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Cormoran had almost never bothered with breakfast, at least not in the flat, but Robin usually made sure he had something to eat before they left for the day. He always made them both coffee while she handled the food, preparing hers exactly right without needing to be asked. They'd already learned how to move together in the small spaces, enjoying every time they brushed together. Often, they did it on purpose.
Sometimes the coffee went in travel mugs and the breakfast was eaten one-handed as they left the flat, heading downstairs for an appointment or out the door completely for the next stage of whatever the current case was. There was no kiss goodbye, because they were leaving together, but kisses for various reasons would be stolen throughout the day.
Other days, they had enough time for a proper sit-down breakfast in the kitchen. The table was small, but there was just enough room for two people if they kept any reading material off of it. Cormoran always made sure to sit on the side where his good leg would be underneath the table, pressed gently but firmly against one or both of hers, and if they were barefoot or in easily removable shoes sometimes they'd get in quite a decent game of footsie (she noticed he'd started waiting to tie that shoe at all until after breakfast). They talked about everything, or nothing, and both felt just as comfortable.
It had only been a few months, but she already knew this was what she wanted her future to look like. She’d used work to escape Matt so many times, but now it just felt like a continuation of her and Cormoran's lives together. Even when he was at his most frustrating, he still felt like home.
The problem was, this wasn't a decision she could make on her own.
She was halfway through her eggs before she finally managed to make herself take a deep breath. "I have a confession to make." He looked up, caught by something in her tone, and she hurried ahead before she lost her nerve. "I've stopped looking at flats."
He went utterly still. Even though his expression stayed neutral, she could feel the sudden tension in the leg pressed up against hers. "You find one you like?"
Robin's stomach twisted, suddenly afraid she'd made a mistake. She’d expected a discussion, possibly some wariness, but he was actively unhappy right now. "I did." She swallowed. "It's perfect."
His expression closed down a little more at that, and he dropped the toast like he'd lost all interest in it. "You sign anything yet?"
Robin's brow furrowed, not sure what he was talking about. She wanted him to want her to stay, not try to force him into anything. "Of course not. I wouldn't do that without you."
Some of the blankness left his face, but she wasn't expecting the oddly defeated look that replaced it. "So when you leaving, then?"
She just stared at him, weirdly hurt, when it hit her suddenly that they weren't having the same conversation. Her chest tightened as she reached over to cover his hand with her own. "Never," she said softly. "At least, that's what I'm hoping."
Cormoran stared back at her a moment, just as lost as she had been, when sudden understanding lit his eyes. "Here?"
She nodded, squeezing his hand. "Can I stay?"
Tension poured out of him in a rush, replaced by a quiet, glowing happiness that made her throat tighten. He hadn't wanted her to leave, either. "Yeah." He turned his hand so they were holding on to each other. "We'll add your name to the lease next time it comes round." He hesitated. "If that's what you want."
Robin smiled, her own chest glowing at the commitment implied in that simple statement. When Cormoran opened his heart, and his home, he opened it all the way.
And in both cases, there was no place else she would rather be. "It's what I want." She picked her fork back up with her free hand, still holding on tight. "You might want to be careful about making this so easy on me, though."
His smile widened as he picked up his toast. Underneath the table, she felt him start toeing off his shoe. "All part of my evil plan."
000
Sometimes they worked late, either out on a job or holed up in the office with research spread out around them. Though they occasionally fell asleep in the office on those nights, mostly they managed to get each other back upstairs and into bed. The fact that she wouldn't leave without him meant he got more sleep than he once did, and the fact that she was wrapped around him meant it was better than he'd ever managed on his own. They didn't talk about it, but Cormoran hoped he was returning the favor.
Other nights, though, they had time outside of work. Sometimes they went out, either with friends or for a quiet night at a pub, and once or twice he'd even managed enough of a showstopper to put that particular sparkle in her eye. Other times they stayed tucked up in the tiny flat, sprawled in bed reading or curled up together watching TV in the loveseat that had replaced the armchair. Sometimes they'd talk, about work or their families or a thousand other topics that didn't need to be important to be worth sharing. Other times they didn't say a word, both of them wrapped up together in warm, comfortable silence.
Tonight, though, there were words that needed to be said. Cormoran could feel them at the back of his throat, buried in the knot of emotion that had been there ever since breakfast. Robin had told him she wanted to stay, here in this shitty little flat that was less than half the size of the smallest place he'd seen her in with Matt, and when he'd said yes she'd looked more delighted than she had by the fanciest dinner. He'd been bracing himself for her to get a place of her own for months now, fully aware she'd moved in purely due to circumstance, and she'd looked at him like there was even the slightest possible chance he was going to say no.
He was thrilled. He was terrified. And he didn't know how to say any of it.
He took off his leg, sliding into bed so he would be at a better angle to watch Robin put on lotion. She had a very specific ritual she did, even if she didn't realize it, and Cormoran enjoyed watching it more than any football game he'd ever seen.
When she noticed, the amusement in Robin's eyes wasn't quite enough to hide the bashful edge. "I keep telling you, it's not that interesting."
Even after only a few months, his line was nearly as familiar a routine. "I'll be the judge of that." When she leaned forward to rub the lotion along her leg, though, his chest tightened. "We should get a chair in here."
She smiled as she smoothed her hands down to her ankles, then rubbed upward in small circles. "We don't have room for a chair. Besides, the bed works perfectly well."
Both statements were true, but the easy way she'd said them made something inside him ache. She was clearly good at putting up with things – she'd spent years with Matt – but he didn't want to be something she had to put up with. "We could get a bigger place. It might take awhile, but--"
The words caught, not quite right, and Robin stopped what she was doing to give him a speculative look. "I like it here," she said finally, voice soft.
Cormoran's throat closed up. "Why?" There were a dozen variations wrapped up in that single word, half of them questions Charlotte had caused and the other half ones she'd never been able to answer.
Her expression turned tender, and they just looked at each other for a few endless heartbeats. Then she reached out to smooth a hand along his cheek, cradling it like something precious. "It feels like you."
The only possible response was to kiss her, the burn of it cleaner and sweeter than the best alcohol. She immediately grabbed onto him, leaning in for more, and he tightened his arms around her to pull her closer. He no longer considered himself well on his way to becoming an alcoholic, but there was a pretty good chance he was addicted to her.
When they broke apart, he pressed his forehead against Robin's. "It's better with you," he murmured, voice rough. "Everything is."
She smiled, her eyes wet. "All part of my evil plan."
He laughed, the pressure in his chest enough that his own eyes stung. He took Robin's unlotioned leg, shifted it over to his lap, then held a hand out for the lotion. She handed it over, looking oddly bashful, and he put some on his hand and started lotioning her leg the same way she did.
She watched him, something fragile in her expression. "I had no idea love was supposed to make you feel good," she said thickly, sounding almost awed.
Cormoran's chest tightened as he pressed a kiss against her knee. She’d found the words. "Me, either."