༉˚*ೃ ᵒ⁸. 𝐎𝐋𝐃-𝐅𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓!
𝐒𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘'𝐃 𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐄 it, they'd cracked the code. Rain should have felt invincible. She should've felt like she could've taken on the world—she and Robin together—and maybe part of her did, that little happy part, tucked away in her chest, but somehow, she just felt worse too. Because now the day was over. And that meant returning home.
The thought of returning home was daunting. So much, that it was making Rain feel sick to her stomach. If she moved too fast, she might throw up. Rainbow rarely bit her nails—she loved painting them pretty colours too much to damage them—but she did now, out of pure nerves. Starcourt and Robin and Steve and this Russian investigation... it was all safe. She didn't feel the same way about her own house anymore.
She chewed her lip just thinking about it. Even as she leant back against the wall—her shoulder-blades tucked against concrete—and Robin pulled down the steel garage-like door, worry twisted at Rain's stomach. She was going to be sick, she was sure of it.
Just as Robin straightened up, dusted off her hands—Steve had already left early, had to run that weird Dustin kid back home—Rain's head tilted towards her. "Hey, Robs, can I stay at your place tonight?" asked Rain in a gentle voice. Her eyes were cast towards the floor, lips pursed in what appeared to be shame. The taller girl turned around, concern drawn across her face and her eyebrows pulled inwards. Before she could answer, Rain continued. "I just— I just don't really want to go home." Her arms were drawn tight around herself. For a second, she looked impossibly small, deceptively vulnerable.
"Oh," said Robin—and, God, just looking at her was a mistake, because she was so very pretty and, yeah, Rain had it bad—"of course." Her black-chipped-nail fingers toyed with the chain necklaces strung around her throat. "It's no problem, Bow."
Rain's heart relaxed, just a little. All that wound up tension—anxiety—wrapped up in her body seemed to... fade away. Now she was just tired. She felt a little like she would cry, but just gave Robs a small smile. "Thank you," she murmured softly. They were some of the last people in the mall, apart from a couple other of store employees closing up shop.
Maybe, if Rain hadn't been in such a predicament, Robin would have said no. Like she did just the other day. Maybe she didn't really want Rainbow to come over at all. And now she was overthinking it. Robin seemed to realise what she was thinking—Rain's face must have conveyed it all—and she was quick to step in. "Seriously," assured Robin. The look of concern on her freckled face made Rain's heart twinge painfully. "Don't worry about it, Princess." And, oh God, there was that nickname again. Pull it together, Rain.
Rain's head lolled over so she could look at Robin straight-on. She smiled a little. "Thanks, Robs. Really. You're a lifesaver." Robin just smiled back, concern and affection tugging at the edges of her expression.
She reached her hand out to Rain. "Come on, I'll take you home."
Rolling her eyes playfully, Rain grasped Robin's hand and let the taller girl pull her away from the wall. Rain's glittery roller-skates were shoved into her backpack, she began to pull them out as they walked through the empty corridors once again, until the two reached the large double doors and the cold, open air. Some hidden part deep inside Rain hoped this would be a regular occurrence. "I'm serious, Robs," she said gently. "Thank you." The smile on her face was sweet and soft, framed by her kinky hair. The wind brushed gently through it.
Robin just smiled back, letting go of Rain's hand as she stepped back to unlock her bike, "I told you, it's no problem. You're welcome over any time, trust me." Rain's lips tipped up higher at the edges at that.
Robin got onto her bicycle, strapping her white helmet over her head. Rain did the same with her sparkly one, clicking the strap beneath her pointed chin and slipping the last of her roller-skates on. Sure, skating everywhere was a bit inconvenient, but it allowed her to glide along with her Walkman headphones over her ears blasting Tears for Fears, while being equally fun. She pushed herself up masterfully and was skating after Robin as soon as the girl had begun to ride.
"Don't leave me behind," warned Rainbow, but did a pretty good job at keeping up with Robin's bike, down the empty, dark streets of Hawkins, Indiana. It was still warm out, though the sun had set, and Rain tossed out her bare arms to take it all in. Even with her parents, even in being stuck in such a dead-end town as this one, this... felt good. Robin laughed at her antics.
"You and your roller-skates," quipped Robin as the both of them rode down the centre of the empty streets. If a car had come around the corner then, it would've undoubtedly hit them.
"Don't be so full of yourself," grinned Rainbow, "I could outskate you any day." She'd slipped on her wrist braces just in case—Rain'd broken her wrist once as a kid doing the same thing, she wasn't risking it again—and wiggled her glittery helmet to make sure it was fully adjusted.
"I bet you could, Princess, but I wouldn't want you to hurt yourself trying." Rain squinted back at the playful comment, bits of the streetlamp light flickering over her face.
"Hurt myself?" exclaimed Rain with a half-glare half-astonished expression, her mouth falling open. "As if I would hurt myself racing you. Watch yourself, Buckley, you might find yourself riding into a tree." She kept up with the girl calmly, her skates gliding along the uneven ground, though she knew Robin was also riding slower for her. "Hey, we should do those stunts in movies where you give me a rope and cycle as fast as you can, and I get tugged along behind." She grinned as her own hair whipped her in the face.
Robs brushed some hair out of her eyes with a shining grin. "We should do that with Steve's car."
"I am not skiing along behind the back of Steve's death trap of a car—he'd literally kill me!" Rain argued wildly. "I mean, number one he's an awful parker, I can only imagine how terribly he drives. Two, a car and a bicycle are two very different things. I mean, the worst I happen with you is I break some bones. Whatever—it's been done before." She held up her right arm as proof. "Steve's car would literally kill me. You know what, Billy Hargrove would probably swerve to hit me if he saw that."
In retort, Robin snorted. "Billy Hargrove's a prick. I don't know how you dealt with having him in your classes." Her eyes glanced towards Rain before flickering up to the dark sky splattered by bright stars. It seemed far away now, the month before that Rain'd stood up in front of the school and taken her diploma, when her mother and father had been cheering and taking photos of her. Oh, how much could change in a month. Her eyes darted briefly towards Robin's pretty face.
"In silence, mostly." She softly reapplied glistening lipgloss to her mouth, feet skating rhythmically on autopilot. "I think I spoke about three sentences to him in the whole year." Rain wondered if Billy knew about her yet. Surely, he was in with the most popular kids of Hawkins. Lucky Steve wasn't anymore, or he and Robin would undoubtedly know the truth by now. Oh God, Rain didn't want to have to deal with Billy fucking Hargrove on top of all of this.
"That's the way to do it. He's a real prick." Robin Buckley looked so very pretty, with that half-smile on her face that quirked up the insides of her eyebrows, and the slight raise of the corner of her mouth.
Rainbow simply nodded in agreement. She grinned back as she skated. "He is. He tried to hit on me once. I closed my locker on his hand." She really did hate him. Robin snorted—had that kind of expression on her fact that looked like she'd say, 'atta girl', but didn't—and before long she was pulling to a stop at a nearby house, and Rain was easing to a slow glide while trying not to take Robin off her feet. She grabbed hold of Robin's arm to twist herself around. Rainbow did her best to walk up the driveway, even though it was sloped, taking it in tiny hops at a time. Robin's house was larger than Rain had expected. It was two stories and a painted pretty shade of pale blue with white and brown wood trim. Much nicer than Rainbow's own home. Robin hadn't talked much about her parents, but Rain hoped they were kinder than her mother and father. "Nice house," she commented as she hopped up onto the lawn masterfully, unstrapping her helmet.
"Thanks," said Robin back. Rain balanced on the front porch as Robin unlocked the door, attempting to get up onto her toes on her roller-skates. Robs turned her head back and grinned at Rain as she unlocked the door and pushed it open. "My parents'll be out. They're at one of those fancy dinner meetings, y'know?"
Rain didn't know—her parents never had any fancy dinner meetings—but she nodded along anyway and began to take off her skates. "That's alright. I'd prefer it that way, anyway." She was wearing a pair of warm, fluffy pink socks underneath, as she tucked her glittery skates under her arms.
"Can't resist having me all to yourself, huh?" teased Robin, letting Rainbow in before shutting the front door behind her. The insides of Robin's house was just as cosy as the outside insinuated, with dark hardwood floors and a warm interior, various picture frames hung up on the walls. There was even a small fireplace that Rain wished she could curl up in front of.
"Oh, shush," Rain jested as she looked around with wide eyes, "I should've asked Steve." Now, Steve was the one person Rain did know about their parents, because she knew Steve's dad was a grade-A asshole and his mom was too busy at any time of the day for him. Maybe having Rain as a roommate would actually do Steve some good. She'd consider it.
Still, Robin grinned back at her and skipped ahead. She too had kicked off her sneakers, and it once again made Rain realise how short she was compared to the other girl. Rain rocked herself onto her toes a bit while clutching her skates behind her back. "Don't be afraid, come on in. My room's upstairs." Robs spun around with her hand on the bannister, gesturing to the carpeted stairs leading upwards.
Rain grinned, and what slipped out of her mouth, "What, taking me to your bedroom already, Buckley?" was certainly not what she'd expected, but then it was passed her lips, and oh fuck. She felt her face heat up and just kind of stared for a moment, internally punching herself. To her surprise, Robin's ears went a bright pink, and she turned her face away before Rain could see if the blush spread to her cheek. Robin's ears heating up when she was embarrassed was a fact that made Rain's chest all warm. She probably would've smiled and found it adorable, if her chest wasn't clenched and she wasn't wide-eyed at what she'd just said. Stupid, stupid Rain.
A grin appeared on Robin's face, and she glanced back at Rain as she began to climb the stairs, "You wish." Rain tried her best to smile, but her mouth parted and her heart was thumping. Getting that kind of answer was even more off-throwing, because, yeah, maybe Rainbow did. In silence—don't say anything else stupid, Rain!—she followed the tall girl up the carpeted stairs, fluffy-socked toes gentle. She mussed up her own hair in an attempt to bring back the kinks and eliminate where the helmet had flattened it.
Robin's bedroom was just as Rain had expected it to be. It was a bit alternative, like the girl herself, bright wallpaper and posters of bands Rain had barely heard of plastered up across the wall. The 'The Cure' poster did make her smile, though. She had vinyl records lined up across her shelf, because of course she did, and an old record player on a side-table. It was a bit messy—Robin kicked some clothes into her cupboard quickly—but warm and cosy. Rain just grinned. So very Robin. "I like your room," she said, walking over to inspect the different records. No Tears for Fears in sight. "I'm getting you a Tears for Fears record for your birthday." It was a crime not having one.
"Absolutely no way. I refuse to have that in my room." Rain glanced up with a wide grin, looking back at Robin Buckley who had a similar kind of expression, though she was trying to hide it. She was leant up against her desk, a long leg propped up. Robin having legs that long were a crime. Rain's eyes skated over the girl briefly: her cropped hair, the small smirk she wore, the black bracelets at her wrist—Rain's good Christian mother would probably die if she saw the alternative-ness of those—the crinkles in her work uniform, the pen sketches on her bright red sneakers, and the eyeliner under her eyes, smudged a little. She was kind of everything Rain had ever wanted.
"You're so lame," jested Rain. Her finger danced across the top of Robin's dresser. She had that easy, lilting smile she got whenever she was around the other girl. "They're good."
"Fuck no," laughed Robin, and God, Rain's mother would have a fit about that too. It felt good, somehow. Like Robin was good.
Rain snorted in disapproval and skipped over to Robin's bed, throwing herself down onto it without asking first. It was much softer than her own—but not in a bad way—and her body sunk down into it. Like a marshmallow. "Fuck yes," was what she combatted with, because she liked this, the easy teasing. It felt normal. Her head rolled to the side, looking at Robin with that grin on her face, as the other girl moved over to her. Rain giggled a little as Robin tossed herself down, nearly kicking her in the face. Her legs splayed out before Rain's gaze, right in front of her nose. Rain curled her body around so she was faced with Robin's bright red sneakers that she always wore to work. She'd noticed the doodles of blue and black pen on them before, but not up close.
"Boobs?" snickered Rain, inspecting the drawing graffitied on the converse, "Really?" There was a bright grin on her face as her eyes scanned the other words and doodles covering the red canvas.
Noticing where Rainbow was looking, Robin flushed and shrugged her shoulders. "Yeah." Her flushed face made Rain want to giggle. It seemed a little like she wanted to pull her foot away, but Rain was much too invested in flicking her eyes over the various drawings—breasts, faces, scribbles, disjointed sentences or quotes—though Robin looked stricken.
Rain just snorted because Robin really was such a dork. "You're embarrassed?" Rain asked, watching the other girl's face now.
Robin shook her head, "No, I have them on my shoes, why would I be embarrassed?" Yet her cheeks were still a little pink, her eye contact a little jittery.
A grin overtook Rain's features. "You're embarrassed about talking about them to me?" That was ridiculous, of course. Why the hell should Robin be embarrassed? To further her point, Robin's cheeks flushed red, the colour tinged her ears. Rain's mouth opened and then shut again, her brows furrowed in playful confusion. It looked like she was struggling to find the words. "Why? We all have them." To prove her argument, Rain placed her hands over her own breasts. "Well, women I mean." That only seemed to make the situation worse.
Robin's eyes darted down to where Rain's hands were, and she swallowed, nodding, "Yeah, of course." Her face seemed to flush an even brighter pink and her skin must have been hot to the touch. She seemed to drag her eyes back up to Rainbow's face—looking a little guilty, a little embarrassed. Robs seemed to need to find something to preoccupy her hands with to spare herself the awkwardness, and brushed her fingers over her lips before raising them to fiddle with some clips in her hair, the black spikey cuffs on her wrist stark against her pale skin.
Rain suddenly felt a little out of place, like she'd done something wrong. A brief silence passed over them both, where Rainbow decided she was being much too forward about this whole thing. When she tilted her head back towards Robin, the other girl was already looking at her. "Robs... can I... borrow some clothes?" she asked in a voice slightly lowered, a hint of shame there. "I didn't bring any, and I really don't want to go back to my house." She hated the way she sounded when she was talking about her home. Like it was something that scared her.
Robin Buckley blinked a few times before nodding, "Oh, yeah, of course." She was good in that way. As Robin got up off the bet to fetch spare pyjamas from her cupboard, Rain began to play with a Band-Aid plastered over her knee, from one of her many roller-skating stacks—hey, you can be a master at roller-skating and still fall!—and peeked at the healing graze underneath. The scab was healing well enough. She sat up as Robin returned to the bedside, a small bundle in her arms.
They both turned their backs on each other, and got changed. Rain briefly wondered if her parents would worry that she hadn't come home, as she lifted off her Scoops Ahoy shirt and pulled on Robin's 'The Smiths' t-shirt. It was too long for her, hanging around her hips, but it was cosy. Rain decided that her parents probably weren't worrying. She turned around when she was finished, fluffing her hair back up, as Robs did the same.
Robin stared at Rain wearing her own pyjamas for a moment, the pants much too long for the short girl, swimming in Robin's clothing. Rain looked up at her innocently with those dark, doe eyes, concerned that she looked silly. Then Robin blinked and forced her head away, becoming suddenly very interested in the chipping black polish on her nails.
Well, Robs' pyjamas were comfortable, even if they were too large, and so Rain sighed and smiled as she climbed back on Robin's bed, cross-legged. "Wanna put on a movie?" Robin suggested, joining her, running a careless hand through her short hair. Her nail polish was chipped—Rain had the sudden urge to take Robin by the hands and repaint them for her. The TV in Robin's room was rather small, but Rainbow didn't even have one in her own bedroom, so she was brimming with excitement.
Rain nodded eagerly. "Show me your favourites," she persisted, peering over Robin's shoulder to look at the box cases of VHS tapes stocked up under the TV. Most of them, Rain had never seen before. In fact, barely any of them were in colour at all, or seemed to be from this decade. "A fan of old black-and-white movies, Robs? Really?" It wasn't the type of films Rain had pinned Robin for. More of an alternative, horror genre type of gal, she would have thought. But there was a smile on her lips as she sorted through the different cases of films. The box arts were each colourful and bright, a classic style for the era. Rain spread them out on the duvet out in front of her. The Apartment. Roman Holiday. Sabrina. The Hidden Fortress. Les Enfants du Paradis. A couple of other French or European movies she couldn't quite place.
"What?" said Robin defensively. "You probably like... Grease and Sixteen Candles." There wasn't anything venomous in her tone, just a judgemental jest.
"Try The Breakfast Club and Footloose," said Rain absent-mindedly, which, okay, wasn't all that different, but she felt like making the distinction nonetheless. "Also, yeah, Grease." Robin snickered a little, at which Rain raised a sharp eyebrow and kept examining the stack of films in front of her. "You can't go wrong with Grease," argued Rain as she flipped through the movies. "Hot 50's babes and leather jackets. It's the jackpot." She hoped that Robin thought she was referring to John Travolta, and not Olivia Newton-John. Bow's eyes narrowed at Robin's film selection, admiring their black-and-white photographs. "These are all from, what... the 40s...? 50s, 60s?"
Robin Buckley shrugged. She pushed her long fingers through her hair casually—the rings glinting. "Yeah, I like old films." Rain had only ever seen a few—The Wizard of Oz, Psycho, Night of the Living Dead—but that was about it.
Her hands plucked out the French film, Les Enfants du Paradis, that sported colourful blue box-art with grey photographs. "What's this one?" Rainbow asked as she turned it over in her hand, her eyes darting up to Robin's.
"Children of Paradise," explained Robin. "It's all in French."
"I can't believe you watch foreign French movies," grinned Rain, holding the box cover in her hands. "Could you get any more cliché, Buckley?" It was said with a teasing lilt, her body tilting a little towards the other girl, her hands firmly resting in her lap.
"I've told you, I'm fluent!" argued Robin back, a grin crinkling her features. Rain wanted—
"Tell me something in French," Rain challenged, giggling a little as she drew the fluffy blanket up over her knees and bunched it in her hands under her chin, smiling brightly. She felt more like herself than she had in days. Maybe Robin could teach her French, too.
For a second Robin seemed to think about it, her eyes glancing up at her ceiling, before her lips formed the words of, "Tu me rends heureux." Oh, French sounded nice coming from Robin's mouth. It had never sounded so nice to Rain before. "Tes yeuz, j'en rêve jour et nuit."
She let the words hang in the air for a moment, watching Rain, before Rainbow implored, "What does it mean?" Her eyes were rounded and doe-like and innocent, lips a little parted with a smile. She'd never learned an extra language in high school, but now she wished she had.
The way Robin looked at her in that moment—really looked at her—made butterflies rise in her stomach and her face go a little soft and her heart clench up, mouth parted, eyes so very large and gentle, warmth in her chest; Robin looked at her like Rain was beautiful.
"It means you're a rat," Robin dissolved after a moment, "and it's lame that your parents named you after Rainbow Dash."
Rain let out an embarrassing squeal of a laugh and launched the pillow at the head of the bed at Robin. "My parents did not name me after Rainbow Dash, and you love my name, Buckley, you wish you had a name as badass as mine. Also, I'm a damn cute rat. So, fuck you!" She launched another pillow, that one which landed and hit Robin in the face.
Robin, in retaliation, grabbed the pillow that had struck her and swung it down at Rain, connecting it with her thigh and knee. "I never said you being a rat didn't make you cute, but you're a rat nonetheless."
Rain didn't take that as a compliment. "You're a prick, Buckley!" She wrestled the pillow off Robin with a grin. "A fiend! Teach me how to call Steve a rat in French, and only then I'll forgive you." The cushion ended up sailing across the room and landing on the floor.
"Never," combatted Robin with a proud, victorious grin, "that's my trick!" Her hair was messed up, falling in dark blonde strands around her face and strung across the top of her head from where Rain had struck her with the pillow.
"A rat," scoffed Rain, "I am not a rat. Could a rat ace her English exams? Definitely not. So, fuck you." But she was grinning, still, despite it all. Her fingers quickly tucked some of her hair behind her own ear and she sat back down on her knees. Rain's eyes glanced back down at the tape. "Alright, let's put it on." She tossed the VHS case towards Robin, who caught it quickly out of the air.
Her eyebrows raised. "You really want to watch a French movie?"
Eagerly, Rain nodded, clasping her hands in her lap. She'd never watched a foreign movie before. "Yeah, as long as there are subtitles. I'm not quite as multilingual as you." But she sat perched on the bed with a smile and her hair loose and kinky, her dark eyes bright and sparkling. The grin that overcame Robin's face was enough to melt Rainbow's heart.
"Alright," said Robin, getting up off her overly soft bed. Rainbow still couldn't quite understand how the bed was so soft—she'd thought of Robin as someone who'd probably enjoy something with harder material, being an athlete and all—and she sunk further down into it. Robs popped the VHS tape into the telly and clicked it on. She moved over to the door to close it and flicked off the light, and sat back down beside Rain, so close their shoulders were less than an inch from touching, brushing as Rain readjusted her crossed legs. Through the darkness, the first few frames of the old movie crackled to light—that was the thing about old films, everything crackled—delightfully, and Rain saw the grey light cast over Robin's pretty face.
The movie was incredible. She could see why it was one of Robin's favourites. French was such a delicate language that it seemed to roll off each of the actors' tongues, it sounded a little like music.
And this was good. It was a good distraction from it all. And it was good being with Robin. She felt like she didn't have to pretend, here. Not like she did when she was at home, or out and about in Hawkins. This was just Robin Buckley, and she was okay.
Even when Rain rested her head in the crook between Robin's neck and shoulder, she thought, this is alright, though her heart was beating so fast and her chest was filled with that warm, giddy, tight feeling. For a second, she thought she'd heard Robin's breath hitch, maybe her heartbeat speed up against where her pulse thrummed against Rain's skull—and maybe Rain hoped that Robin's hand would inch over to where Rain's hand was propped up right beside hers, but that was too much to wish for.
She would choose this over going home any day.
And so they sat there in mostly-silence, with Rain's breath on Robin's neck and their eyes—mostly—trained on the grey light of the TV as its French dialogue and crackling white noise filled up the bedroom, and Rain discovered that old French movies had an art to them that simply couldn't be replicated anywhere else. When the movie ended, they were left just sitting there staring at the screen, Rain's lips parted and Robin's hair grazing her forehead.
"Holy shit," said Rainbow after a moment. "You've got me hooked on French movies, now, Robs." Her head was still resting on Robin's shoulder, not flinching away from it this time, and her kinky hair unravelled over the taller girl's neck. Her eyes glanced up so she could look at Robin's face—the sharp angles, the soft curves—and found Robin smiling back at her.
Robin shifted away just a little so she could lean down and reach the pile of movies. "I have more, if you wanna look at them." She rifled through the films and chucked a few more on the bed in front of Rainbow, inviting her to do so. A bright smile graced itself on Rain's pretty face.
"The Passion of Joan of Arc?" She flipped over the case and her eyes widened. "1920? God, Robs, your old movie collection goes back." There was no malice in her words, just observation. She'd definitely never seen a film from that far back—it had to have been silent.
"I have some more modern ones too," replied Robin a little defensively, going to stand up to reach for her movie stack once again.
Before she could leave the bed, Rain shook her head and said quickly, "No, I want to watch it."
That seemed to confuse Robin, who scrunched up her eyebrows and nose. "Why?"
"Why? Because you have it in your movie collection, why wouldn't I want to watch it?" She examined the back of the box, taking in the black-and-white photographs and brief summary.
"It's sad," Robin warned.
"I know the story of Joan of Arc, Robs," murmured Rain back, her legs curled up and folded over Robin's own. Robin's side was warm and comforting. "C'mon, let's watch it! It can't be that bad." She rested her chin on Rob's shoulder, peering up at her face with wide, innocent eyes.
Robin grinned down at her. "Whatever you say, Princess."
༉*ೃ༄
𝐎𝐊𝐀𝐘, 𝐒𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐘𝐁𝐄 Rain had cried—but that totally wasn't a fair judgement because Robin had cried a little too—because the movie was sad despite being entirely silent and Robin needing to translate every French subtitle that appeared after each scene. She was still sniffling when the film flicked off and Robin stood to turn the off the television.
The taller girl snickered as she saw Rain sat in the same, unmoving position. "Are you done?" she jested, grinning over at Rain's teary face. Of course she'd tease her over it.
"You cried too!" Rain whined in retaliation, covering her face. Robin just snickered, making Rainbow flush. She kept her hands clasped over her face, hoping Robs would leave her alone, but she was grinning under her palms. She heard Robin just snort in response. When Robin moved over to the doorway, Rain dropped her hands and glanced up at Robin. "Hey, next time we're watching Grease together," she said as Robin turned the light off for good this time. "No arguments." Through the dimly lit room, she caught Robin rolling her eyes, but with a grin, as the girl walked back across the room to hop into the opposite side of the bed.
As Rain drew the duvet up around her face, and Robin dragged her own body under the blankets, Robin said, "Grease seems so overrated. Like the shit Steve would watch." Rainbow's mouth dropped open at that, because she did not want her movie taste to be compared to Steve's awful one.
"That is not true. Are you telling me you've never seen Grease before?" When the edge of Robin's lips tilted up in a slight, sheepish smile, and her eyes stared guiltily at Rain, Rain exclaimed loudly. "Oh my God, we are watching it next time!" grinned Rainbow so widely that it was a surprise that her cheeks weren't hurting. She was beaming over the top of the duvet clutched at her face. "We have to bring back the 50s style."
"Whattt? We're 30 years late."
"Obviously, but have you seen their fashion? Their colour palettes? Their hair? I'm telling you, Robs, the style was made for me. Are you saying I wouldn't look great all pinned-up?" She tossed her arms back dramatically, staring up about the ceiling and thinking about Olivia Newton-John and her black jacket and tight leather pants at the end of the film. "And the songs in Grease are really good," she pleaded, making a faux-sad pouty face at Robin. "You'd really like it." She was using her puppy-dog eyes and frown, though she doubted Robin could properly see her through the dark, practically begging at this point.
"It's not my kind of style!" argued Robin, which wasn't very telling because she didn't seem like the kind of girl who'd be into vintage movies either.
Rolling over to face Robin, Rainbow's face was beaming. "You'll enjoy it!" exclaimed Rain excitedly, shaking Robin's arm by the wrist. "I promise. I have the VHS tape in my room, I'll bring it next time. Trust me, you'll have the songs stuck in your head for days. I can't believe you've never seen it!"
Robin laughed giddily, "It just doesn't seem like something I'd ever watch!"
"Oh, yeah, I forgot, a The Cure gal." She poked Robin's shoulder with a sharp finger. At that, Robin rolled her eyes again with one of her opened-mouthed—trying to hide a grin—expressions of faux shock, casting her eyes away from Rain.
"There is nothing wrong with The Cure!" Robin defended as she pulled the duvet over her own figure. In the darkness, Rain could see her short hair spilled out over her pillow. Rainbow's grin shone through the night.
Her bare foot kicked Robin's shin. "Mmm. Only something wrong with music snobs." The tiredness was beginning to grip her now—all the exhaustion built up over the past few days, of her parents finding out, over fighting with Robin—and she yawned a little. "And don't even try to tell me you're not," Bow spoke in a yawn, "because you totally are, and you know it."
"Oh, shush," snorted Robin, kicking Rain's ankle. "I'm not at Jonathan Byers level yet."
Rain grinned, "Are too." It was easy to see Robin's silhouette through the darkness, hair hanging down a little in front of her face. The taller girl shoved her a bit on the shoulder, settled down on her side. For a while, they chattered back and forth: mindless things, like their favourite colour, their favourite books, and what movies they were hoping to see. Their voices were soft in the night.
But when it all went quiet, the thoughts began to seep back in. Rainbow's eyes traced patterns on Robin's ceiling and thought about how soon she was probably going to lose her home, lose her friends. Robin and Steve would never want to talk to her again. Surely, any university offers would be revoked. Hawkins would never let a lesbian author publish a book. That was unheard of—unheard of!—here. Never, never, never, she thought to herself. And she oughtn't have been ashamed, but she was, some part of her that she hated knew she should be ashamed. It was why she didn't like the nights anymore. Too much silence, too many thoughts.
They'll leave you, she knew. They'll all leave you once they find out. She thought about the gently breathing Robin beside her in the dark, who she thought of most moments of the day, and knew she'd hate Rainbow too. God, so stupid. Her eyes wanted to squeeze shut but instead she just looked straight up at the immaculate ceiling and found herself wanting a real home.
She was drawn out of her thoughts when the mattress shifted. Rain tried to stop the flush of warmth that burst through her when Robin rolled over in the small bed and lay her shoulder on Rain's. "Are you sure you're going to be okay?" she asked in that devastatingly low, pretty voice—and no— no, Rain was not going to be okay because Robin was much too close to her, and she was beautiful and warm, and Rain was supposed to be trying to pretend to be straight for a while.
Rain just nodded, pulling her lips in a thin line and dropping her head to the side, landing it on Robin's broad shoulder. "Yeah," she whispered, "Thanks Robs," and she swore she saw Robin's eyes dart down to her mouth, but brushed it off because she refused to trick herself into falling for a straight girl again and Robin was obviously just concerned. Rain's heart gave a painful tug.
Oh God, she wanted to cry, to cry, and it made her feel pathetic and weak and powerless. Rainbow blinked slowly a few times, clearing any of the tears threatening to catch in her long lashes. She watched over Robin's face.
"Hey, you sing—don't you?" murmured Rain, because she thought she'd heard Robin sing before in her music class when she was passing by. A light flush of pink danced across Robin's cheeks and ears, drowning out the freckles, and she moved her face back from Rain's slightly. Rain's face went hot as well.
"Yes," Robin whispered back through the darkness. A moment of gentle silence passed between them, where each girl seemed to carefully inspect the other's features: from their pretty lips to their curved noses to their cheekbones to their gentle eyes. It was warm under the duvet, their body heat pressed right up against each other. Robin's bed wasn't all that big.
The thoughts made her feel oh so lonely, like she had no one else left in the world. She'd never wanted to feel that way. Bow looked rather upset suddenly, like she might cry. She'd pursed her lips and blinked a few times, her long lashes grazing her cheeks. Robin knew she was holding back tears. When she spoke, her voice was soft, a bit quavering, "Can you sing to me now?" Rain looked at Robin softly. "I could really use a song."
This seemed to take Robin by surprise—maybe no one had asked her to sing to them freely before; maybe she just didn't expect such a thing from Rain—and her eyes widened and the pink on her cheeks grew even brighter. She tried to hide her flushing face by looking away momentarily. Rain wondered if she'd done something wrong: if she was being much too obvious.
Then Robin murmured back, under the cover of darkness, "Of course." Her voice was gentle, a bit hesitant perhaps, but in no way demeaning. Perhaps she didn't sing to many people. Let alone girls in her bed.
The song that she sang was one that was rather un-Robin-like, which probably meant she thought Rain would like it. That made Rain's heart soothe. Her voice was soft and gentle—Rain wished she'd asked for Robin to sing to her sooner—and a little husky at the same time, very Robin. It was like Rainbow was putting together all the different pieces that were Robin Buckley.
"A man in my shoes runs a light
And all the papers lied tonight
But falling over you
Is the news of the day
Angels fall like rain,
And love, love, love, love is all of heaven away."
Robin's voice was gentle—she'd never heard the song in such a way, Rain thought she might prefer it to the original—and soothing. There was something calming about it, that made Rain close her eyes and lose herself a little bit in it, body sinking into the soft mattress of Robin Buckley's bed. It was very warm. She knew Robin was watching her, faintly aware. She felt the other girl's breath on her face.
"Inside you, the time moves
And she don't fade
The ghost in you
She don't fade
Inside you, the time moves
And she don't fade."
"It's pretty," commented Rain as she closed her eyes and tried very hard not to let tears fall from her eyes as she drifted into sleep, "Really, really pretty." Robin just hummed a little and continued to sing, her voice gentle and soft. Rain smiled a little, despite herself, a sad, teary kind of smile. She was still thinking, pretty, when she drifted off into sleep.
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um, robin, sing to me
my dream is to also have a homo-romantic film sesh with a 'friend'
i LOVE writing these two bc they're just so soft, they're my sapphic dream
every description i ever write of robin is me projecting my feelings about her. i can't write her in my other fics because it turns out so gay even from the perspective of characters who're already dating someone else.
ft. one of my favourite 80s bands, the psychedelic furs. they snapped with their songs.
word count: 6,725
19.06.2020.