Robin, Tess, and [no one]
“Whatever,” Robin grumbles, super intent on his apple, super duper hoping that that one word was going to a) get Tess to move off the topic, and b) like magically get them unstuck, probably.
It didn’t.
It didn’t do either of those things.
Three times, Robin tries to turn to her and say something, and three times he changes his mind and goes back to his snack. But apples don’t last forever, Robin. Friendships do.
“Fucking fine,” he grumbles and throws his apple core into the woods, “maybe I was bein’ a little weird. Maybe that’s what my fucking problem is, knowin' I'm bein’ weird.”