Eye of the Beholder - Chapter 3
I know it’s been a while since I’ve updated anything (except for a KH oneshot in ‘All These Lives’ for OQ Celebration Day last month which you should totally check out) but there’s been a lot of stuff that I’m dealing with lately, and so writing has been put on the backburner.
I’m still trying to write when I can, but I just wanted to assure people that I haven’t given up on writing and that I’m still very determined to complete my ongoing fics.
Big thanks to Lis and Sarah who helped with this :*
Anyway, here’s an awkwardly cute chapter for y’all. Please let me know what you think :)
Despite his insistence that he isn’t going to listen out for the woman with the beautiful voice, Robin still feels a slight disappointment with every person entering the Merry Men’s Diner that isn’t her.
Although, Sarah had told him that she’d met her yesterday - even though she hadn’t known it until the woman had left the shop, and John had received several whacks of a dishcloth for not telling her sooner - and so Robin hopes that she becomes a new regular here.
He reaches for his mug of tea, the warm temperature of the ceramic belying the luke-warm liquid inside, and Robin grimaces as he feels betrayed. He needs a new tea, a hot cup of tea - one which he won’t be too distracted to drink because he’s thinking about someone he may never meet.
With a sigh, he reaches under the table for his cane, loops the strap around his wrist and stands.
He doesn’t really need his cane for this short journey - he knows it takes exactly four medium sized steps in his 2'o'clock direction to get to the counter - but whilst he’s comfortable making that trip after closing hours when the diner is empty, he finds it a lot easier navigating around people when they move out of his way first.
There’s already a person at the counter, and the first Robin knows of them is his stick bumping into their shoes. He offers a quick apology, uses their position to work out where to queue, and moves to stand there. Sarah must notice him from behind the counter; she’s quick to assure him that she’ll ’only be a moment’. Robin nods, waits a few seconds, then takes the time to listen to the conversations happening around him.
There’s a man with a nasal voice sitting at the table just behind him complaining about a sports game, frustrated with his team being only 3 points from the lead and convinced the other has obviously cheated - the woman with him seems entirely too smug in pointing out that he’s only a sore loser because her team won. There’s an elderly man further behind trying to get his grandchild to eat their greens so they can grow to be big and strong like their brother. There’s a couple of girls back to his left chatting about what they’ve been watching on tv, thoroughly excited that an actor they adore has finally got a role with a show that appreciates him. And there’s a young woman sat to his right on the raised decking talking to her friends about a hot guy at work who she wants to take into the copy room and use his tie to…
The rest he tunes out, lest he have to order a cup of tea with cheeks as hot as Vesuvius.
The person in front of him moves away and Sarah calls Robin a couple of steps forward, asking; “what can I get you, my friend?”
“Another tea, please,” Robin answers, and then spontaneously getting a craving for something sweet; “and a slice of Victoria Sponge cake too.”
“Sure, you go and sit back down and I’ll…” Sarah starts, but then her voice trails off and Robin’s left to wonder what’s going on. But then she’s speaking up again; “change of plan: you stay right there.”
Robin frowns. Sarah usually tells him to go and sit down, that she’ll bring whatever he ordered over to him (especially when it comes to hot drinks) and give him a receipt at the end of the day - with the ‘best friend of the owners’ discount applied to it.
But apparently, not today.
“Just scooch over to the left a little,” Sarah says, and despite his frown Robin takes two small steps to his left. She chuckles and corrects him; “my left. Your right.”
Setting his jaw, Robin moves back the two steps he just took, and then two extra, wondering if he needs to take another one until Sarah tells him ’that’ll do’.
“What can I get you?” she asks, and it takes Robin longer than it should to work out that she has another customer.
He’s not sure why he couldn’t just sit down whilst she took their order, but then he hears it; the soft, expressive, American drawl he couldn’t forget even if he wanted to, and he can’t help the beaming smile that grows across his face.
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