flashback of a feeling [nerys]

It was bright enough to wear sunglasses with his scarf and hat. Robin pulled off his gloves to open the box of fudge squares he’d just purchased from Honeydukes, sitting down on a flower-box ledge outside and pushing Bertie’s nose away with his other hand. He wasn’t sure why exactly he’d gotten candy. Probably just because he could. It was only midmorning, but his insides were shivering with apprehension. 

He stuffed a chunk of fudge in his mouth. The owls had been exchanged over a spontaneous matter of hours. Do you want to get together? What about tomorrow? The thought had been on Robin’s mind ever since they’d met at the hospital, but the days and then the months went by. He hadn’t wanted to push. He didn’t know what Nerys would want from him after all these years, if anything, and he wanted to leave everything on her terms. But when she wrote him it was as if all that self-control dissolved. What about tomorrow? Why not right now? He left an hour and a half early in the morning. All the time in between became intolerable, just there to be killed.

Robin didn’t have the faintest idea what he was expecting, only that he had to find out. He knew what he wanted: a friendship. He wanted to get to know Fflur’s sister again the same way that she was, to fix everything and make it new. However he planned to go about that, well, he’d figure out once it came out of his mouth. For now he took another large bite of fudge. And then he shoved the rest of the square in his mouth and swallowed quickly, closing the box as he saw her appear at the end of the street.

“Hi,” said Robin, rising abruptly. The dog leash was gathered in his hand and he had to let it out another foot. “Hi,” he said again, “sorry, if you’re allergic or something I can drop him back home, I just thought I’d, y’know—“  He leapt forward impulsively, wrapping his free arm around her in a quick hug. It was really good to hear from you,” he said. “Wasn’t sure what you wanted to do but I reckon we could find something to do around here if anywhere.”

Remembering his sunglasses, Robin lifted them and set them atop his knit hat. “How’s St. Mungo’s? What’ve you been doing? How long’s it been—months?” He grinned suddenly. “It’s almost your birthday, isn’t it?”