My Angel Has Good Music Taste

Chapter three: A Gentleman And a Little Girl

Chapter three: A Gentleman And a Little Girl

~My Angel Has Good Music Taste~

A/N: Click play to listen to the song for this chapter :D

"Hey," I hear a voice saying. Her voice. I slowly open my eyes and find Robin's head resting on my stomach. "I fell asleep?" I ask her. I remember the bucket lists, but after that... Nothing.

"We both did." She shrugged, like it isn't that much of a deal, but I'm fully aware of the weight of her head. I smile at her, but she doesn't see it. Her gaze flies around the room and lands on the clock on my nightstand. She's up in a second.

"I need to get going."

"You are on foot, remember?" She watches me get up. "Shit," she cusses, "You're right." Then, she looks at me with those big blue, eyes and this cute smile. I shake my head. "Come on, I'll take you home."

She tilts her head to the side, and I breath out heavily. "You sure? I don't mean to be.. in the way." I wave her away, out of my room. "No no, you're not," I say honest. "I would love to take you home." As we walk through the hall, I see Robin looking at some pictures on the wall. She stops in front of one.

I turn my head to follow her gaze and meet the one of my mom. The picture was taken a long time ago, even before I was born. My mother is sitting in one of those old hanging chairs on a veranda. The house behind her is not ours, but the one of my grandparents. On the picture, she is wearing a simple but chic skirt and a blouse. Her long, dirty blonde hair- I got my color of her —was down, over her shoulders. And she was absolutely beautiful.

"That's your mom?" Robin asks me. When I nod, she softly smiles. "You look like her, you know?" I sigh a bit as I look over the picture again. The hair, the eyes, the soft shaped mouth with full lips, the eyelashes and the way she tilts her chin. "Yeah, I know." It's all me.

"Does Cara look like her?" Robin is still staring at the picture. "No," I say, "she got her looks from far away. She looks like my great-great-grandma." My sister has white blonde hair, while mine is almost brown is dad's was actually brown. Her eyes are green, and let me tell you this: having blue eyes is standard in my family. The only thing Cara got from the last two generations is her length and how graceful she still is; we're all giants who can do ballet.

After saying that, I point at a picture a bit further. Robin walks towards it. She stands very close to it, her nose almost touching the picture. I find it amusing how interested she is in my family. "This her?" she asks me. I nod. "Yup. That's Cara."

Robin gasps. "She is very beautiful." I find you more beautiful, I think, but I don't say it. Yes, Cara is a pretty girl, but she's enormous. She hates it that she can't wear heels on a date. I like the fact that Robin's head doesn't even reach my shoulder.

"I guess so," I answer, shrugging.

Robin laughs and walks down the stairs. After looking at the picture some longer, I haste after her. She's waiting in the hall, scratching her wrist. As I come closer, I see a scar that starts just under her thumb and reaches far over her wrist. It looks like it wasn't a clean wound. Like it was been infected.

When she hears my footsteps, her head snaps. She stops scratching, looking busted. I open my mouth to question her, but something in her eyes begs me not to. I softly touch her shoulder before taking a grip on the door handle and opening it. She smiles thankfully and steps through.

As she walks down the path, she takes a grip on my hand. I look at her. "Thank you," she says. I tilt my head. "Thank you for what?" she looks in my eyes and I see her cheeks redden a bit. it's not that obviously, but I see it anyway. I grin.