Chapter Text
The music is loud, the song’s thumping bass echoing in her chest. Robin can hear people shouting to be heard over the music, but she can’t make out any of the words. She glances behind her to see if Gaius or Olivia is following, but it seems she’s lost them somewhere between the foyer and the kitchen of this house. Still, she promised she’d get drinks, so she’s on a (solo) mission now.
She pushes deeper into the house, past clumps of drunk partygoers (a good sign for booze) and spies the kitchen island laden with snacks and tepid cans of beer. She grabs a six-pack ring discreetly, not that anyone standing near the booze is sober enough to notice, and heads back the way she came.
There’s a crowd gathered near the basement, which seems promising, so she heads down the stairs. People are hanging over the railing, onlookers to a game of pool, but there’s no sign of Gaius or Olivia in the crowded room. Her pool game isn’t too shabby, so she makes a mental note to come back later that night once she’s a little less sober.
Nowhere to go but up, she thinks, easily spotting the stairs leading to the second floor. She doesn’t even know whose house this is, but there are frames on the wall, some of them askew from people bumping into them.
She’s distracted by the pictures, noticing a split second too late the man tripping over his feet on the stairs and falling toward her. She steps back reflexively and misses the previous step. She feels white-hot panic, her fingers clenching tightly in the holes of the six-pack ring, and braces for impact.
Suddenly, she collides with something sturdy and not at all sharp-edged like stairs. There are hands on her shoulders, keeping her steady.
She finally hears someone clearly over the music. “Vaike, watch it! You nearly took this girl out.”
The man—Vaike—looks vaguely confused, half-holding the railing and half-eyeing the beer that’s spilled over his fingers. “Whoa, sorry ‘bout that!”
His words are a little slurred, but he seems bright-eyed. He leans a little closer to focus on her. “Say, you’re kinda cute. What do you say to getting out of here with ol’ Teach?”
She rolls her eyes, but the man who caught her, conveniently still holding her, jumps in. “Leave her alone,” he deadpans, shooing Vaike down the stairs.
The man who saved her sets her upright. “Are you okay?”
She turns to answer and feels the words get stuck in her throat. He’s tall for one, but not too tall, and his features are sharp and regal-looking, with kind eyes and messy hair. He seems too handsome to be real, the kind of handsome you don’t really see in real life. And despite all that, he seems familiar, though she’s sure she would have remembered a face like his.
He leans in closer and repeats the question, thinking she must not have heard him.
“I…yeah, I’m fine. Thank you.”
“I’m glad.” He smiles, and of course, it’s a great smile. “I’m really sorry about Vaike. He always gets too drunk at these things.”
“We all overdo it sometimes,” she shrugs.
He motions to the six-pack in her hand. “Are you planning on overdoing it? I know we’re celebrating but…”
“Oh!” She shakes her head. “These aren’t all for me, don’t worry. I was looking for my friends, but I can’t seem to find them.”
“Well, I’m happy to help you look,” he says, motioning for her to continue the rest of the way up the stairs.
She hadn’t even noticed they hadn’t moved yet, too caught up in making conversation with this stranger. His offer is enticing. It’s the first win of the season for the Shepherds—the first win of her last year of college—and though she’s not a diehard sports fan, the spirit of revelry is contagious. She wants to make this year count, and something about this chance encounter with a handsome stranger gives her a good feeling about the rest of it.
“Are you sure?” she asks. “I don’t want to keep you from your own friends.”
He grins. “I’m hanging out with my friend right now.”
She gives him a look and can’t help but laugh. She supposes that when you look like that, you can get anyone to be your friend. “Well, when you put it that way, how can I refuse?”
“You definitely can,” he clarifies quickly. “Just so you know.”
Yes, she knew she had a good feeling about him. “It sounds like you’re backing out,” she teases.
“Never.” His smile reaches his eyes. He reaches to pull a beer off the ring, then a second, and pops the tabs open. He hands one to her.
“I’m Chrom, by the way.”
“Robin.”
“Robin,” he repeats like he’s committing it to memory. He raises his beer. “To new friends?”
She bumps her beer against his with a smile. “To new friends.”