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August 2, 2002
“Please,” your best friend begged.
You shook your head. “I can’t, you know the rules.”
“Please, just tell me the first letter. I need to know.”
You looked up at the faintly glowing letters above her head, their graceful strokes spelling out Dominic. You shook your head again, “Haven’t you listened to any of the warnings? Something bad always happens if someone tells you your soulmate’s name.”
She flopped back onto the floor, spread eagle. “I know, but how bad can it be? I just want to know the first letter!”
You slumped, giving up. “Fine. It starts with a D.”
She sat up, eyes wide. “D? What names start with D?”
You shrugged, looking at the floor. Something already felt wrong, as if the magic of having a soulmate had left the air. You glanced up at the name above her head, seeing that it glowed less than before. “Can you stop pushing? Just wait for the day you meet him.”
She shook her head violently, practically bouncing in her position on the floor. “I can’t stop thinking about him! What color are his eyes? His hair? I want to know everything! Don’t you ever wonder what your man is like?”
You stared at her in disbelief, “No.” Your hands were picking at the carpet now, nervous. The air in the room had gotten colder, and it seemed like invisible forces were screaming at you to end this conversation before it got worse. You just wanted to go to sleep before something slipped.
“Really? Nothing?”
You shook your head again.
She grabbed your hand, “Come on,” she laughed and pulled you to your feet.
“What are you doing?” You stumbled after her. She dragged the two of you into the bathroom. “What do you see?”
You looked at the mirror. “Our reflections.” You deadpanned.
She groaned, “Look deeper.”
You stared at the mirror, only seeing her excited, anticipating face and your bored one. “Nothing. Maybe I just don’t have a soulmate.”
Her smile disappeared and she looked up at the space above your head. “No, it’s right there. Timothy.”
You gasped, “Marie!”
She realized her mistake immediately, “No! No it’s not that, I—“ She looked down at her feet. “I’m sorry, (Y/N)... I wasn’t thinking.”
What she hadn’t realized was the way the air felt, it was cold, impersonal. The invisible forces were louder than ever before, wailing, screaming, screeching. You covered your ears. “I...” You began, your voice echoing in your own ears. “I’m going home. Sorry Marie...”
She had tears in her eyes, “No... I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said...” But you were already pulling out your cellphone and dialing your parents, hands shaking.
August 3, 2002
When you woke up in your own bed, you knew there was something wrong. The chill was gone, replaced with a feeling of... nothing. It was like a void had come in and sucked out every ounce of feeling and warmth that your room usually radiated. You remembered last night and your interrupted sleepover with Marie. You pulled on some normal clothes and stumbled downstairs, already smelling the breakfast being cooked.
“Morning,” You mumbled, wiping sleep out of your eyes.
“Morning, baby. Did you sleep okay?” Your mom asked, setting a plate of pancakes down on the counter.
You nodded in response, focused on getting to the counter and eating the pancakes sitting there, the butter that had been spread over them was just beginning to melt. The news was playing in the background, and through your tired ears you could hear a report about a neighborhood shooting close by.
You picked up the fork and knife and began awkwardly cutting the pancakes. You were still working on the technique, you were only seven after all. Your parents often praised you for your autonomy and how you were smart and capable of figuring things out by yourself, even at a young age. Your dad came into the kitchen and whispered something to your mom, his expression serious. She clapped a hand to her mouth, tears threatening to fall down her face.
You looked at them in confusion, “What?”
Your dad walked around the counter and took your small hands in his big ones, “(Y/N)... after you left last night... a bad guy with a gun broke into Marie’s house.”
You remembered the cold feeling. His warm hands felt like stone now. The pancakes were no longer appetizing, the buttery warmth gone. “Her and her parents... they didn’t make it.”
Maybe it was because you were seven and didn’t understand grief. Or maybe it was because you had known that something like this would happen ever since his name had escaped her lips. Or maybe it was because you were a terrible person, but you didn’t cry. Instead, you just pulled your dad into a big embrace, letting his natural warmth push away the cold feeling in your heart.
August 20, 2002
Tim
Tim looked in the mirror. It was late, but the night was just beginning. He had a role to play, the act of the genius, charming son of the Drake’s. Which he was, but this required more fancy suits and smiling than he was accustomed to. Still, it was only a little work, the press didn’t expect much from an eight year old.
He pressed the comb to his scalp and drew it back, watching as the images in the mirror distorted. He saw feet walking slowly, black dresses and black suits. He saw three coffins, all next to each other and the blurry image of a tear falling onto a rose petal.
He stumbled away from the mirror, comb clattering to the floor. His parents had always said that he had a soulmate, her name was written above his head, and that one day he’d start seeing glimpses of her life, but he’d never believed them. Tim moved closer to the mirror, wanting to see more, understand more.
He saw a blurry image of a young girl, about his age, maybe younger. “Timothy.” She said. Then he saw a gunshot and a kind looking man holding a separate young girl in his arms. The images pieced themselves together in his mind, which was built for puzzles. This wasn’t a puzzle, this was a tragedy.
He shook his head. He had a gala to attend, his parents to please. If he thought about the girl in the glass then he’d think to deeply... he’d have to accept the meaning of those images.
February 14, 2007
You were twelve when you met him. Not Timothy, though.
The door opened and a tall boy with caramel hair and warm brown eyes shuffled through, following him was the Vice Principal.
“Hello, class. This is Dominic Park, your new classmate. He’s from Arizona.” She introduced him. But you were too busy looking at the space above his head, the black letters of Marie written there, burnt looking. You wondered if he knew.
Dominic waved awkwardly at the class. “You can take a seat.” The teacher coaxed him. He looked around the room, not taking long to realize that there were no extra seats. You stood, wanting to make an impression on him.
“Here, you can have my seat. I’ll go get one from Mrs. Smith.” The teacher smiled warmly at your offer, clearly pleased by your kindness. This was middle school, after all. No one was nice. You noticed Dominic’s eyes flash up to the space above your head, only to show a clear disappointment. You couldn’t agree more. Dominic seemed... perfect. And you were stuck with Timothy, the guy you hadn’t even met yet but already hated. It was his fault Marie was dead, he was the one that existed in the first place.
You returned to the class with the extra chair, finding Dominic already sitting in your seat. You gave him a small smile and sat down, attention returning to the lesson. He leaned over, “Hi.” He whispered.
“Hi.” You returned, pretending to still be listening to the lesson even though the caramel-haired boy had your full attention. “I’m (Y/N)
He grinned, “It’s nice to meet you.”
You nodded, “What class do you have next?”
“Uh,” he began, pulling out a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket. “Science with... how do you even pronounce that?”
You chuckled as you looked at the paper, “No one knows, we just call him Mr. C. You can sit with me in that class too, if you want. I have him next period.”
Dominic’s eyes lit up, “That sounds great, (Y/N).”
You glanced up at the space above his head, seeing your best friend’s burnt name. Dominic shifted in his seat, “Yeah... I...”
You looked back at him, confused. “What?”
“Your probably wondering why it’s burnt...”
You shook your head, “No, I think out of everyone here, I’m the one to know why it’s burnt the most.”
His eyebrows furrowed, “What does that mean?”
You sighed, “I’ll tell you after class.” You mumbled. Tears were threatening your eyes now, but you held them back. This year was supposed to be different, you weren’t going to break down in tears the second anyone mentioned her, you were going to move on.
After class, Dominic stopped you, looking confused still. “(Y/N)?”
You wrung you hands, “Five years ago...” A tear fell down your cheek and you quickly wiped it away. “I was having a sleepover with my best friend. She asked me what her soulmate’s name was... I didn’t tell her, just the first letter. I didn’t think it would do any harm. Not long after that she accidentally said the name of my soulmate... Timothy.” You breathed out his name like it was poison. “That night, shooters broke in and killed her and the rest of her family.”
Dominic looked at you in shock, then he looked up at the space above his head. “No... no one will tell me her name because of the curse... I always thought that the curse was made up... I can’t believe you knew her.”
You sighed, “I’m sorry that... it’s my fault. It should’ve been me.” You whispered.
Dominic grabbed your shoulders, startling you. “It’s not your fault, (Y/N). This is no one’s fault. The world just sucks.”
You looked at his warm brown eyes, thinking about the cold feeling the air had taken to that night. “Her name was Marie.” You said, steeling yourself for the cold feeling to return.
A small smile crossed his face, “Do... do you have pictures of her?”
You nodded weakly, another tear sliding down your cheek. You didn’t bother wiping it away. You patted you pockets and took your phone out. “I... that night we were having a sleepover. I left before the men broke in, but we took a bunch of pictures before the whole... thing.” You explained in broken sentences. Dominic leaned closer to you, his breath hot on your neck. You pulled up the photos.
Dominic scrolled through them slowly, “She’s pretty.” He said after a while, looking at one where the two of you were smiling widely, a hot pink feather boa stretched across your shoulders.
“I used to joke that she could be a model.”
The bell rang and Dominic quickly handed your phone back, “We’re late.”
You shrugged, “I think between the two of us, with my emotinal problems and your newness, being a few seconds late won’t matter.”
Dominic shook his head, “We should still hurry, though.” You rolled your eyes and led him to Mr C’s classroom.
July 19, 2007
You were at the park with Dominic, hanging out. To probably anyone else, it would have looked like the two of you were on a date, but you had a soulmate, despite how much you despised him for existing, and Dominic still had the burnt letters above his head.
He blew a bubble and you laughed, popping it with a flick of your finger.
“Hey, you know people say you can see glimpses of your soulmate’s lives through bubbles.” He prompted.
You nodded, “I’m aware.”
He moved to you, gracefully gliding over the ground. “Give it a try, since I can’t.” You were about to say no, but you knew how much he liked hearing about other people’s soulmates. He was surprisingly content with not having Marie around, satisfied with stories and pictures.
“Okay, but just because you want me to.” You blew the bubble, making sure it was big enough to get a nice picture.
The first thing you saw was a brightly colored costume sitting in a glass case. It showed a boy, just barely older than you, sliding red and green gear on, the material not quite fitting his slim frame as well as it probably should have.
The next image showed someone you weren’t expecting: Batman.
You immediately backed away from the bubbles, not wanting to see any more. Your soulmate was a psychopath, he was reckless, an idiot. He was Robin, a criminal, a vigilante, a... hero. Your soulmate was a hero.
Dominic had his hands on your arms, clearly concerned. “(Y/N)? Are you okay? What did you see?”
You shook your head, “I... I don’t...” You gave up on talking, shocked by the image of the thin boy in the Robin suit, which had burned itself into your eyes. Dominic pulled you into a hug and you let him, not backing away or feeling weak this time.
April 8, 2019
Twelve years later and you still had yet to meet Timothy aka Robin. Of course, you saw news reports. Batman and Robin save the day, Batman and Robin, Robin and the Teen Titans, Robin and Wonder Girl, Robin, Robin, Robin. It was terrible.
The only solace you had was that you had yet to meet the man, so you could ignore his existence for as long as possible. At least you had someone else, who was definitely a much better man to have around.
You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, hugging him from behind. “Happy Birthday, Dominic!” He turned and grinned.
“Thanks, (Y/N).”
“I got you a present.” You stated, turning to get it.
“Ugh, what did I tell you about getting me things?”
You handed the small bag to him, “Don’t. Except as my best friend, you get presents one way or another.”
Dominic rolled his eyes and took the bag, carefully opening it. Inside was a picture frame with two separate sections. On the left showed a picture of Marie, smiling brightly. On the right was a photo of you and him on New Years when he’d picked you up by the waist and spun you around. Someone had gotten a photo of the moment and he’d off-handedly mentioned that it was his favorite. His face lit up as he looked at you. “Oh, (Y/N), it’s perfect!”
You nodded, “I know.” He scoffed at your remark. “So, I was thinking that we could go out for dinner tonight and celebrate...?” You hinted.
“Where are we gonna go?”
“Wherever you want, it’s your birthday dinner.”
You ended up going to a semi-expensive steakhouse that served right to the table. You watched, wide eyed, as steak, chicken, lamb, and basically all other forms of meat came on a large platter. Dominic had ordered the complete fest, meaning that you got a cut of every type of meat there.
Halfway through the meal, the window shattered. You ducked, narrowly avoiding a... wait was that a throwing star? You looked up and saw a man in a black and red suit, a cowl covering the top half of his face. He had broken glass on his shoulder and a cut on his cheek. Above him, the letters said, (Y/N). You tensed. Was this him?
Then the assassins came in. Eight in total, dressed in black with gleaming swords in their hands. You backed away, dragging Dominic by the arm.
The fight began and you froze, watching the man in the cowl move. It was graceful, like the way a leaf falls to the ground. He spun a bō around with ease, seeming so comfortable with it that it might as well have been his cell phone. He struck one assassin, sending him flying into the tables before he kicked the one behind him, tossing that one back through the broken window.
Only at the third assassin did you realize that you were watching your soulmate beat the living shit out of ninjas. A small smile played across your features as the third toppled into a fourth. It seemed like the world had slowed down as you saw him reach into his utility belt while fighting hand to hand with a fifth assassin. Three discs streaked through the air, hitting a sixth assassin. The fifth assassin was hit with a smoke bomb to the face, something you imagined didn’t feel nice. The rest of the fight disappeared in the inky black cloud, but the sounds still travelled.
You glanced at Dominic who looked terrified. “Are you okay?”
He shook his head, “Sorry, sorry. I’m not really a native Gothamite with the ability to see violence and not be scared at all.”
You chuckled, “Don’t worry. That’s one of the Bats.”
“And that’s supposed to make me feel better?”
You were about to say yes when a limp body flew at your face. You ducked, and heard Dominic scream. The body hit the wall behind you and you realized it wasn’t one of the assassins. Nope, that was the vigilante. That was Red Robin, aka Timothy, who must’ve gotten a new suit and name sometime in the last twelve years. It’s not like you put a lot of effort into keeping up with Batman and his many robins.
An assassin stalked out from the smoke bomb cloud. “I commend you, Red Robin, you’ve done great work tonight. Except, even you are no match for the League of Assassins.”
Your gaze hardened. “League of Assassins?” You quipped, intending to distract the attacker from your soulmate who was slowly getting up. Very slowly. “Are you telling me that assassins have a gang now?”
The assassin glared at you, but you held their gaze. “It is not a gang, you dim witted civilian. We are—“
“I’m gonna stop you right there.” You interrupted, moving closer to the assassin. You heard Dominic squeak behind you. “I was having a really nice day, it’s my best friend’s birthday, you see.” You kept moving closer. The assassin didn’t seem to know what to do with you. “And he loved my present and we came here for dinner.” You were maybe three steps away from the black-clad killer. “And I just don’t understand why you had to choose this place to hold a fight in? Like seriously, there’s a perfectly good dark alley right over there.” You pointed and just as you hoped, the assassin turned. You grinned and threw a kick, suddenly thanking your decision to take self defense classes in high-school. Your foot hit it’s target, connecting with the assassin’s crotch.
You were certain the assassin might’ve done something, except you were miraculously faster. You grabbed a steak knife off the nearest table and plunged it into the assassin’s shoulder/collar bone/ whatever was there. You had no idea, you weren’t a doctor, all you knew is that it must’ve hurt like hell. Blood was everywhere. You stumbled away, just now realizing that you’d stabbed someone. Assassin or no, they were still a person.
Red Robin had gotten to his feet and was staring at you, “Did— wait— what?”
You raised an eyebrow, saying nothing but looking him up and down. He was still slim, but instead of just being thin in general, he had muscles that shone from under the tight red and black suit. His lips were a soft pink and he had multiple cuts along his face and arms. You had to admit, as far as soulmates went, Red Robin wasn’t too bad in the looks department. Well, that was assuming that his face was handsome under the black cowl. You imagined it was.
“You... stabbed him.”
You nodded, “Wow, you’re so observant.”
Red Robin titled his head up, releasing his confusion. “Thanks.” He grunted and moved towards the assassin who currently had a steak knife stuck in his shoulder. He grabbed the man by the front of his shirt, pulling him up. “Did Ra’s send you? Or should I be expecting someone else?”
The assassin was frozen still and you had a moment of panic, wondering if you’d killed him. “No... no... Ra’s Al Ghul sent us...” He whimpered.
“Why?”
“Because... you’ve become a threat.” The assassin whimpered. You hadn’t realized assassin’s knew how to whimper.
“And I wasn’t before?” Red Robin growled.
The assassin gulped and for the first time that night, you empathized with the black clad killer. Red Robin was giving off some seriously scary vibes. “Yes... yes you were, I mean. But now... Ra’s believes that with Batman’s new... priorities, you are the biggest threat to the League.”
Red Robin released the assassin, practically throwing him to the ground. “I’m the biggest threat?” He scoffed.
You stared at the pair, the exchange was putting so many scenarios through your head that you didn’t know what to do with. Red Robin was a bigger threat than Batman? Why? Who was Ra’s and why was this thin man who couldn’t even take down eight assassins by himself a bigger threat?
Red Robin was shaking his head and pacing. “So what? You think I’m a threat so Ra’s sends part of his League after me? And why come in waves? Why not all at once? A total of 67 members of the League have come after me tonight. 107 in total. With half that amount Ra’s could’ve overwhelmed me if all were sent at once. Is this a test? To assure that I am a bigger threat than Batman, because I assure you, I’m not. Ra’s should be looking at Nightwing, at least.”
The assassin groaned and pulled himself to his feet. “Ra’s heard Nightwing has settled down. Even has a daughter.”
Red Robin’s demenour changed, snapping from deep thought to wild rage. The bō he carried smacked the assassin across the face. You watched, frozen, as Red Robin pushed the assassin up against the nearest wall. “Tell Ra’s that if he even looks at Nightwing’s daughter, he will have all of the Justice League and the Teen Titans to deal with! Do you hear me?”
The assassin was sickly calm.
“DO YOU HEAR ME?”
The assassin nodded slowly, a evil smile on his face. “Struck a cord, have I?”
Red Robin backed off, fuming, cursing quietly. “Strike that cord again and I’ll be the least of your worries.” Red Robin turned back to the assassin. “I imagine an angry alien mother who can light you on fire with a glance will be more troublesome than I will. I know restraint. She does not.”
The assassin remained calm. You, however, were shaking.
Red Robin grunted, “Go. Tell Ra’s my message, and don’t leave out the threat. If I see you in Gotham again, especially around Nightstar, you will be sorry.”
The assassin, despite his injuries, quickly left the scene. Dominic, whose presence you’d forgotten about, took you by the arm and gently pulled you out of the destroyed restaurant. You cast one last look at Red Robin, who caught your gaze. You saw him look above your head and you caught the small stumble backwards upon reading his name.
The next day, you were at Dominic’s place, laying on the couch. He was still having a mental breakdown about you stabbing a guy, but you were surprisingly calm. Something about Red Robin’s presence had just... erased any of the hatred you’d had towards Timothy. You actually wanted to talk to him, to see beyond the cape and cowl. You didn’t blame him and his stupid name anymore, in fact you didn’t blame anyone. It was just life. Like Dominic had said the first day you’d met him.
“How are you not freaking out?” Dominic exclaimed.
“How are you still freaking out?”
“Because, our date got interrupted by a bunch of ninjas and a psychopath in a mask, and then you stabbed a guy!”
The majority of the sentence didn’t process in your head. “Wait, you thought we were out on a date?”
Dominic froze. “No—no, I, I didn’t say date. I said dinner.”
You shook your head slowly. Did you like Dominic? You might’ve. Hell, the two of you probably could’ve been dating for the last four years and you wouldn’t have minded. Up until last night, you hated Timothy. “Do... do you like me?”
Dominic seemed frozen. “I...”
Before last night, you would’ve wanted the answer to be yes. Becuase Dominic was the one person you were close to. But last night happened. You’d met Red Robin and now you wanted the answer to be no. Because now that you’d met Timothy, you understood why the two of you were soulmates. You understood why people described meeting their soulmate as magical. Despite all the blood, the toppled tables, and smoke still heavy in the air, it had been magical. And most importantly, you understood why Timothy did it all. It felt good. “Dominic, do you like me?”
Dominic shook his head, a movement that typically meant no, but in this case it clearly meant the opposite. “I’m sorry...”
You swallowed. “I... I wish I’d known.”
Dominic looked up at you, “Do you...?” The question was left hanging in the air, unfinished as you shook your head.
“I guess I did, but not now.”
“Why?” Dominic’s voice was almost harsh.
“Weren’t you paying attention?”
When Dominic didn’t respond, you realized that he had no idea. Your best friend hadn’t even realized that your name was written above Red Robin’s head. “I need to go.” You said, standing.
Dominic called after you, apologizing. But you had something to do, someone to find, just to confirm that it was him.
You walked around Gotham, taking the darkest alleys, the most dangerous places. You paced Crime Alley like it was your bedroom floor. You headed to East End. You needed to see one of the Bats.
Only when the sky darkened did you catch a glimpse of a dark figure, running across the rooftops. “Red Robin.” You said, not bringing your voice above a speaking level. You wanted to see him, yes, but you didn’t have a death wish. Screaming his name would be the equivalent for turning the keys that controlled a nuclear bomb.
You didn’t expect the figure to hear you, so you weren’t surprised when he kept running. You saw him glide off a rooftop with a grapple. You ran towards where you thought he might’ve landed. When you arrived however, only the remenants of a fight remained in the two knocked out muggers. You sighed and turned out of the alley.
About fifteen alleys later, (somehow you hadn’t gotten kidnapped yet) did you find yourelf giving up and sitting down against a closed storefront. It was dark in Gotham City, and a few drops of rain fell from the sky every once in a while. You were tired, fully aware that if you fell asleep where you were you’d wake up... well you wouldn’t wake up. You’d be dead.
So you pulled yourself to your feet, intending to go home. Before you could take more than five steps, a dark figure landed in front of you. You blinked. Once. Twice. Why was someone just standing in front of you? You blinked again and saw a smirk.
“I’d figured you’d be quicker to stab me than that.”
You blinked again. “I don't even have a weapon?” Only after you said that did it register that Red Robin was the one standing in front of you, his cowl covering his face but not his amusement.
“Good, I don’t feel like getting stabbed tonight.”
You snorted, “Who knew Gotham vigilantes could be so snarky.”
Red Robin shuffled his feet, “Trust me, I’m nothing. You don’t know snark until you’ve met Red Hood. And don’t get me started on Nightwing, his puns are terrible.”
You smiled, “I’ll keep it in mind.”
Red Robin inclined his head, “Thanks for the help last night, I guess I needed it.”
You laughed quietly, “You had it mostly under control. There was only eight, after all.”
Red Robin paused, “Eight? No... there were twenty.”
You raised both eyebrows, “Since when?”
“Since after I threw the smoke bombs. It started with eight, then I got ambushed. Do you really think I couldn’t take out eight assassins by myself?”
You shrugged, “Well, I certainly can’t take out eight assassins by myself.”
Red Robin smiled and you realized that his smile was actually really pretty. “Well I am Red Robin after all.”
This was your chance. That was your name right above his head, all you had to do was let him know. “You mean Timothy.”
The shock on his face was so obvious, even through the cowl. You wondered how he kept a secret identity. “What?”
“Your name, it’s Timothy. It’s written above my head, just like mine is written above yours.”
Red Robin was on the defense, and you noticed his gaze darting up the the word above your head and back down to your face. “How do you know...”
“What name I have above my head?” You finished for him, sighing. “When I was seven my friend accidentally told me... she paid for it, though. Her and her family.”
You could see gears grinding in Red’s head, as if equations were flying through his brain, putting together information that had been filed away as "Maybe Will Be Important One Day, But Not Today," like he knew something about it all. Or maybe he was trying to figure out how to respond to your statement. “...I know... I’m sorry.”
You looked down, confused as to how he would know. “Thanks.” You settled with, not wanting to question him further out here in the open.
“I go by Tim.”
“What?”
“My name, when I’m not in the cowl, of course.”
“Oh... Shouldn’t we be somewhere more... I don’t know... secure? I feel like talking about your alter ego here is a bad idea.”
Red nodded, “Oh it is, we should definitely go somewhere else.” He held out a gloved hand, “Do... do you want to come with me?”
You breathed in the chilly night air, looking at his hand. You took it, “Yes.”
The pair of you landed on a rooftop on the outskirts of the city. The trip over here had been amazing, breath taking, actually. Tim had used grapples to swing you along the buildings until you reached where you were now. “This is a secure location. Batman and I use it all the time.”
You nodded. “Well... I’m (Y/N).” You introduced, awkwardly.
Tim nodded and pulled the cowl off his head and... holy shit. He had stunning blue eyes that shone even in the darkness, messy black hair, and nice cheekbones. “Damn.” You stated.
Tim chuckled, “Uh... thanks?”
“It’s a compliment. I was expecting pretty, not hot.”
Tim’s cheeks were painted pink in embarrassment, “Perks of wearing a cowl, no one knows what you actually look like.”
You chuckled, “Well, I’m glad I got to know.”
“Yeah?” Tim cocked an eyebrow.
You couldn’t take your eyes off his beautiful features, the deep sapphire blue of his eyes and how his hair hung near his eyes, the black contrasting so perfectly against his pale skin.
Tim reached out and ran two gloved fingers along the side of your face, “You know, you’re really beautiful.”
You wanted to shake your head and deny it, because you weren’t that pretty at all. But, the way Tim said it, his voice low, his fingers hesitating as if he wasn’t sure what to do, it made you see that he was telling the truth. So instead of denying it, you just let your eyes flutter closed for a moment, leaning into his touch.
Tim cupped your cheek and your heart skipped a beat. It felt so right, to be here with him, something was drawing him to you. Part of you remembered how much you hated him, how you’d blamed him for the death of Marie. How you felt about Dominic... But god, you could feel the faint traces of Tim’s breathing on your skin and how he smelled like sweat and coffee.
You couldn’t give this up.
You opened your eyes to look at him, seeing his blue eyes trained on yours. He smiled and you returned it.
“Can I be honest with you?” You asked him, your voice barely a whisper, afraid of saying something wrong to him, but knowing that he needed to know.
“Always.” Tim returned, letting his hand fall away from your face. You noted how empty the space felt now, without his hand there.
“For the past 17 years... I hated you.”
The taken aback, hurt puppy look on Tim’s face almost killed you right then and there.
“I blamed you for Marie’s death. I cursed your name everyday. When I found out you were Robin, I hated you even more, I just wanted you to die doing something stupid and then I’d never have to meet you. I could be with Dominic, and I wouldn’t have to be with the man who—“ Your voice broke, expressing these feelings you’d kept pent up inside to the one man you’d ever truly hated, and watching his face contort from confusion to pain. “Whose name killed my best friend. And ruined the life of my next best friend.” You took a breath, moving your gaze to look him in those eyes, so he’d see the tears forming in yours. “But when I saw you, in person, I couldn’t hate you anymore. It’s not your fault she said your name, and I shouldn’t be mad at you for being a hero.”
Tim was silent for a long time, staring at you, judging you. It was only when a tear fell down your cheek did he move, his gloved hand gently wiping it away. He took you in his arms, wrapping you in a hug. “I don’t blame you for hating me, (Y/N). I hate me sometimes too.”
You closed your eyes and dug your face into the crook of his neck. “You shouldn’t,” You responded simply. “You’re perfect.”
A harsh laugh escaped his lips, “I’m far from that, darling.” His grip tightened around you, “But if you would let me,” he moved you so that he still held you in his arms, but you could see his face now. Those sapphire eyes were looking at you again, their depths untold. “I’d like to show you that I can try. To be perfect. For you. Uhm... I’m bad at this.” He laughed and you couldn’t help but chuckle at how awkward he was. “What I’m trying to say is... I’d like to bring you out on a date. A proper one.”
You nodded and smiled, “I’d like that too, I think.”
Tim’s responding smile was all you needed to see to understand why he was your soulmate, because his smile cast light upon your entire world, something you hadn’t realized you’d needed until now. Your life had been cast in shadows since Marie’s death, but now... well the darkness couldn’t hide forever. Not when Red Robin was coming for it.