Witch Hunter Robin Fan Fiction ❯ A Long Night ❯ Rainbows ( Chapter 6 )

Rainbows

 

Michael gently pushed open the door and brought in the coffee. Robin was still wearing her clothes from the night before. She awoke as she heard the door and quietly Michael said “it's only me, I've brought you some coffee.” She rolled over and opened her eyes. “It's beautiful” she said, and Michael looked up, surprised, wondering what she was talking about. The rain had cleared the clouds from around Ravens Flat, and the sun beamed through his window. Doujima had broken a bracelet a few months ago, and he, being like most hackers, a scavenger in real life as well, had gathered up the crystal beads and had hung them from the window of his room for a little more decoration. Now, they caught the sunlight and cast rainbows across the room. “Rainbows,” Robin whispered. “Rainbows” replied Michael his voice mirroring the awe in hers. Then, with more determination and strength in his voice, he whispered, “rainbows for our freedom.” Robin nodded. It was all she needed to do. Michael felt a sudden pricking on the back of his eyes. He blushed fiercely, trying to stop the tears he felt rising. He cried alone at night in Ravens Flat sometimes, harsh, bitter sobs which threatened to suffocate him, which bypassed throat and his reasonable brain, until he would lie, exhausted and drained on the floor, chest burning, unsatisfied and unacknowledged. He did not want to humiliate himself this way in front of Robin, by losing control.

 

Robin felt a surge of emotion rising within her as she saw his eyes glistening, an emotion that was completely alien to her, a powerful nurturing feeling. She reached over to him, drawn by the instinct, and took him in her arms, holding him tightly. He shuddered for a second in her arms, like a wounded bird, then buried his head into her shoulder and cried. He cried and cried, but not the bitter tears he was used to. He felt permitted to cry, supported and nourished by her touch, and the tears did not hurt him, but washed him clean. She held him there, whispering into his ear, wordless sounds of comfort that a mother would whisper to a child, sounds that all women seem to learn as they go through puberty. Though she was younger, she held him like a child, until she felt him stop shaking and calm. Gently easing his face away from her chest, she produced a tissue and wiped his tears, very gently. He fell back into her embrace, calmer as she held him again. When he moved away he looked straight at her. “Rainbows,” he whispered, looking more peaceful and serene than Robin had ever seen him. Her heart was gladdened by his face and she amazed herself by kissing his cheek lightly before rising to prepare herself for work. His smile widened as he did the same, he felt more at peace than he ever had, even in his days before incarceration. Her touch was like a light shining in the darkness for him, and he suddenly realised that he had been given yet another reason to tolerate the collar and not to run. He silently thanked Robin for this precious gift.