𝐷𝑜𝑝𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒, 𝑆𝑒𝑟𝑜𝑡𝑜𝑛𝑖𝑛, 𝑂𝑥𝑦𝑡𝑜𝑐𝑖𝑛- 𝑅𝑜𝑛𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑒

𝐹𝑖𝑓𝑡𝑦- 𝑆𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑛

Robin supposed that it was a hidden confidence; a small reassurance that people like her were everywhere, even if hidden in the shadows.

People had had experiences like hers before, had had experiences even worse, too.
People had been outed, killed for being gay.

However, all Robin had so far was acceptance and a kiss.

The acceptance still wasn't necessarily of her own, but it was there.
And so was Nancy Wheeler.

As she sat on the couch, she thought back upon James, the kiss, and the event. She also, for some reason, thought back upon Will Byers. It was an odd feeling, to not necessarily know how you were feeling at all. It was almost as if she was aware of the thoughts, but not processing them. Even Eddie had mentioned the other day that she was supposedly acting weird... but was she?

Robin didn't necessarily think that she'd thought about it much at all, initially. Perhaps the night of, perhaps the morning after, but, nothing more.

Which meant that it was bound to set in at some point.

And setting in is what it was.

-

"Where'd you rush off to earlier?" Steve spoke down the hallway as he let himself in through the front door. Robin was mulling around in the kitchen, stirring up a boiling pot full of pasta. It was just about the normal time that she'd be thinking about dinner.

She turned her head slightly at the entrance of his voice, flicking away a hanging piece of hair as she swayed.
"Oh- uh, just the library!"

"Oh, yeah- forgot you were a nerd." He replied, tossing his backpack to the shoe rack and making his way towards the smell of cooking.

Robin chuckled slightly, attempting to ignore his words as she replaced the spoon in her hand with an overhanging cheese grater.
"Shut up."

"Never."

He walked inwards, jabbing his friend in the waist before dodging her swift turnaround. As he tapped upon her opposite shoulder, he stuck his hand underneath the falling rain of cheddar, chuckling at his forming snack as Robin shooed him away.

"Get off- you're disgusting-"

"Thank you-" he pulled away his fist full.

"You're not getting anymore."

"What, so you're just going to let your best friend starve? Wow... how caring of you."

Robin blinked.
"Well, it's not my fault that you're here instead of at your own house making food. What're you even doing here, anyway?"

Steve watched onwards as Robin placed down the grater and resumed with the spoon, kneading and turning in the added extra.

"I was hoping you could feed me, if I'm being honest. Haven't been to get any groceries- but, luckily for me, it looks like you've made enough for two."

Buckley upturned the corner of her lips in a scoff, rolling her eyes as the man continued the charity case.

"Yeah, this was meant to be lasting me a few days. Me, Eddie and Max literally went shopping the other day- you ought to of come along."

"Now that would be charity work. Helping you guys find stuff on a list? Yeah, no thanks."

"Starve, then."

"I won't be doing! I have you, remember? My own personal chef."

His sarcasm was uncanny.
"I literally don't even like you."

"Oh, you're so cute when you lie."

"Get out of this kitchen before you regret it. I swear to God, Steve-"

"I'm going, I'm going-" he surrendered with his hands up as he backed away, reaching out to tussle through Robin's tied up hair.

"Mother fucker." She muttered as her friend left the vicinity, strolling back through the hallway and assumedly into the living room.

She didn't mind sharing her food. She didn't mind sharing anything with him, actually. It was true knowledge that he'd always do the same for her. It was always a level playing field when it came to those two.
A comfort, even.

The pasta in the bowl simmered, bubbling slightly in-between the pieces. She stared to its pale colour, watching the previously added cheese swirling in with the rest. It looked quite delicious, actually, so, with the next step being to prepare the bowls, Robin sauntered backwards, directing herself towards the cupboard that they were placed in.

As she did so- almost as if it would help with the projection of her voice- she arched herself backwards slightly to call out the all-important question.

"How hungry are you?"

"Decently- thanks." A reply travelled through the house, confirming the correct amount to heap into the bowl.

So, Robin did just that. She grabbed the bowl, grabbed the cutlery, dolloped a decent size portion into each, and dawdled her way back into the living room.