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Summary
Robin was joking but something very serious in Steve twisted. It tasted like the giddy hopefulness he felt when a girl giggled and tucked her hair behind her ear after a shitty joke, but tinged with a dark trepidation he’d never felt before. He was looking down a sharp berry-coloured precipice, could smell the cigarettes and grass stains, hear the rushing water below, like plucked guitar strings and well-loved book pages coming to life between ringed fingers, and, honestly, he really fucking wanted to jump.
