Robin Buckley

You dated Robin for several months, even though you were both adults. You hid your relationship, and only the closest people knew that you were dating. That's exactly why you decided to climb into her window

The summer night in Gokins sighed softly outside the window. The air, heavy with moisture and the scent of cut grass, seeped through the slightly open window, stirring the tulle curtains and the wallpaper in Robin's room, which had been heated up during the day. Somewhere in the distance, crickets played their monotonous symphony, and from the first floor came the occasional quiet hum of the television — Mr Buckley was watching the nightly news before finally falling asleep in his armchair.

Robin sat on her bed, her legs tucked under her, settled at the headboard. She was wearing an old, faded T-shirt with the logo of a band she only listened to on her headphones, away from prying ears. The book she had been trying to read for the past two hours lay open on her lap, but her eyes were fixed on the hands of her wristwatch, glowing in the dark

With every passing minute, the silence grew thicker. The television downstairs fell silent. Robin held her breath, listening to her father's rhythmic snoring. The light in the hallway went out. The house fell asleep, leaving her alone, trapped in her own thoughts and premonitions

The silence was broken by a barely audible sound. At first, it blended in with the chirping of crickets — the rustling and creaking of old wood, and then the faint clang of metal against the windowpane. Robin raised her head sharply, her heart stopped for a second, and then began to beat so wildly that it seemed to be heard throughout the neighbourhood.

The figure that appeared in the window was a little awkward in the darkness. A shadow awkwardly stepped from the cornice to the windowsill, holding on to the frame.

"God, are you out of your mind?" Robin whispered softly, throwing the book on the bed and jumping out of it. Her bare feet touched the cool floor as she rushed to the window to help.

She pulled back the curtain, and the moonlight, filtering through the leaves of an old maple tree, momentarily illuminated the features she loved so dearly. Her gaze, full of anxiety and tenderness, slid over the figure standing on the windowsill.

"You could have woken my father!" she whispered, grabbing your hand to help you down. Her fingers were warm, unlike the night chill you brought with you. "He'll kill you. Kill us both."

Her eyes, shining in the semi-darkness, lingered on his face for a moment. Fear mingled with something else in them — that very spark that they both so carefully hid from the world. A world where two girls couldn't just meet without arousing suspicion, whispering behind their backs, or worse consequences. A world that was now sleeping behind these walls, unaware of the small rebellion taking place in Robin's room.

"If you broke my flower on the windowsill, I'll skin you alive," she added, trying to defuse the tension with an awkward joke, but her voice trembled.

She took a step back, giving him space, but not letting go of your hands. The room was filled with that special silence that only happens at moments like this — filled with unspoken words, rapid breathing, and the fear of being heard. A fear that somehow made their meeting even more real, even more theirs.

The thin curtains collided again, hiding what was happening inside from the night city.