Bullshit [Stancy]

Chapter 1

Some loves  are never really over: they make an immense speed and then come back. And then the other one, what was it like? Ah, yes, that's it:

If you love someone, set him free, if he's yours he'll come back to you.

Bullshit.

All great fucking bullshit.

Steve sighed, grabbing a stack of tapes and starting to sort them by genre.

Robin just watched, without showing the slightest interest in helping him, occasionally grabbing a few video-cassettes to read the film description on the back.

"Oh, it's romantic, isn't it?"

"It's all bullshit," he sighed again.

He grabbed the first stack of tapes, depositing them in the action movie shelf.

"Steve Harrington" Robin advanced towards him, with that look on her face that made perfectly clear her intention to torment him for the rest of the day. "So lucky and so tormented."

He raised his eyebrows. "Lucky?" He said, walking over to the counter to pick up another stack of boxes as Robin followed him between the shelves empty-handed.

"Well, you," she said, emphasising that you, "could have as many girls as you want. And if it goes wrong with one, you can always start over," 

He arranged the tapes in the romantic films section, turning finally to meet his friend's gaze.

He had heard this speech before. Not too many days ago, in fact. 

"Again?" He said. "You already told me, if I remember correctly."

"Well yes, but..." resumed Robin, with that inquisitive air he now knew well.

"Where are you going with this?" He asked in frustration. There was no point in skirting around it: he knew Robin well enough to know that the best scenario -for himself- was to let her talk and spill the beans about what was on her mind, hoping that once she was over with it something else would catch her attention. Something that didn't involve tormenting him, preferably.

"I think you, Steve, actually know exactly what you want," she began.

Steve turned his gaze to the half-empty shelf in front of him, rolling his eyes.

Robin circled around him like a hawk around its prey, putting herself back in his field of vision.

"Hey, even with your back to me I can feel you're snorting."

"Get to the point, Robin," he said, annoyed. He didn't like talking about Nancy, and would have bet his meagre salary that that was exactly where Robin was going with this.

It was a conversation that had no point. There was absolutely nothing to say.

They had been together, she had eaten his heart for breakfast, sending it down as if it were her favourite cereal, and they had gone their separate ways.

"I think Nancy believes we're together."

He made an effort to remain impassive at her name, putting away the last of the boxes and returning to the counter.

Robin, of course, followed him like a baby duckling follows its mother.

"In short, I thought it appropriate to specify that there is nothing between us".

Steve turned around sharply. "What did you say?"

"Nothing, just that-" Robin seemed to stutter, which was never good. She always, always, had something to say. Therefore, when she was speechless there was definitely something off.