Robin had worked his magic and reassigned himself and Andrew to a new room. He sat packing his bag, careful to hide his black suit underneath the pairs of regular clothing. His 'undercover' suitcase had been packed and rarely used for years- some of the shirts had holes in their seams and the jeans were faded and worn.
Which, Raven thought as she tucked papers, newspaper clippings, and other research materials into a backpack, didn't stop him from looking like a model. He always managed to look as if his hair and makeup crew was just around the corner or outside the door, ready to tousle his hair, tear the hem of his shirt, and help him insert a fresh pair of bright, electric blue contact lenses.
This was happening too often- she had caught herself staring again. He sat with one long leg dangling off the small dorm bed, the other propped up as he leaned against the wall. The long morning light from the window came in behind him, revealing the brown tones in his dark hair and the ever sharp and square line of his jaw. It ignited a sense of contentment in Ravens chest to see him as close to relaxed as he ever got, to feel peace emanating from him instead of stress and constant calculation.
He glanced up before she could look away, and the brilliant smile he gave her was enough to make two things very clear all at once.
Her feelings exploded both inside and out- she at least managed to project them into the bathroom, where the mirror cracked and glass shards sliced through the shower curtain. She hadn't lost control of her powers once since her father was imprisoned, and there was no denying that it was unadulterated pleasure had caused them to slip. She was happy. Happy for no other reason than the gift that was his smile. A gift he had given to her. A gift that she wanted more of for herself and no one else, something only he could give.
And secondly: she didn't understand and couldn't control this feeling, and therefore it was simply unacceptable. She shut it down angrily.
Robin's smile faded as he felt this wild swing in emotion from her. Something was wrong enough that their connection was sharp again, clear, like it used to be.
"What just happened?" He asked, feeling as though he had just missed something very important.
"Nothing," She said, breaking eye contact. She was hiding from him.
"Raven."
"I'm just…. trying to get some of Andrews feelings under control, you know, from before." He tried to assess whether or not this was a lie, but their connection was strained again. From this he concluded Raven was the one inhibiting it, perhaps had been this whole time, but couldn't figure out why.
"I'm going to go see if he needs any help moving." She didn't seem to care that her exit was abrupt, absurd, and so obviously an excuse to avoid his inquiry. She left without saying anything else.
Robin sat confused and dismayed. She had been emitting a happiness not seconds before like a soft light. He had been receiving it and sending it back- like they would do before things had changed. Watching her sit quietly, thumbing through his notes respectfully and thoughtfully organizing them for travel had been so calming.
He wanted to understand and struggled to remember when things had changed. She had started sitting up with him at night after her father had been defeated. They would have conversations in their minds, and he knew it wasn't to keep quiet for the others asleep down the hall, but to utilize that connection, which was like massaging a strong and well-used muscle. The atrophy had started somewhere in there- for some reason she had pulled away just as they began to truly share. And now when he tested to see if he could hear her, feel her- there was barely an inkling, a whisper. Whatever had distracted her just now- when she had hit him with a wave of almost joyous emotion- had made her let her guard down. Her consequent horror had shut it down again- she was shutting him out on purpose.
Why? He felt frustrated, but most of all, hurt. He realized that closeness with Raven had become something he cherished, and now he didn't know why it was gone, or if he could get it back.
Raven was miserable. She knew what was wrong now, knew that it was her denial of her feelings that was severing the connection to Robins mind. And yet she saw now that there was no way to fix it, no going back to the relationship they had shared. The only way to restore the connection was to admit what she felt, which would drastically change their dynamic regardless.
He would be kind, sure. Gentle. Understanding, humble. He would say that he didn't feel the same way, or that even if he did that he had to think of the team first and as a unit. He would valiantly try to remain close but not too close, and the knowledge would always be in the back of his mind, and in the back of hers. He would feel it in their connection for as long as she pined. And that would be The End. No, she would choose the repression of her true feelings, and collaterally, the repression of her closest friendship over The End.