Endless: REWRITTEN

7. Jade

Robin

I swear, my brother is the most useless person to me ever. When I asked him what I should do for my date, he just shrugged, asking me to look up ideas on the internet. Most of the time, his nonchalance doesn't bother me, but he could at least pretend to care. In fact, for the past couple of days, my patience has been wearing thin with him. I don't say anything because I know he's still upset over what happened and he has a right to be, but sometimes I overthink his attitude towards me, and it's not good for my mental health.

Sometimes, I want to move out and just exit his life like he wants me to.

So I ended up on Pinterest and pretty much every idea alluded to a picnic. It was an interesting concept, but then I must've spend hours deciding what type of food to prepare. Once I thought myself into a headache, I just decided on something basic: chicken salad sandwich. Simple, elegant, and not a million and one things can go wrong. Then I realized that I had nowhere to actually hold the picnic. Insert another hour of pondering when I remembered this hill in Riverside Park that I always used to sleep on when I was a teen or when I just got out of prison and I was homeless for a few months.

The plan was going swimmingly. Natalie seems impressed with the idea and the food. Now... conversation. It comes so easy to us every other time except now, and I can tell that we're both nervous as shit. As Mordecai would say, this is the perfect time to tell her the truth about everything, but I know she'd be running for the hills (literally) if I confessed. But the other half of me wants her to know what she's getting into.

"The stars are beautiful tonight," she notes, staring up at the sky.

Thank God she initiated it. "Yeah, they are. Do you see your sign?"

"My what?"

"Your star sign."

She snorts. "You don't believe in that crap, do you?"

I gasp. "It's not crap. It's actually very accurate. And just because you said that, I think you're a Libra."

She laughs. "Close, but no cigar."

"Well, Scorpios hate me, so Virgo?" She rolls her eyes. "I knew it. You fit the bill perfectly. I'm an Aries."

"I didn't ask."

"You didn't have to, I offered." I nudge her gently. "When's your birthday?"

"September 10th. Why, are you going to get me something?" Her tone is playful, and it makes me grin.

"Yeah, what do you want?"

"Robin," she chastises while laughing. "That's three months from now!"

"You don't think we're going to be together three months from now?" She looks away from me at that question, still smiling but sheepishly now. "I want to be."

"It should be illegal to be this cheesy," she snorts. Taking a leap of faith, I gingerly take one of her hands in mine, and kiss the back of her hand.

"Lock me up, then." Not literally, though; that's not an experience I want to relive.

She turns and looks at me again, a light blush dusting her face. It's one of those moments where it feels like my chest is about to give out, and her aura is inviting me closer. Is this a good time to kiss her? No? Yes? Because I really want to. So fucking bad. Experimentally, I gently cradle the side of her face with my hand.