Hopefully this much longer chapter makes up to the filler chapter for chapter 9? It was so much fun to write and I think that I am falling for Robin myself! He's such a sweetheart.
Enjoy! And don't forget to leave a review, let me know what you think!
PS I will be writing for Outlawqueen Rough Smut Week! So keep an eye out for that!
She had told him that she would meet him there. He had needed to be there early anyway, to oversee the hanging up of his photos and greet potential buyers. Even if it had been appropriate she couldn't have made it. Wednesday had been a hectic day at the office for Regina and so she barely had twenty minutes to shower and change when she arrived home before she had to set off back out of the door again. However she did send a quick message to Robin to inform him of her whereabouts in the process.
He seems excited when he replies, 'Great! I'll see you there!' and, honestly, so is she. Regina hasn't been to a photography exhibition before; she has, however, been dragged around art museum after art museum in her youth when her mother had encouraged her to broaden her knowledge and learn the history of art, rather than simply embracing her artistic nature like her father had encouraged. The brunette smiles softly, she knows that her father would love Robin and what he does. He would've liked to come to the exhibition.
The sky is a deep, dark blue which shimmers with the lights of Central London as Regina makes her way out of the taxi and immediately she feels the cool air of January sweep up the hem of her coat and cause a shiver to dance across her spine in a violent zigzag. She has dressed in a long-sleeved, tight fitting red dress; it's fairly plain but it's formal and classy–she hopes she's not too overdressed for the occasion. Her heels clack against the pavement and the sound of classical music flits across the breeze from a few buildings away as the door to the exhibition swings opened and closed again.
Regina watches as a couple climbs from the taxi just outside of the entrance, linked arm in arm. The woman dons a camel brown, fur coat, which makes Regina's overcoat suddenly feel chilly as she wraps it tighter around herself. She follows them in, listening to their soft chatter and observing their loving glances towards one another. She wants something, someone like that.
"Regina!"
Regina turns her attention to her left, the direction from which her name had been called. She smiles as she sees Robin approaching her. "Robin," she greets, beginning to shed her coat as the warmth from the indoors makes her rosy-cheeked and cosy. She is surprised (but pleasantly so) when he greets her with a kiss to the cheek and takes her coat from her hands, walking it over to the coat rack; she follows.
"I'm so glad you could make it," he says, a large dimpled smile curving across his face making Regina melt delightfully inside. "Champagne?" he offers, placing a hand on the small of her back before guiding her towards a table full of champagne flutes.
"That'll be lovely, thank you," Regina replies, outstretching her hand to retrieve the glass from his fingertips. She glances around with curiosity; the room is large and vintage, typically artsy. The walls are stripped down to their original brick and there are lanterns, which line the red stone, emitting a dull orange light. Each photograph is illuminated with its own set of bright lights so that there is no loss of detail. It's so cosy, so welcoming. When she turns to look back at Robin she finds him smiling absently at her. "What?" she asks, biting her lip.
"Nothing," he murmurs, shaking his head, "You look beautiful, Regina," he compliments, taking her arm in his. "Let me show you around."
The brunette nods through her blush, he's so charming, so kind and giving; she thinks back to the bunch of flowers, which now are positioned on her table dresser opposite her bed. "Do you sell much at these things?" she asks curiously as she is led past a few of the abstract images which hang in a jagged motion across the wall and towards a series of landscapes, black-and-white, sepia and colour. They pass those too.
"One or two, but that's not why I do this," he says coming to a slow stop and turning to face her.
"Right, because you want to share your work with others," Regina replies with a nod, offering him a small smile. "I remember."
"Ah, so I didn't bore you too much, then," he teases before looking over to the wall beside where he has stopped. "These are mine," he announces, "From here," he points to the photograph which sits just before her eyes, "To here," he adds, pointing in the near distance to a black and white image.
Regina lets her focus fall to the first image he had pointed at, her eyes roaming silently over the older man pictured. He's wearing a woollen hat, which is tugged over his messy white hair. From underneath a pair of bushy eyebrows peak out like a pair of caterpillars and draw attention away from the wrinkles around his eyes and across his forehead. But Regina notices them, and she follows the indents all the way down to the skin around his mouth, which is parted in delight. He's missing a fair few teeth but in this moment the man seems so blissfully carefree. She cannot help but smile.
Robin's voice is soft beside her as he explains, "This was taken just a few seconds after I gave him the hat and scarf I had bought for him. He gave me permission to photograph his smile in return for my gift. He is an ex-veteran living on the streets of New York."
Regina is suddenly speechless as she looks from the image to the man standing beside her. "You gave him that?" she asks, gesturing towards the dark green beanie.
"That and a warm meal, not much but-"
"But just when I thought you couldn't be more considerate you show me this," she whispers, not allowing him to finish his sentence. She shakes her head incredulously. The strong urge to kiss him, right then and there, even though they are in public, becomes surprisingly overwhelming. Her body shifts closer to him and her eyes remain locked with his before she is reaching for his hand and taking it into hers to squeeze it softly, resisting the urge to press her lips to his, as she adds, "You're one of life's good people, Robin."
The man blushes, bringing his free hand up to the back of his neck to rub absently at the hair there. He shrugs, trying to pass it off as nothing. "I should be thanking him, really, that smile, this picture, it tells a thousand stories and it's one of my favourites from the collection."
Regina smiles, turning her gaze back to the wall of photos; all of them consist of smiling men and women. The majority of the characters are old and decorated with wrinkles but some are younger, less experienced. However, each of them have one thing in common; a new woolly hat and knitted scarf. Once again, Regina doesn't know what to say as she steps past the photographer to inspect each photo closer. Robin stays quiet behind her, though she can feel his warm gaze against her back. A photo of an old woman catches her eye and she finds herself drawn to it. The lady's hands are clapped together and her head is tilted back in a hearty laugh as her hand covers her mouth. She falls in love with it instantly. "This one," she whispers, looking back to Robin before grinning. "I want to buy this one. Can I?"
Robin looks at her wide-eyed, looking at her as if she has just requested the most ludicrous of requests. "Regina you needn't," he fumbles, "I mean, I didn't bring you here in the hopes that-"
However, Regina shakes her head, interrupting him, "I want to buy it, is it for sale?"
"Yes," he says, nodding and slowly stepping towards it, eyes flickering down to its price tag before he is taking it from the wall and heading passed her. He slips the frame into a brown paper bag before tying a piece of string around its middle and then from top to bottom in a cross. Then, upon slipping it into a white, paper carrier bag, he is handing it back to her, "Call it a thank you for coming along."
Regina's eyes grow wide and now it's her turn to look taken aback as she shakes her head fervently. "No, Robin, I can't just take this." She reaches into her handbag with her free hand to retrieve her purse but she feels a warm palm fall to her wrist, stopping her with a gentle touch. She looks up and is met with an intense blue gaze.
"You can," he assures, smiling warmly as he removes his hand from hers. "I would like for you to have it."
Again, the brunette shakes her head, leaning forward and this time she doesn't hold back, this time she presses a light, lingering kiss to his lips, before pulling away. "Thank you, thank you so much. I can't wait to put it up."
Of course she won't just accept this, he's given her so much, which she has yet to return; but she will. She wants to show him the kindness that he has shown her other than simply being with him. She just needs to know how.
The exhibition goes down a hit. Upon showing Regina his prints Robin introduces her to a few of his friends from work and from various exhibitions, showing her their work thereafter. He enjoys watching her as she regards each photograph differently, enjoys the way her nose crinkles as she tries to figure out something she doesn't quite understand or the smile that graces her face when she finds the image amusing or endearing.
He carries her gift for her as she looks at some of the more interactive displays and keeps a hold of it from then on. The last exhibit is a series of photoshopped landscapes, each with a foreign object manipulated amongst the trees or on top of the bridge or hidden amongst the buildings. "How creative," she murmurs, looking over her shoulder at Robin with a small smirk. "I would've never placed a giant toothbrush amongst these buildings but somehow, in a funny kind of way, it works."
"Thanks, mate," a voice sounds from her left causing Regina to straighten up so that she can face the brunette that approaches them; Robin smiles at the friendly face. "It's meant to imitate a streetlamp."
"These are yours?" she asks before looking back to Robin who nods in answer and steps to her side so that he can introduce the pair to one another.
"Regina, this is Will, he was in the summer classes I took last year," he informs, recalling the Tuesday evenings he used to spend with the man over the months of July and August with a small smile. However he pauses just for a moment as he wonders how to introduce Regina to the fellow photographer; he settles with something generic. "Will, this is Regina, she works for DevilDesign."
Will's eyes widen. "Bloody hell! That's a good company that, congrats," he replies with a nod, extending his hand to the graphic designer who takes and shakes it politely.
"Thank you," Regina replies before Robin feels her pressing just slightly closer against his side and he resists the urge to wrap his arm around her and instead rests his palm at the base of her back. He takes this as a silent approval to his introduction.
"How are you doing Will?" Robin asks, "I didn't see you at the last exhibition."
Will nods. "Aye, I was taking the Mrs on holiday. We are doing well, and you?" Robin watches as he looks towards Regina who is cozied up against his side. "Finally found yourself a girlfriend, then?" he asks with a raised brow and a sudden panic begins to take over Robin's heart as it beats frantically in his chest. Did he really just ask that?
There's a brief moment of silence before Robin finds himself stumbling over his words, trying to find the right ones to say. He doesn't want to say anything that could risk the way things are heading between them. "I, well, we.. it's-"
"It's still early days," Regina interrupts, dropping a hand to give Robin's a reassuring squeeze. "But I have to say that not only is your friend here, talented but he has done nothing but treat me kindly from the moment we first met."
Will grins, looking between the couple. "Ah, yes, that's Robin for you. He wouldn't hurt a fly–he has one of the biggest hearts I know."
Robin stands there slightly speechless before looking down towards the smiling brunette beside him and he cannot help but smile in return before nodding graciously. "Thank you," he replies quietly, meaning that for more than just the compliment.
Regina shrugs softly offering him a small shake of her head. "I'm just telling the truth," she insists, her voice is quiet and different from the rest of the evening; he watches a small, innocent and adorable blush creep up her cheeks despite her slightly more confident expression.
Robin searches his date's chocolate-brown eyes in a moment of silence as he sweeps his thumb absently over the backs of her fingers. He is about to reply, about to tell her how wonderful she is, how lucky he is to have witnessed her smile more times than he is sure he deserves, when suddenly he hears their company clear his throat. "Right I best be off," Will announces, bringing Robin away from their little moment as he turns to nod at his friend, "It was nice meeting you, Regina. See you soon, Robin."
"You, too," Regina replies, tucking her hair behind her ear; a habit of hers Robin has noticed. "He seems nice," she adds when they are left alone again, avoiding the elephant in the room and choosing not to bring Will's misunderstanding back up.
Robin nods, watching as his friend moves out of sight before turning back to the beautiful brunette beside him. "How about we go back to my place for a coffee?" he offers, however Regina's smile suddenly fades and she seems hesitant to accept his offer so he shakes his head offering her a reassuring smile. "Just coffee," he assures, "And maybe a few biscuits," he adds more playfully, enjoying the small smirk he gets in reaction, before adding more seriously, "I just don't want tonight to end, not quite yet."
At this, Regina's smile returns, though it's still more of a smirk as it dominates the left side of her mouth, as she replies, "I could have coffee." Then, he feels her fingers wrap around his, so he leads her to where her coat has been left. He pulls the black overcoat from its place on the rack before helping her into it.
There's a pleasant smell of musky perfume that wafts beneath his nose as she flicks her ebony waves out from beneath her collar. It's a welcome scent, spreading warmth up his nostrils and along his tongue; it's the kind of smell he'd want to wake up to in the morning or have lingering in the living room when he gets home from work.
Instead, he's welcomed by the smell of anti-bacterial spray, or men's cologne from where he has had to spray himself on his way out to work after being in a hurry. It's not unpleasant but it's not something homely; her smell is.
"Are we walking?" Regina asks, turning to face him and interrupting him from his little daydream.
Robin shakes his head. "It's cold, lets get a taxi."
At the brunette's nod he's slipping his hand down to that small inviting arch at the bottom of her spine and guiding her out to where the taxies await just across the road. She doesn't seem to mind the contact as she doesn't flinch away, nor does that beautiful smile of hers fall from her scarlet lips.
"I had a great night tonight," Regina says as they slip into the back of the taxi simultaneously, her lip is trapped enticingly between her teeth and her eyes sparkle in the dim light of the taxi.
Robin smiles over at her, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Me too," he replies. "I'm glad you could make it in such short notice."
Regina shrugs, waiting until he's instructed the driver where to go before replying, "I had nothing on. It's nice to get out of the house sometimes. I would've only been watching Eastenders." She chuckles softly, shaking her head and Robin can't help but join in.
He wrinkles his nose. "You don't watch that, do you?" he asks in feigned disgust, smirking as Regina reaches out to swat at his arm.
"Not all the time!" she defends as the taxi pulls out into the empty streets and starts its route to Robin's apartment. "It's just, if I had to watch one, Eastenders is the best out of a bad bunch of Soap Operas."
Robin nods, considering this; she has a point and he can't deny the fact that he's seen one or two episodes over the last few weeks. "Fair enough," he replies, smirking at her and revelling in the eye roll he gets in return.
"Okay then, Mr Professional-Photographer, what do you watch on television?" she retorts with a raised eyebrow, leaning towards him just slightly; it's a challenging movement, flirtatious too.
The photographer shrugs. "I don't watch much, but, when I do, I love a good crime show," he admits, rubbing his hands together playfully making the woman beside him chuckle fondly.
"Crime?" she asks before nodding her head to the side as if considering this. "I had you down as a period drama kind of man," she adds.
"You did?" he asks, slightly supposed by this assumption. "I'd rather read them than watch them," he adds sincerely, furrowing his brow slightly in thought. Coming to think of it, he's only watched one or two movies of that genre and couldn't really get into any of the period dramas on television, it just doesn't really feel right, a crisp image portraying a time where cameras and makeup only existed in the wildest and craziest of dreams.
"Me too," Regina replies, smiling in agreement before turning her attention out of the window.
The rest of the journey is swift, after all Robin only lives a few blocks away from where the exhibition is held, and therefore it only takes them five minutes to weave in and out of the empty streets and towards his complex. He pays the driver when they pull to a stop and hops out quickly to round the back of the car and open the door for Regina.
"Such a gentleman," she teases, looking up at him with a soft glimmer in her eye as she steps from the car and to his side. They wait until the taxi pulls away before they cross the road together and ascend the path to his building. "This is a beautiful location," she remarks, looking around at the topiaries and well-kept garden either side of the path.
"Yes," he replies before adding, humbly, "I'm lucky to live here." But he leaves it at that, deciding not to go into the topic of money and wealth. It's proven to be a bad subject for him in the past.
Regina says nothing but she doesn't react to his comment either, instead she simply follows him as he leads the way through the double doors and towards the lift. "Do your parents live nearby?" she asks as they wait for the doors to slide open.
"No," Robin replies with a small smile, "They live further up north, in Nottingham."
"Do you see them often?" Is her next question as the lift is called and they step in together. Robin presses the number of his floor.
"Not as much as I'd like to, but we call weekly. I'd say I see them every other month," Robin replies with a small shrug. Truthfully, he has days where he wishes he hadn't moved away, especially back when he was at university; studying in the southwest of England meant that there were infrequent visits home and long car rides to and fro.
"That must be nice…" Regina replies, glancing away from him with a small nod of her head. He can imagine it must be hard for her, living in another country from her family, and he wants to ask her about them. He remembers her comment about Christmas a few weeks ago and it makes him want to ask her more about her relationship with her relatives, but then a melodic ring sounds across the small space and the doors to the elevator slip open.
They head to his door in silence, the brunette beside him simply taking in her surroundings quietly. He lets them in, the keys chiming loudly in the glass bowl beside the door as he throws them carelessly inside of it. He can smell the slight staleness in the air (though he may be being a little paranoid) so when Regina sheds herself of her coat he slips over to the window at the end of the room to open it.
"You know I never imagined your place looking like this," Regina speaks up with a small smirk, her heels clicking against the hardware flooring as she crosses the open plan kitchen into the living room. Robin turns to face her, watching as her attention falls to the photos that hang over the sofa (if only she knew how much of a bugger they were to hang up). "Is this your mother?" she asks, pointing to the centre photo, an image of his mum on the porch swing of his childhood home, reading a book.
"It is," he confirms, walking over to join her. "That was… seven years ago. I took it the summer before I graduated."
Regina turns to him, smiling widely. "I can see where you get your good looks from," she flirts, lifting a playful brow which has Robin grinning. "You have her dimples," she remarks more seriously, a slight furrow in her brow forming as she reaches up to touch his cheek tentatively.
Robin leans into the touch. "That's what everyone says," he replies softly, gazing down into those intense brown eyes that can speak a thousand different emotions.
She smiles, it's a beautiful thing, and then she is dropping her hand, stepping back from him just slightly. "So, this coffee?" she reminds with yet another smirk.
Robin shakes his head; this woman manages to make him forget all of his manners. "Of course!" he replies, moving swiftly over to the kitchen. "I have decaf?" he offers, searching through the cupboards.
"That'll be fine," Regina replies as she moves to lean over the kitchen top from the living room area. The open plan allows speech to continue freely.
"So," he begins, deciding that maybe now would be the time to bring up her family, since they've just discussed his, "Do you see your mother much? Do you have any family members here in England?"
Regina shakes her head to both. "Though it's really no burden," she says with a slightly irritated tone. "My mother is hard work."
"Is it just you and your mother?" is his next question to which she nods at.
"That's why there's so much pressure on me to be the best I possibly can, to be the best for her." She sighs. "She wants me to be smart and creative, funny but serious, busy with hobbies yet still have free time. She thinks that," But then suddenly she pauses midsentence, looking over at him with wide eyes. "I'm sorry," she apologises, closing her eyes and shaking her head, "I'm sure that the last thing you want to hear is me complaining about my mother."
Robin frowns slightly, he can't imagine what it would be like to have a mother like that; his mother had always been the as long as you're happy and try your best that's all I can ask for kind of woman. He shakes his head, looking at the somewhat upset brunette standing mere metres away from him, the counter in front of her some kind of physical barrier. "I've been told I'm a good listener," he offers, not pressuring her to tell anymore but also not completely closing the subject as he turns back to the 'home sweet home' mugs which lay on the wooden mug tree, plucking them from their places and depositing a small spoonful of coffee granules in each before moving to the refrigerator to grab the milk. He hears Regina's sigh from behind him and the sound of heels clicking as she moves around the counter and into the kitchen area.
"My father was the only escape from her," she begins, "I was definitely a daddy's girl. He would never defy mother, as he truly did love her, but he would be my shoulder to cry on when things got too much," she chuckles softly, causing Robin to look back over to her as she shakes her head in amusement. "I remember one time when I was eight I really didn't want to go to my piano lesson which mother practically forced me to attend–I had sulked the entire car ride there, so daddy, with the promise not to tell my mother, took me to the zoo instead." She grins widely. "I had the best morning."
Robin smiles fondly, "He sounds like a wonderful man," he offers kindly, watching the passion, the love and the adoration sparkle in the woman's eyes as she speaks about her father. It's truly endearing to witness.
"Yes," Regina whispers, "He was… I felt like he was the only one who really loved me for a very long time… but then, after he died, for a few months, my mother and I were how we should be, in a time of grief it pulled us closer and for the first time in what felt like forever she was loving, caring. She wanted the best for me and she did what made me happy instead of her," She pauses, sighing, "But, of course, that didn't last long. She slowly dropped back into old habits and things went back to normal within months of him passing and I feel like it was then, when my mother became closed off again, that I truly grieved." She looks up at him then, just as he approaches her, handing her the steaming beverage that he has just poured and she cradles it between both hands. "Have you ever lost anyone you loved, Robin?"
Robin feels a sudden pull at the bottom of his gut as he thinks back to the loss he has experienced, one more painful than the rest, though he can't quite bring himself to talk about that. Even the thought of it has a lump forming in the base of his throat. He pushes it down, though, taking a deep breath and nodding, "I lost my grandmother a few years ago.
The brunette frowns, reaching out to place her hand on his elbow softly as she holds the mug in the other. "I'm sorry to hear that, were you close?"
"Yes," he replies, "I was her only grandchild; in many ways she was like a second mother to me." He lifts his eyes to look into the sympathetic orbs of the woman in front of him. "What was your escape?" he asks, stepping closer to her.
"Work," she replies automatically. "Books when I was younger," she adds with a small shrug before turning his question back onto him, "And what about you, what was your escape?"
Robin smiles softly. "Photography," he states before smirking slightly, shaking his head. "I'm a walking talking cliché, aren't I?"
Regina chuckles, scrunching her nose slightly. "A little bit," she agrees with a nod before inching closer to him, so close he can smell the hint of coffee on her breath. "But I think it's sweet," she adds, her eyes falling to his lips, and Robin can't help himself, he really can't, as he reaches up to slide his hand into her hair, revelling in the way it feels between his fingers, in the way her lids grow heavier with the action and the way her head leans into the touch.
"Like you, then," he adds in pure cheese, smiling a large dimpled grin which she returns before he's sealing their lips in a soft kiss. He can taste the latte on her lips, and when she opens for him, the champagne on her tongue. It's a kiss that lingers, that explores and awakens. He searches the length of her tongue with the tip of his before retracting and, oh God, she's got his lower lip between her teeth, sucking tauntingly before letting him go with a grin.
Robin feels her hand on his chest and with a smile she's pushing him away, telling him, "My coffee's going to get cold," with the most devilish of smirks as she raises the named beverage to her lips.