The Moon's Guardian: The Secret of Moon Acre x reader

Chapter 5

"What was that?" Robin looks at me, his expression almost apologetic. Before I can react, his goons rush in, surrounding me with menacing intent. I glare at Robin, my voice filled with disbelief, "How the... How did you..." Robin averts his gaze. "You bastard." I say glaring at him. One of the boys seizes my arm, their tight grip propelling me forward. We come up to a dilapidated castle. Robin leads me through its weathered halls and down a labyrinth of staircases, leaving me disoriented and utterly confused. As we approach the end of a dimly lit corridor, my progress comes to a sudden halt. I turn to face Robin, "Robin. Just let me go." He remains silent, resolute, and continues walking.

He guides me into a cell, then walks back out, firmly shutting the door behind him. I approach the cell's entrance, my hand pressing against the cold metal bars. Robin's figure remains on the other side, and I can't help but laugh, though tinged with bitterness. "Well, this is fun," I remark, my voice filled with irony. He chuckles softly, a sound that echoes through the silence of the cell. I lean my head against the door, closing my eyes, and ask him with a mix of weariness and curiosity, "Why are you here, Robin?" I direct my gaze downwards, focusing on my worn boots. "Don't you have better things to do? Other people to kidnap?" His sigh permeates the air, tinged with regret. "No, no others," he confesses. My laughter holds a hint of bitterness as I reply, "Well, that's nice to know."

I glance back at him, and to my surprise, he has his head in his hands. "I'm sorry," he murmurs, his words laden with remorse. Startled by his apology, I turn around to face him directly. "You're sorry for kidnapping me? Well I don't except you apology" I challenge, my voice tinged with a mix of incredulity and frustration. Robin nods, his gaze meeting mine. "I deserve that, but if I didn't then my dad would have hated me even more," he confesses, the weight of his choices evident in his expression.

Overwhelmed by a whirlwind of emotions, I lower myself to the ground, lying on the cold floor of the cell, and gaze upwards at the ceiling. Words escape my lips almost involuntarily, "Well, my piece of crap dad spent all our money and is dead, so there's that." I steal a glance at Robin, "Well, I guess you knew about the last part," I add with a trace of wryness, my gaze lingering on the scratch on his hand. "Sorry about your hand, but to be fair, you were trying to kidnap me," I remark, a mixture of amusement and irony in my voice. "Aren't we a pair? Crap dads and bad decisions," I reflect, contemplating the shared hardships that have brought us together.

As we find ourselves confined in the dimly lit cell, time loses its grip on us, allowing our conversation to wander through the depths of our souls. Hours pass, and with each passing moment, a newfound connection between us takes root. We unveil the depths of our stories, sharing the weight of our past burdens and the scars etched upon our hearts.

I begin, my voice trembling with vulnerability, "You know, my mother... she was everything to me. Her warmth, her laughter, her gentle touch. I cherished every moment I had with her." My gaze drifts off, lost in memories of a happier time.

A melancholic sigh escapes my lips as I continue, "But when she passed, my father's gambling addiction took hold. I watched helplessly as our fortunes crumbled, and the burden of responsibility fell upon my young shoulders. I never told my sister, I was just keep our family together amidst the chaos."

Robin leans forward, his eyes filled with understanding. "My mother, she was my pillar of strength. Her love and guidance were my solace in a world that seemed determined to bring me down. My father... he despised me, saw me as a disappointment. No matter what I did, I could never live up to his lofty standards. It felt like I was constantly fighting for his approval, but it was a battle I could never win."

We pause, allowing the weight of our shared experiences to linger in the air. The dimness of the cell seems to deepen, casting elongated shadows upon the walls, mirroring the complexities of our intertwined stories.