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The first time the Reporter tried to tell Birdie that the two dating might spell trouble, it was a Friday night. The two were on the couch in Alice's living room, in early fall. A pumpkin scented candle was burning, everything was warm and cozy, and when the aforementioned girl spoke, it was more insecurity than anything.
“You know, if anyone ever figures out who I am, it could get messy.” The Reporter had said, cuddling up against the girl carding her fingers through their hair.
“It could.” Birdie agreed calmly, softly humming out the tune to something Charlie Brown. Inconceivably, to the girl in her lap at the very least, she didn't seem very disturbed.
“No, I mean for you.” The Reporter elaborated, the smallest bit frustrated.
“I know.”
“People would hate you. As much as they'd hate me, even. You’d be an outcast, nobody would want to talk to you even. You could be bullied.” Alice continued, her frustration growing. Robin just didn't seem to get it.
“Yes, love, that is a possibility.”
Finally, she blurted it out. “Then why do you stay?”
That, in the end, was what made Birdie stiffen. “What do you mean?”
Alice sat up, beginning to gesture around. “Everything is at stake for you. Your friends, your parents probably, even just being able to walk through town without someone glaring at you. All you'd have to do is stop dating me and everything would be safe. So why don't you just break up with me?”
Robin cocked an eyebrow. “Do you want me to break up with you?”
“No.” The Reporter denied, not missing a beat. After a moment, she sagged down a bit, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. “I just- I don't get it. Why do you stay?”
A few seconds passed, and Birdie set her hands on her girlfriend's shoulders, slowly easing her back down into Robin's lap before turning Alice's face towards her's, and making eye contact as she spoke.
“Because you're worth it.” She explained, as if it was the simplest, most obvious thing in the world. The carding of her fingers through her girlfriend’s hair resumed. “And if I didn't stay, who would sit alone with you at lunch?”
That elicited a small laugh, and Alice seemed to accept the answer, however flimsy it was.
She was worth it.
-
The second time the Reporter tried to convince Birdie that she would be better off without them, it was spring. Birds were chirping, the sun was rising, flowers were blooming, and tears were streaming from Alice’s face.
“You just- you don't get it, Bird. You just don't fucking get it.”
The Reporter was in her girlfriend's arms, not unlike how she had been the last time. This time, though, there was no peace. Just security.
“Then help me understand.” Robin told her, her hands finding familiarity in how they stroked the locks of brown hair from the woman in her arms.
“They- they threw a brick through my window, Bird. They know who I am, they know where I am. I could go missing any day, I could go away. And I just can't let you go missing too.”
“I won't go missing.”
“Oh, really?” Alice sneered, her tone ugly despite her puffy eyes. “How do you know? You're chaining yourself to a sinking ship. You're going to drown.”
“You found the pattern yourself, love. I'm too important. They won't take me.”
“Yes, they will.” Hyperventilating breaths escaped the girl speaking.
“And why is that?” Robin’s tone stayed level, even as her girlfriend spiraled.
“Because you're important to me. Because I love you. They're just going to keep on taking and taking over and over until I don't have anyone left to care when I go, and I-” The Reporter devolved into tears, cries that rocked her body. “I can't let that happen to you. Please, just- just break up with me. Get rid of me, forget.”
“You know I can't do that, love.” Birdie reminded her gently.
“Why not?” Alice half-screamed, grief seeming to overtake her as she reached out to touch her girlfriend.
Robin caught her wrists, and pressed a kiss to the back of her right hand before she responded, almost like a mercy. “Because you love me. And I love you. So I have to stay.”
The Reporter collapsed onto her chest, and devolved into exhausted, bone-deep sobs, eventually falling asleep like that.
When Birdie set her into bed, and rolled their head away from her chest, tears still clung to Alice’s face like dew on rose petals. Robin sighed slightly, and crawled into bed by her side.
She was worth it. And they loved each other too much to quit.
-
There were many, many more instances of the such as the two developed, and as time went on. So, when this conversation happened, it was not the third, or the fourth, or even the seventh time that the Reporter asked Birdie why she kept on staying. Instead, it was spring once more, and there were still birds and flowers and a soft, soft sun and the world somehow had not ended and neither had they. And, this time, no tears were present as they spoke.
“I think you should go to the college you got accepted into. The one in New York.” Alice started one morning, leaning up against the kitchen door frame.
Even through her surprise, Robin dissented, a certain lilt to her voice as she turned around. “I don't think I agree.”
“Bird, you could get a degree. You could do anything you wanted, hell you could probably get a side gig in fashion if you really wanted.”
Neither said it, but there was a certain comfort that came with this being their biggest problem, after everything that had happened.
“I could.” Birdie agreed.
“So why don't you?” The frustration leaked back into the Reporter's voice, her tone becoming a bit more aggressive.
“You never really ask me to break up with you, do you?” Birdie chuckled. Alice just glared at her, though, and so she brought out her real reasoning. “I've always known it was going to be Witherburn for you. No matter what. And either way, you're finally being paid to do your broadcast! It's everything you've ever dreamed of, and you love it here. I love you. So I'll stay.”
“This is your whole life, Robin. I just- I don’t want you to waste it on me.” The Reporter bit her lip, nervous.
“You're far from a waste, I'd say.”
Alice huffed, almost fondly. “You would say that, wouldn't you?”
“There’s so much for you and me here, Allie. So I'm not going to leave you for some big city and fancy degree.” Birdie explained, before tacking on. “Plus, my parents would want me home for the winter holidays. And you know how I hate Hallmark movies.”
The Reporter laughed, like a bell, and for a moment Robin was just so wholly grateful that her lover could still laugh like that. Clear, unabashed, with none of the weight on her chest she had had in the past.
It was only a moment, though, because then her girlfriend was wrapping her in their arms, and sweeping them into a kiss.
God, they loved each other, and god it was worth it.
After all, Birdie was not so easily shaken off.
And yeah, they would make a terrible hallmark movie.