the attention?
For a split second, her face grew warm. The napkin dispenser began leafing through its contents, an invisible hand roughly digging through. She reached inside, pinching the feeling out.
"There's no apology necessary," she returned, voice a drawl.
He instantly nodded, disagreeing with her in just a few inches of movement.
"There is," he returned. "I'm sorry, Raven. I should respect your space."
Guilt snarled her stomach, braiding the organ until the feeling settled between her lungs. Lungs that were working a little harder than usual.
Dammit. The napkin dispenser rattled, a few dishes inside cupboards sounding against one another. What can I do to fix this?
She didn't know. And the silence between them only stretched on. Raven felt lost, like she stood in the middle of a desert without an oasis to be found.
Great.
