Chapter Text
"Good morning, Firefly!"
"O-Oh, good morning, Robin!"
"I've probably missed her by now." Firefly mumbled into her coat collar, gloom weighing heavily on her mind—and posture, judging by the slouch with which she walked up the empty street.
She'd gotten used to greeting the school sweetheart on her walk to school. To the point where the silver-blonde would find herself perking up when she heard the tell-tale noise of Robin's bike pedalling up the street. Even the mere thought of it now was enough for a tendril of warmth to squeeze her heart.
Lost in her own memories, Firefly almost missed the moment when her daydream became reality.
"Good morning, Firefly!" a bright, almost melodic voice rang out—clear against the otherwise quiet street.
Was her sleep-addled mind conjuring hallucinations now? Firefly opened her mouth to vocalise her surprise, but her words got tangled up somewhere between her heart and her throat, and what ended up instinctively leaving her mouth was:
"G-Good morning, Robin!"
She offered a small wave, fully expecting Robin to pedal past her as she always did. Sometimes she would offer her own wave, causing the bike to wobble dangerously, but that was about the extent of their little morning ritual.
… Up until now, apparently.
Robin slowed her bike until she stopped alongside her, keeping her balance with one foot on the ground. "I never asked, but this is quite the walk, isn't it?" she said, tipping her head just enough so that her halo caught the light.
Firefly blinked, the sudden proximity between them her only coherent thought at the moment. "... It's only around twenty minutes."
"But still, given the time..." Robin checked her phone. "Won't you end up late?"
Firefly shrugged. "I suppose it's the price I have to pay for staying up late last night."
"As much as you've accepted your fate." Robin giggled. "I'd much rather have you hop on if it means you avoid a detention."
Firefly's pulse jumped at the offer, though the mere thought of being a burden to Robin was enough for her to quench her wants. "I'll be fine walking—I wouldn't want to trouble you, after all."
“Firefly,” Robin said gently, and for some reason the sound of her name in that tone made Firefly want to cover her face with her hands, for fear that she was turning embarrassingly red. “It’s okay. I don’t mind. Really.”
Something about her calm certainty made it impossible to argue. So, against all the polite bones in her body, Firefly found herself stepping closer, awkwardly climbing onto the rear seat and gripping the sides of the leather like a lifeline.
“You’ll need to hold on safer than that, Firefly,” Robin said, and Firefly could hear the smile in her voice.
Firefly swallowed. “… Where?”
Robin’s laughed, and it was like sunlight reincarnated to Firefly's ears. “Around my waist should work. Don’t worry—I won’t bite.”
Her hands hesitated, then settled lightly around Robin’s middle to the point that her fingers barely grazed the fabric of her cardigan. She realised she probably looked terribly incompetent, but to latch on with more certainty would be like trying to hold fire with her bare hands—the flame would be warm, but her skin would be blistering.
For a brief second, Firefly worried that her added weight would throw Robin's pedalling off balance, and they would end up tumbling unceremoniously onto the hard pavement, but was thankfully proven wrong when Robin pushed off with an easy rhythm, humming to herself as if she was used to giving random girls she met on the way free rides.
The world streaming past, the wind tugging at Firefly's hair, the warmth radiating from Robin... all of it was so new to Firefly that she struck up a conversation for the sole purpose of grounding herself in reality.
"Do you... do this sort of thing often?"
"You'll have to be more specific." Robin teased.
"I-It's just you already have a rear seat installed on your bike... and you offered me to tag along so naturally that I thought you..." The flustered girl caught herself rambling. "Never mind."
"No, no carry on. I like listening to you talk."
Firefly had never wanted a journey to end so quickly in her life. At this rate, she would leave her heart behind on this bike and stumble lifelessly into class as her mind looped this specific moment over and over. "I thought you usually picked up some of your friends on your bike or something," she mumbled out. If she had a pillow she would be screaming into it, but right now the closest thing she had was Robin's back, and... yeah no.
Robin's voice was thoughtful, "You'd be incorrect, actually. I think you're the first person I've allowed on this bike since... perhaps 3rd grade?"
"That long?" With how popular Robin was at school, it was only natural for Firefly to be shocked. "Who was the last person?"
"My brother. We used to cycle together on this bike a lot when we were younger, actually." Robin sighed fondly. "We would always take turns on who would pedal, but both of us knew that he was better at steering than I would ever be."
The childhood anecdote had Firefly picturing what the blue-haired beauty might have looked like as a child, but her mental image quickly spiralled into absurdity when she imagined a halo far too large for the rest of her little body. She had to stifle a laugh behind her hand—an innocent slip that threw her off balance just as the bike jolted over a bump.
"Careful." Robin's voice called out, and suddenly a warmth was enveloping Firefly's stray hand.
It was Robin's hand.
Somehow steering with only one hand, Robin guided Firefly’s fingers back to her side, giving them a gentle pat before returning her hand to the handlebars. The brief touch alone sent Firefly’s heart reeling, and she barely managed to force out a stammered, “Th-thanks,” before her throat gave up on her entirely.
She hadn't known hands could be that soft.
"We're here." Robin announced, slowing down until they neatly slid into the bike shelter right outside the school gate. "With five minutes to spare. Lucky us."
Oh my Aeons, she'd actually survived.
However, even the wave of relief was accompanied with an undercurrent of melancholy. This might have well been the only time she would ever get to speak with Robin so closely; at school, the idol was always surrounded by classmates wherever she went. Firefly had lost count of how many times she’d searched for her with every intention of striking up a conversation, only to be discouraged by the crowd of eager classmates already vying for Robin’s attention.
The thought tugged at Firefly’s cluttered mind—standing this near to Robin’s bike was bound to spark rumours if the wrong eyes caught sight. She should probably slip away before that happened.
Yet, even with the intent to say goodbye, Firefly couldn't resist the selfish desire gnawing at her conscience, and so what left her mouth wasn't a parting, but a final ditch effort of prolonging their conversation. If only for a minute longer.
"Did you also wake up late, Robin?" Firefly asked, diverting her nerves to the action of scuffing her shoe against the gravel. "You normally cycle to school much earlier than you did today."
Robin hummed thoughtfully. "I'm not so sure myself on why I left my house so late, but what I do know...
Firefly was holding in a breath without even realising.
Is that today was one of the best mornings I've ever had." And the smile which accompanied that devastatingly sweet statement was a divine gift from God as far as Firefly was concerned.
Having said her closing piece, Robin initiated their parting with a small wave. "Have a good day, Firefly."
"Y-You too, Robin." Firefly’s voice cracked halfway through, and she wanted to bury herself six feet under. But Robin only smiled, as if she hadn’t noticed.
Or perhaps she'd thought it was endearing.
***
"Stop deluding yourself." Firefly yawned into her hand as she recounted the events from the day before. It was too early, her mind hadn't strayed from the Halovian once and she still hadn't done the reading for first period.
Then she stopped dead.
For Robin was waiting at the curb, perched gracefully on her bike as if she had stepped straight out of a glossy magazine spread. The rising sun lit the edges of her hair in silver-blue threads; her skirt and blazer sat perfectly, not a wrinkle in sight. Even when doing something as mundane as scrolling on her phone, Robin never failed to make it look advertisement-worthy.
"Good... morning?" Firefly ventured.
Robin looked up from her phone, her ear-wings flapping once as if greeting her automatically. "Firefly! Good morning!"
Firefly blinked, suddenly aware of how crooked her tie was, how messy her bangs looked, how average she felt standing there with her bag half slung on her shoulder. “… You’re here.”
“Of course.” Robin tilted her head adorably. “I thought we could ride together again.”
Firefly froze. Again? Like this is just… a thing now?
Robin's lips parted, catching onto her silence. “Unless you’d rather walk?” she offered, tone patient.
“N-no, I—” Firefly fumbled, gripping her bag tighter. “… It’s fine. I’ll ride with you.”
"Good." Robin smiled as Firefly climbed onto the back seat once more. "Don't forget to hold on," she reminded—the same as yesterday
Firefly's ears burned as her hands hovered in the air uncertainly, only to realise that Robin wasn't going to start pedalling until her hands found purchase at her waist.
She's so—
"Perfect." Robin said once Firefly's hands had settled around her middle.
As the bike rolled forward, Firefly ducked her head, cheeks burning, because:
Robin had just finished the thought she couldn’t.
***
The wind had started to pick up, forcing Firefly to squint against the morning breeze as gusts of air nipped at her face.
Wait, that wasn't air—
"Pft—" Firefly sputtered, jerking her head back as strands of blue whipped across her face "Your hair—"
And then she stopped herself. Because carrying on would only seem ungrateful—especially after Robin so generously offered to cycle her to school. But she had already, stupidly, said too much for the other girl not to catch on to Firefly's current predicament.
Robin glanced over her shoulder, and—contrary to Firefly's fears—burst out laughing at the sight. "Sorry! I think I've forgotten how windy this part of the journey can get sometimes."
"It's really no trouble." Firefly scrambled to make herself seem less of a burden, resisting the urge to wince as a stray lock attacked her left eye. The faint scent of jasmine lingered in the air, and the realisation that it was most likely Robin's hair left Firefly hopelessly light-headed.
"Your face says otherwise." Robin said, voice tinged with amusement. Then, much gentler, "Do you want me to tie my hair up tomorrow?"
Firefly blinked—still processing that there was even a tomorrow for this routine (she was already far too blessed to have two days in a row seated behind Robin).
"... It's fine," she muttered quickly, eyes fixing onto the road.
Thankfully, Robin didn't press further, for Firefly was certain that her will wasn't going to last for long until it crumbled under the other girl's sheer sweetness. Still, regret set in quickly. Not only had she endured a faceful of Robin’s hair the whole way, but the wind had also left her own strands in disarray. She looked like she’d just rolled out of bed.
Robin parked neatly, hopping off as if nothing had happened. Which, to be fair, you wouldn't be able to tell that she had just pedalled through a gust of wind by looking at her—her uniform was still without a wrinkle, and every strand of her hair was neatly in place as if what had happened on the bike had been rehearsals and now, at school, was the real performance.
Realising how pitiful she looked in comparison, Firefly fumbled with her own bangs, trying to pat them into submission, only for Robin to glance over and say—
"You look good windswept."
"I-I really don't!"
"If you say so, Firefly~" And with that, she was off in the direction of the gates, leaving a very red Firefly in her wake.
***
When the next day arrived, Firefly walked so briskly that the threat of tripping was almost palpable. Though, when your thoughts are full of a particular girl with silky hair, the sweetest personality, the most radiant smile and the most—
"Good morning, Firefly!"
— you tend to forget everything else.
And so, because of the universe's cursed humour, Firefly tripped on her own feet as she simultaneously tried to smile, wave, fix her bag, fix her hair and also speed up so that she wouldn't keep Robin waiting any longer.
"Good morning...!" She cut herself off, mouth turning drier with every step she took towards the other girl.
Aeons save her.
Her long, blue hair was swept up into a messy bun, a few loose strands framing her face like a picture. Firefly had never once pictured Robin in any other hairstyle besides her usual loose hair done up in a partial bun. And really, she hadn’t needed to—just that familiar style was already enough to send her heart into overdrive. Yet now, seeing her like this…
She's so pretty.
Yeah, the general sentiment was still the same. But it was the novelty that made Firefly want to tuck away this image of Robin away in a safe corner of her mind, so that she could relive it a thousand times over in the comforting privacy of her own home later.
Robin tilted her head, showing off the bun even more. "See? I kept my promise, didn't I?"
Firefly was still staring. "... You sure did."
If Robin noticed the common sense leaving Firefly's soul at the moment, she didn't comment on it. "Shall we head off?"
"Y-Yeah..."
The rest of the ride was much smoother than it had been yesterday—no strands flicking into her face or pathetic sputtering noises. But—instead of appreciating the breeze cooling her face—Firefly found her eyes drifting traitorously forward. It was perhaps a testament to how vice-like of a grip the innocent hairstyle had on Firefly's thoughts, that the girl found herself wanting to poke it—as if it were one of those squishy plushies she harboured in her room.
At a red light, Robin rested her foot on the curb, glancing back. “How's the ride so far? Better?”
"Much." Firefly nodded far too vigorously.
“That's good to hear.” She smiled, turning forward again. “Guess you’ll survive me a little longer, then."
The light turned green, and they were off again. Her hand moved almost of its own accord, betraying the swirl of thoughts and nerves crowding her mind—and this time, it had nothing to do with Robin’s waist. Before she could even think to stop it, her fingers brushed the back of Robin’s bun. Just the quickest graze, but the way it wobbled under her hand made her heart trip over itself, and she froze, caught red-handed by her own impulsive longing.
Robin glanced back immediately, eyebrows lifted. “... Did you just touch my hair?”
"No." Firefly lied, but the automatic averting of her eyes betrayed her.
Robin tucked a strand behind her ear. "You did."
"I didn't."
“You definitely did.” Her laugh bubbled out. “Do you like it that much?”
“I—No—!” Firefly’s eyes darted anywhere but forward, her voice tripping over itself as she suffered the weight of knowing that she was guilty of all accusations.
Robin shook her head, grinning like she’d seen straight through her. "You're cute, Firefly."
Firefly's world tilted. She wanted to protest, to laugh it off, to disappear—but all she could do was cling on, not just to Robin, but to the terrifying realisation that her heart didn't stand a chance.