INSIGHTFUL ⇛ Tim Drake [ currently on hiatus ]

5.

As soon as he came, he was gone. After receiving an acceptable response to his question Red Robin had fled the scene, tying up the thugs and leaving them for the authorities to take care of. 

Sam had insisted to walk me home, though he only ended up walking halfway with me. Turns out my house was out of his way, and so I had managed to convince him to go home without worrying about me.  And now here I am, hopelessly kicking rocks as I make my way home.

My toes sting from the cold as they tap against the concrete. The weather is almost always utter crap here in Gotham and after living here my whole life I just can't help but yearn for some light and warmth to be shed over this city and all of it's children. The sky is a pasty gray, dark and gloomy rain clouds heading this way. A shiver racks through my body, a loud breath being released from my mouth. I rapidly rub my hands together in attempt to warm them up. It isn't an uncomfortable type of cold but more of a distressing and painful type of cold.

"Cold?"

I scream a little, jumping slightly from the sudden sound of speech. My heart beat is sped up and my breath is held, my head snapping in the direction of the noise.

I relax once I lazily rake my eyes over Tim's already familiar frame. His hair is wet from the rain and his uniform blazer clings to the fabric underneath. The white school shirt sticks to his body, defining the toned muscles hidden underneath. His abdomen seems to be carved by the gods and it takes every last inch of my will power not to stare. A blush rises to my cheeks and I silently pray that he doesn't notice.

If I were any other teenager, I would have screamed again.

"No," I lie. I purse my lips in an awkward smile, glancing at Tim before returning my eyes to the busy Gotham street in front of me. My hands shake from the cold and each breath I take is a painful and shaky shiver. "Okay, that's not true. I'm bloody freezing."

"We should probably get you inside," Tim nods, pulling his blazer in at the front and buttoning it shut, his shoulders following his movements. He then puts both of his hands in the pockets of his blazer and I mentally kick myself for forgetting to pull out the thread that keeps my own blazer pockets sealed shut. "You look like you're about to pass out."

I laugh a little, rubbing my hands together in attempt to warm them up. I wince at the cold in my fingertips, the purple frostbite becoming more intense by the minute. Tim looks down at my hands, taking his bottom lip in between his teeth. A blush rises to my cheeks and I sheepishly fumble with my aching fingers. They don't look attractive at all and I swear if Tim wasn't as polite as he is, he would have at least gagged at the sight of them. I'm not even exaggerating. The tips of my fingertips are a mixture of whites, blues, reds and purples and multiple bruises still scatter the rest of my fingers from when I had spent time in the Joker's captivity.

"Here, let me help you out a little." Tim turns to me as he pulls his hands out of his pockets and takes my own in between his palms. They're warm and comforting against my cold and rigid hands, the heat pulling an unnoticeable sigh from my lips. His soft and silky skin contradicts to my rough and injured hands as he starts to move his palms against my own. The friction creates warmth and heat between our hands. Tim's lips hold the ghost of a smile as he carefully assesses the movement of his hands against mine.

We're both drenched by now, both of our hair and clothing stuck to our skin and Tim still seems to resemble the most beautiful angel our world can offer. His dark and luscious locks are soaking and stuck to the sides of his forehead, cheeks tinted pink and lips looking redder than ever underneath the many drops of rain running down his face. Tim's blue eyes are intensified by the color of his lips and the darkness of his raven hair. His eyes are intriguing and it's hard not to loose myself in them, the different blues and the tinniest flecks of green being almost hypnotic. My attention is focused on his eyes, noting down and memorizing every little detail.