𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑-𝐁𖣠𝐘 . [Rinney]

( . . . 𝟐 )

Billy was a pussy for actually going to work.

Robin hated opening his eyes in the morning and seeing him dressed in the high-waisted jeans he had seen the day before and a striped orange and yellow t-shirt.

"You look gay."

"No I don't stop that."

When the door closed, leaving him alone in that apartment that he felt so comfortable in, Robin felt truly at ease. The bed was soft and clean, the white sheets welcoming his body as well as the pillow—which he felt like his ear was being devoured by the soft material—cheek puffing up at the nice sensation.

The first thing he noticed was Billy's neat bed. Sheets were in place and the blankets' edge narrowly touched the floor. He noticed it swaying and turned to the open window with its curtains fluttering, an odor of rain filtering through.

He groaned, sluggishly twisting.

~~~

After he emptied his luggage, throwing his stuff in the drawers and the closet, he thought that the best idea was to get the hell out of this place and get something at that nice cafeteria he heard from Billy, recommending to try out the donuts and the nice American Coffee - but he did not like sweets, so he'd stuck with the second option. 

After hollowly and neatly folding his clothes and placing them in his closet, he saw the same clothing from the day before lying on his bed. He didn't even bother to take the already-laid-out ones from the day before: black jeans, black leather belt, red Vans, and a red sleeveless shirt, matching with his newest red bandana embellished with white and black figures and drawings. And of course, lots of chains. (three wrapped around his neck and one clinging to his jeans).

Checking his pockets, he concluded that three dollars and twenty-five cents would be more than enough for only an American Coffee, and he wasn't used to eating in the early morning.

And so did he.
The gentle melody of the classic music he so cherished filled the air, while the clinking of tea cups and plates could be heard echoing around the room. The tables were small but plentiful, and the soft, hazelnut-colored chairs and stools provided a cozy atmosphere.

Robin perused the inviting atmosphere, taking in every minuscule detail, and it became evident that his criteria for a pleasant environment had been diminished by Denver, where the eateries were lackluster and the music was nothing compared to what he was hearing now.

His gaze swept across the room once more, seeking a spot to himself, when suddenly a hand shot up, gesturing towards him in invitation - Bruce.

He relievedly grinned and quickly sat on the tool in front of the raven. "Hi - hey. Sorry for missing you." He straightened his back, astonishment striking him for a single second before settling into his seat comfortably.

Bruce moved in closer, dragging the puffy seat with him. "Nah," he shook his head. "It's alright. You're here for breakfast, too? Or you're here to see Finn?" He winked, a smug crossing his face.