#you do not need to reply with this length robin just doesnt shut up

[witchcraftandburialdirt]

✧ ━━ 𝐀𝐍 𝐈𝐍𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐄𝐀 @tealbeats

"I want to personally thank you for accepting my invitation to tea this afternoon, Ezreal, I am well aware of how busy your schedule can be."

Robin’s voice was warm as he grinned from across the room, the door open in preparation for his arrival. The assistant lounged comfortably on one of the two plush couches in his stylish high rise office ( perfectly placed on the eighth floor ) , both elegantly facing a beautifully carved wooden coffee table that served as the centerpiece of the space. The table was adorned with a steaming tea set, delicate porcelain cups waiting to be filled, alongside a deck of cards and a vintage ashtray that looked as though it had been plucked right out of a glamorous 1950s Hollywood film. A few plants here and there. With a gentle gesture, Robin beckoned Ezreal to join him with green, inviting eyes ━ "So, we have a business deal coming up with another production company soon," he continued, his tone sweet while delicate hands lifted the pot to pour the steaming water. The moment the water met the leaves, it brought forth the soothing aroma of bergamot; a citrusy sweetness that mingled with the earthy undertones of the black tea. Plumes of steam mingled with soft strains of piano music, "and I'm to conduct interviews for the various members of Heartsteel to see if any of you fit the 'young handsome talent' position we'll inevitably need. You can imagine my enthusiam at such a task."

As he rose from his relaxed position, the warmth of the room began to shift, it didn't change too much however, his eyes crinkling at the sight of Ezreal settling across from him. He poured a delicate cup for his guest, "There you are, please do tell me if you need cream or sugar, I find it can be somewhat bitter for unexperienced palettes. Should we have more meetings, I'll fetch something a bit less intense." Robin lifted his cup to his mouth with a pleased sigh, peeking over the amber liquid to his guest before he lowered it slightly. His index finger tapped the rim of his glass twice, "Miss Evelynn has told me much about you," he began, "Rising back up the charts must be a very exhilarating feeling for you; I imagine you're quite proud of all that you've gained in these recent times. Congratulations." A chuckle left him, floating daintily through the air like dandelion fluffs, and he placed his tea cup down with a quiet clink.

"But ... before we begin with the interview, there is something I was hoping to discuss with you," he sighed wearily with a shake of his head as he leaned back; fingers moving to the tuft of fluffy hair beside his left ear. "You see, you have put me in quite an awkward position, Ezreal." He continued, his tone now tinged with a hint of exasperation. "Ahh, I've grown quite fond of you in our time working together, but you've reaped quite a bit of trouble for yourself by sneaking and poking around where you don't belong." He paused, a playful smile gracing his lips as he tilted his head slightly. Then, quickly to follow in a croon, that grin unmoving, "Oh my, my apologies, I realize that may be a sensitive topic regarding your personal history."

The door slammed shut with a resounding thud, the deadbolt sliding into place with a sharp click. Instantly, the atmosphere shifted; the air around him felt thicker, colder, as if an unseen chill had seeped in alongside the newest member of their meeting. Just then, a hand emerged from the shadows, gliding over the back of the couch where Ezreal sat. The newcomer had appeared with nought even a whisper, as though he had had simply manifested from the ether. The voice that broke the stillness was unnervingly familiar, whatever last memories the pop prince had of his late father seemed to fuel the tone and timbre of the newcomer, “Our deepest sympathies for your loss, Mr. Lightfeather." Crimson eyes glinted like embers from beneath a shadowed brow, their gaze fixed downwards as he loomed beside Ezreal. The stark contrast of his silhouette against the flickering light rendered his features nearly indistinguishable, but just as quickly as he had appeared, he turned away, deliberately shifting the focus to Robin while settling in a chair that faced away and only let Ezreal look into slicked black locks.

"Mm, Abel, what a pleasant surprise. I was relaying the situation to our friend before you oh so rudely interrupted." A softer, genuine expression crossed his face at the new visitor's huff of amusement, but all too soon the smile he wore faded with his dry words, and was now replaced by a measured calmness. Robin straightened, his long, wintry lashes casting shadows over his cheekbones as he regarded Ezreal with a wearisome glance. His kindness looked … forced.

"Thanks to you, I have to worry about text messages, calls, recorded lines, addresses ━ it's quite a bit of stress. And now all of the hard work I've done over the course of four years could be destroyed by a mere whim you may have ━ maybe to tell your Uncle. No doubt with how close you both are." Slowly, though, Robin's stare darkened into a cold husk of its former self, as though all of the warmth and kindness within it had died and rotted away under the worm's tooth. " ... I know what it was you saw on August 6th," he declared, his voice dropping to a chilling whisper, "Surely you don't think I'm the type of man who would be satisfied with the destruction of my work. I'm sure we're likeminded in that regard, aren't we? It would be a shame to lose it all over something silly."

A bubbling and bright expression lit his face anew as he cut in swiftly, interrupting Ezreal before he could even hope to muster a defense, lifting a slender hand between them, "Oh, it must seem like I'm waiting to hear some sort of excuse or apology," he began, a teasing lilt in his voice, "I'm sorry for giving you the wrong idea." While he spoke Robin's gaze flickered towards Abel, whose raven-black hair framed a face carved from shadows. His supposed partner, with an air of 'this is just another Tuesday', lit a cigarette; the flame dancing briefly before yielding to a thin wisp of smoke that curled and twisted, slowly ascending until fading into the florescent light above the trio. It was steady … the man didn't even appear to be breathing. Robin's eyes slowly rolled within his sockets to focus on Ezreal again, a hollow, almost penetrating stare that seemed to peer straight through him. Robin took another sip of his tea, humming before offering him a forgiving ━ no, a merciful, grin:

“As I said, I've grown fond of you in our time working together so far, so I wanted to catch you before you made any mistakes that you may regret later, I would like to at least be able to properly interview you for that new up and coming production. As such, with the difficulties you've caused me, it would only be appropriate for you to lend me your cooperation on the matter and save me the trouble of giving you the motivation to do so.” His hand touched his chest in a show of earnestness, the sincerity of which could not be read, and a sweet smile stretched across his lips — one that did not reach his eyes. Poor poor thing. The corners of his brows curled upwards in dubious concern,

"I do hope I've been clear enough in my words, and that we understand eachother?"