“No, I – well, yes, but I wouldn’t give you burnt coffee. I’m sure I’ve got some of those… coffee pod capsules sitting around.” He did, although he’d never quite gotten around to using them, as they’d been a gift of some sort, but it seemed like the kind of drink Ava – his daughter – might enjoy more. So, as with many other things that he had kept and not used for the sake of someone else, he’d stored it safely away.
He trails after her, because he is entirely convinced that if she leaves his eyesight she will vanish and he will wake up again, and that would ultimately be much more destroying to his self esteem than anything else his soul has experienced lately, and he’s still trying very hard not to chase her presence off again so quickly. “I can… take your bags to your room?” Is the staying? Is she visiting? Is she around for reasons completely unrelated to him? He’s at a complete loss what to do.
More than anything, he does believe she’ll disappear if he tries to touch her, as well, which is probably what prompts him to ask her. If she’s a figment of his imagination, of his subconscious, it should have no effect at all. Shouldn’t it? “I spoke to Wren. On Christmas. He… told me he’d be coming over for New Years, but then that dome… that thing happened, and. You became trapped, too, didn’t you?” Shame coats his entire expression, because this is something he wished had never touched them, something that the selfish part of him should have foreseen at some level. But he hadn’t, and he’d let them down again.
She’s already in the kitchen, ignoring his chattered protests and pulling out two mugs. Ava sets to work getting the coffee ready as Robin follows her in. She hums a little quietly as she pours the grounds, listening to him worry. Never in her life had she heard him worry so much. He was always fussing over them when he was around, the perfect dotting father. Her heart tugged a little, remembering those times.
“I’ll get them later.” She nods back to where her bags were placed in the living room. He was scared, she was terrified and she wished to God he’d just stuck around. Ava looks to her dad for a moment, takes in his features, blinks and turns back to the coffee pot. A hollow feeling in her chest. I spoke to Wren. She freezes, hairs on her arms standing up. The rest of Robin’s words drown out as she feels the her rapid heart beating in her rib cage. Ava clenches her fist, shakes the feeling off and turns back around.
“You talked to Wren?” She asks. “When? What did...what did he say?” She’s white knuckled, face paled in a panic. “Something...” her breath hitches, not able to finish her sentence.
