She knew-.. Robin was sure of it.
Despite her warmth, he’d always been slightly unnerved by aunt Alma’s presence; there was something odd about her that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Some people were harder to read than others, like Alex, but it was still possible.
Alma’s mind was like an impenetrable vault in comparison. Any attempts to feel or hear anything she did were met with a metaphorical brick wall, leaving him reeling as though he’d collided with it head first-.. but not tonight. Tonight, Alma was like an open book, and Robin was convinced she was doing it on purpose.
She’d told him all about her struggles as a child; how she didn’t fit in, how people teased her for being too sensitive, how hard it was to figure out who she was amongst the clamour of everyone else’s inner most image of themselves-.. all the while allowing him unlimited access to those very memories, like a handpicked blooper reel, just for him. Of course, that wasn’t the case though.. was it?
Alma had stopped talking now, but Robin still wasn’t sure how to react. He sat in silence instead, staring at nothing in particular for far longer than what could be considered normal.
“Can you hear me?” he thought, deciding to try a little experiment.
Nothing. Okay, so she couldn’t read his mind-.. then what the heck was she getting at? How had she so succinctly summed up his entire existence in less than fifteen minutes?
“I would’ve liked somewhere as quiet as this when I was young, it’s a shame we didn’t have an attic…” Alma offered, clearly trying to relate to Robin’s situation in any way she could. He still wasn’t entirely sure why, but she clearly wanted to help, and Robin didn’t know anyone else who understood him as well as she did, so perhaps he ought to let her try. He finally abandoned his switch and cautiously joined her atop his favourite, motheaten couch.
“What’re you getting at?” he said bluntly, curiosity getting the better of his manners.
Alma chuckled softly, “You’re just like your father.”
“It’s genetics, apparently…” Robin let loose a brief grin, glad to be compared to Oscar.
“I don’t know how exactly, but you’re different, Robin-.. and I thought it high time you knew you weren’t alone, and that we can’t let these things get the best of us.” Alma smiled softly as she spoke, but Robin was still too wary to be completely transparent.
“We?” he asked, dubiously.
“We’re few and far between, but you’re certainly not the only one who’s a little.. special, shall we say? That’s better than different, maybe?” Alma suggested.
Robin hummed thoughtfully, shaking his head, “Special is just another word for different, or weird.”
Alma scoffed playfully, “And what’s wrong with being weird? I’m weird-.. we’re all a bit weird!”
“How’re you weird?” Robin asked, squinting at Alma accusingly.
“Well, I can sense things I certainly shouldn’t be able to.” Alma started, excited to be getting somewhere. “Emotions radiate from people like a space heater-.. they’re not always pleasant, of course, but I can soak them up if I want to.”
Robin blinked, “Only if you want to..?”
“Uh-huh.” Alma nodded.
“You can block it out?!” Robin spluttered, suddenly and completely forgetting to maintain his ignorance before swiftly correcting himself. “I mean-.. it sounds like you can pick and choose, right?”
Alma nodded once more, “It wasn’t easy, but I spent a lot of years practicing.”
“Years?” Robin sounded crestfallen.
“I didn’t have a mentor…” Alma winked.
Robin allowed himself to smirk, figuring he might as well drop at least part of the act at this point. He was still a little nervous about being approached about such things so brazenly, but at least he knew why Alma perturbed him so much now, she was blocking him out on purpose-.. and she couldn’t read his mind either, which was always a plus.
The last thing he wanted was for anyone to know that he possessed that particular ability. Who’d want to hang out with someone who could access their inner most thoughts, the one’s they’d never dream of saying out loud? He shuddered involuntarily, hoping he’d never meet anyone that could read his.
Clementine finally nudged Robin, dragging him back to the present with her ghostly touch. “She looked right at me just then-.. she smiled! Did you see?”
Robin spun around, realising that Alma had almost begun her descent. He must’ve missed her goodbye.
“Wait!”
Alma paused expectantly, causing Robin to second guess himself and retreat into silence.
“I won’t be far, sweetheart-.. whenever you’re ready.”
Robin shivered as Clementine poked him again, “She can definitely see me…”
“Can you, uh-…”
“See the ghost poking you?” Alma giggled, sounding far younger than she was.
The vault doors had snapped shut again by now, but Robin got the impression that aunt Alma was just as excited as he was to find someone else who was weird. “Can you hear her?”
“Maybe-.. though I’m quite sure she hasn’t said anything yet.” Alma peered at Clementine expectantly.
“Hey!” Clementine exclaimed as Robin tried to shove her into action, his hand ending up halfway through her waist instead.
“What? It’s not like you can feel it.” Robin snorted.
Alma laughed heartily, thoroughly amused. “Well, I heard that-.. you two are good friends, huh?”
Robin nodded slightly, releasing a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. “I thought I was the only one who could see her-.. that maybe I was going insane…”
“Far from it, honey! You hit me up whenever you feel like it, okay?”
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