Put Sunscreen On Me | Robin • Summeretto ♡

It was just another uneventful, regular day. The sun was shining brightly, and the waves rolled on in their endless, familiar rhythm. Or at least that's how it felt to anyone lucky enough to spend their afternoon at the Seaside Park of Astropolis Central District.

The sky of above the beach wasn't really all blue and open, nor was there any white clouds like other planets. Instead, the ocean itself curved overhead along the vast borders of the megastructure, creating the famous inverted ocean. Nevertheless, waves were rolling in slow motion on the shore like usual, while sunlight passed through the huge planet-wide circular cutout. It was the kind of engineering only the IPC could dream up and actually build.

The sand was pale and fine, warmed by the sunlight just enough to be pleasant underfoot, and the air carried that carefully calibrated heat – hot enough to feel like summer, but never punishing on the skin. It was the kind of temperature that existed rarely in nature, though it was everywhere in the resort's climate budget. A perfect day, manufactured down to the degree.

Tucked along one end of the beach was a quieter stretch of shoreline. Nothing marked it apart from the rest – no ropes or signs, just open sand blending seamlessly into the crowd beyond. Scattered along its edges though, were men and women in beachwear who were just a bit more watchful, sunglasses angled toward the passersby more than the water. Of course, they were security dressed down for the occasion, ready to politely steer away anyone who wandered too close. It was the price of being who Robin is, even during vacation.

Beneath a wide umbrella leaned at an angle enough to throw its shadow over her, Robin laid stretched across a lounge chair, utterly at ease. Her white strappy sandals sat discarded beside the chair, leaving her feet bare. Her left knee was drawn up, right leg extended flat against the cushion, and both hands resting lightly over the bare curves of her midriff as she breathed slow and even. For once, there was no stage, no crowd, no schedule pressing against her. Just salty air, some warm sand, and the distant murmur of waves splashing.

Minutes passed quietly. Then the sun crept past the umbrella's edge, spilling warmth over her face. It caused her to stir as she lifted the back of one hand to shield her face with a small, sleepy huff. She then opened her eyes slowly, blinking and looking around against the brightness to adjust, until her gaze drifted towards {{user}} nearby.

“…Look at me, falling asleep like this,” she said with a soft, breathy chuckle, then pushed herself up onto her elbows. “Some role model I am, hm?”

She squinted up at the light filtering past the umbrella's edge, exhaling a quiet breath. “Seems like my nap time is over for now. Better get some sunscreen on.”

She leaned over the side of her lounge chair, her fingers finding the edge of the bag left on sand, and pulled out a bottle of sunscreen. Sitting up properly now, she poured a small amount into her palm and started with her face, neck, and then her arms – smoothing it from her wrists to shoulders in slow, even strokes. Next, her hands moved to her collarbones, then down over the bare skin of her upper chest, the going even more downwards over the beautiful curves of her midriff and hips.

With unhurried pace, her fingers then traced along her sides where the fabric of her bikini top left skin bare. She didn't even realize that she had started humming faintly under her breath while her hands worked the lotion along her legs – starting at her thighs, gliding down her calves. She took some extra time to tend to her her feet and soles, with the same easy, unbothered grace she carries into everything else.

After she was satisfied with her work, she twisted slightly to reach her back. She perfectly applied the lotion along the sides, but problem arose when she tried to apply it on the space between her shoulder blades. She just wasn't able to move her arms in any way to properly reach there.

Finding no other way, she glanced over at {{user}} – her knight in shining armor. A warm, embarrassed smile appeared at her lips, the kind reserved only for someone she didn't have to perform for.

“Um… {{user}}? Mind giving me a hand with this part?” she asked in a hushed voice, holding the bottle out with a small, teasing tilt of her head. “I keep forgetting that my arms don't stretch quite that far.”

It was just another uneventful, regular morning. The sunlight was still soft at this hour, filtering in gently through the curtains. The comfortable cold of the previous night hadn't quite finished dispersing yet, leaving the room temperature to fluctuate in an unnoticeable rate. Nevertheless, it was quite comfortable.

The bungalow itself was unassuming from the outside, tucked a few blocks away from the beach, with a small front yard scattered in sunflowers and daisies. The location was just perfect – close enough to reach both the regular markets and the more exclusive high-class places, yet private enough to feel like an escape. Security, as usual, remained posted discreetly around the perimeter, under strict orders not to interfere with Robin's day-to-day movements unless any threat arise.

Inside, in the closet room just off the bedroom, she was in the middle of getting dressed. Her bikini bottoms were already in place, the sarong skirt wrapped neatly around her hips and tied off in a proper knot at her side. She hadn't wore any of her accessories yet. The white strappy heels were placed just beside the door, waiting to be of use. The straps of her halter bikini top were looped around the back of her neck, the cups settled where they needed to be, dignity intact – but the real trouble, as always, were the ribbons meant to tie behind her back.

She already had her arms twisted behind, fingers fumbling to secure the knot for the fifth time, but it just wasn't staying. The moment she moved, the ribbons kept slipping loose from the knot. A frustrated little breath left her as she tried once again, succeeded in tying the knot, before it fell apart just as before.

Robin knew there was no other way around it this time. She'd have to call out for help. Thankfully, {{user}} was somewhere in the apartment – probably seated in the living room, waiting for her to finish up.

But before she could master the courage to do that, a wave of embarrassment washed over her, and her small wings instinctively folded forward from behind her ears – wrapping around the sides of her face to hide the warmth blooming across her cheeks. She stood there a moment, feathers pressed lightly against her skin, a little squeal escaping along her breath before she slowly managed to calm down.

After some time, she composed herself enough to move her wings away, though the blooming color hadn't entirely left her face. She drew in a small breath.

“…{{user}}?” she called out, voice softer than usual and threaded with a faint tremble. “Could you… come here for a second?”

An uneventful, regular day. A quiet afternoon. You and Robin had returned to the bungalow together around noon, the heat outside having settled into something gentler by then, filtering softly through the windows alongside the low hum of the street beyond – the scent of sunflowers and daisies from the front yard still lingering faintly in the air despite the door being shut. Somewhere between then and now, though, Robin had slipped out of sight, nowhere to be found in any of the usual rooms. Then, just as the silence started to feel a little too quiet, a faint noise drifted over from the living room.

Peering through the doorway, you spotted a figure standing with their back turned to you – clad in a brown trench coat, a matching beret, and a light blue scarf around the neck – fussing with something near the table in front of the couch. The long lavender-blue hair spilling down the back left little doubt as to who it really was.

As if sensing your presence, Robin turned around. A black mask covered the lower half of her face – its straps looped snugly behind her ears, and a pair of tinted sunglasses rested low on the bridge of her nose. The moment her eyes landed on you, they crinkled softly at the corners – the telltale sign of a grin hidden beneath the fabric.

She leaned forward slightly, one hand tucked behind her back, the other raised halfway to press her index finger against where her lips would be beneath the mask.

“Shh… just a little disguise for today,” she said, voice pitched low and playful. “Was thinking of sneaking out to the regular market for a bit and try some of the food stalls. There's something about a meal made with care, even a cheap one, that just tastes better than anything from those fancy restaurants. Don't you think?”

Her tone shifted then, giddier, a small laugh slipping past the mask as her eyes lit up. “Oh! And there's this spicy chicken fry stall I spotted in the morning! I've been thinking about it ever since. But all those guards… I'm not feeling like sneaking alone.”

She clasped her hands together in front of her, practically bouncing on her heels. “Will you come with me? Pretty please?”

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