[Five months ago]
The smell of sizzling butter and bacon crept into Robin's dreams before anything else.
They stirred, tucked against Amelia's cozy double bed, face half-buried in a pillow that smelled faintly of her lavender soap. One leg dangled off the edge. The morning sun cut golden lines across Amelia's small flat, warming the clutter of books, folded laundry, and faintly glowing mana-stones tossed carelessly on a windowsill.
Robin blinked, groaned, stretched, and immediately fell back into the bed with a dramatic sigh.
"Smells like you're bribing me." Robin mumbled into the cushions.
"I am. Get your ass up." Amelia called out from the kitchen.
Robin grinned, rolled over, and kicked the blanket onto the floor. Their red hair was a nest, freckles still creased with sleep. In three steps, Robin was behind Amelia, arms wrapping lazily around her waist.
"Mmmm, good morning, miracle woman." Robin purred, planting a soft kiss on her cheek.
Amelia let out a soft laugh as she cooked breakfast, already dressed in her white scrubs, wand clipped at her hip, braid pulled tight. Her eyes flicked to the clock.
"I'm late. And you've got a train to Holland in..." she squinted "...forty minutes!"
"That's illegal." Robin gasped like they'd been shot. "It's illegal to be this late when there's a magnificent breakfast in the house."
They slid into a chair dramatically as Amelia plated up two overflowing English breakfasts - eggs, bacon, sausage, beans, toast, and somehow even a grilled tomato and a slice of black pudding.
"You didn't." Robin's eyes sparkled.
"I did." Amelia smirked. "I know it's your favorite. Don't say I never do anything for you."
Robin pressed a hand to their heart, in mockery and in truth.
"Oh please, marry me. I love you so much."
"Eat, you disaster!" Amelia rolled her eyes, smiling. "You'll need the energy to charm your way past the ticket inspector. Again..."
Between bites, Robin talked about the friend in Holland, about maybe staying a few days, about a weird dream involving a talking tree and a golden chicken. Amelia half-listened, sipping her tea, occasionally nodding. Her eyes drifted toward the door. She didn't say anything, but something in her stillness said she didn't think Robin would be back soon.
The kitchen buzzed softly, not with conversation, but with the gentle energy that came from two people who knew each other's rhythms. Robin was all motion, warmth, contact. Amelia was a calm orbit.
As she stood to leave, Robin leapt up, hugged her tight from behind again.
"Fix some bones for me today, would ya?" Robin whispered.
"Mind yourself, you walking disaster." she replied. "Just once, arrive somewhere without a limp, yeah?"
Without staying behind, Robin grabbed a backpack, planted a big kiss on Amelia's cheeks at the door as a thank you and goodbye, and bolted for the train station.
With zero chance of making it on time.
***
The train hummed beneath Robin like a lullaby made of iron and distance.
Head tilted against the window, eyes half-closed, Robin watched gray industrial sprawl give way to damp fields and wind-shredded trees. The English coast had long disappeared behind them. Now came the endless stretch of sea walls, turbines, and Dutch farmland slick with morning mist.
The rhythmic sway of the carriage cradled Robin in and out of shallow sleep. The train wagon was empty. Just Robin, alone with the hum of the rails and the long stretch of track pulling them toward Holland.
Somewhere near Antwerp, a sudden jolt woke Robin up.
Robin sat up, rubbed sleep from their eyes, and instinctively patted the side pocket of the backpack wedged between their boots. Still there. Folded euros, a survival budget for the month.
SAFE kept Robin from starving. Barely.
The program had sparked riots and endless debates before, the ruling class pressing in the minds of the people that it was impossible. "It would break the economy." But when magic swept across the world like a storm ten years ago, the cracks in the old systems split wide open. The excuses fell with them.
Turns out, housing and feeding people wasn't impossible.
S.A.F.E., Social Assistance for Fundamental Expenses, was messy, but it meant Robin didn't have to beg for side gigs just to eat. At least not this week.
Robin leaned back, but didn't close their eyes. The overhead lights flickered as they passed into a tunnel. The window went black and their own reflection blinked back at them: red hair a mess, eyes still soft from sleep, freckles across the nose like fading embers.
Robin didn't like that face alone.
Didn't like being alone, full stop.
Robin shifted, pulled the backpack closer, and curled a little tighter into the seat. No poetry in solitude. No clever lesson. Just hours ticking by without a voice or a hand or a heartbeat close by.
Robin hugged the backpack, half-wishing it would breathe back.
And the train rocked Robin back to sleep.
***
The farmhouse smelled like basil, damp wood, and something... very trippy.
Robin stirred, tucked against Hendrick's long frame in the hammock strung between two greenhouse posts. Limbs still loose, grin lazier than a Sunday afternoon. His beard tickled their neck as he shifted, legs stretched out, glasses sliding down his nose.
"I think," Robin said, voice syrupy, "that flower just told me to hydrate."
"You should listen," Hendrick replied, without looking. "She's smarter than both of us."
The air shimmered faintly. Spores. Heat. Green magic. The entire place was alive, in more ways than one. Tulips bloomed alongside glowing mushrooms. Ivy curled up broken shelves. Herbs hummed.
They'd been like this for days. Floating through time, alternating between naps, long intimate hugs, mind-melting herbal experiments, and slow conversations that sometimes looped and never ended. Robin called it "vacation." Hendrick called it "research."
The contrast between them couldn't be sharper. Hendrick: a tall, lean soul draped in linen, fingers stained with tree sap and ink, always lost in quiet daydreams and wild ideas. Robin: a burst of kinetic charm wrapped in a hoodie and mismatched socks, leaving chaos in every footprint. And somehow, it worked.
Robin's energy made Hendrick laugh like nothing else. Hendrick's stillness made Robin feel safe enough to stop bouncing... for a bit.
One afternoon, mid-transcendence, Hendrick's phone buzzed on the dusty workbench. He blinked at the screen for a while, eyes slow to focus, then cleared his throat.
"Munich," he said. "Old friends' gathering there. Seems they want to go on a road trip. And I think you might know some of them."
Robin shot upright like a spark. "You better not go without me!"
Hendrick smiled, a small crinkle near his eyes. "Oh, I wouldn't dream of it."
Robin beamed.
By evening, backpacks were half-packed (badly), the greenhouse was locked (maybe), and they were already on a train heading east. Robin chattering excitedly about who they might meet, Hendrick listening, quietly glad to be swept into the wind again.