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  3rd POV

  Robin closed Ted’s bedroom door softly behind her and stepped into the living room. She took a slow breath, only now realizing she was not alone.

  A few people were slumped around the apartment like fallen soldiers after a long battle or more specifically, like a hobo.

  Marshall and Barney sat on the couch, both groaning, their faces pale with regret and hangover. Lily was the only one functioning, standing at the stove with a pan in hand, trying to cook something while nursing her own headache.

  When the sound of the door opening reached her ears, Lily turned. She saw Robin, head low, shoulders stiff, clearly trying to escape before anyone noticed.

  “Hey, Robin…” Lily called out gently. Unfortunately, her voice came out in a squeaky, higher tone—something no one with a hangover wanted to hear. Lily herself winced.

  She remembered everything only up until her first glass of Barney’s fancy wine…

  …..After that—nothing but blackout and a couch.

  “…Do you want some pancake?” Lily offered quietly, lifting her pan slightly.

  Robin paused for a moment. She gave Lily a small, tired smile, grateful Lily wasn't immediately teasing her with questions or jokes about whatever happened last night. At least someone was handling this with grace.

  Then Barney opened his mouth.

  “…Forget it, Lily,” he groaned without even looking up. “....That, my friend, is what you call a walk of shame. Seen it many times. Done it many times….” He didn’t even look at Robin, but he said that really so proud and so…accurate.

  Robin froze with her eyes widened and then shot Barney a death glare sharp enough to cut through his skull. Without another word, she stormed out, heels clicking angrily against the floor.

  “Robin—! Ow…” Lily tried to call out, words stabbing her headache like tiny needles. Marshall, beside Barney, didn’t even lift his head. His hangover was too brutal to participate in life at the moment.

  Lily exhaled, glared at Barney, and mentally noted to call Robin later.

  “…You big, giant—ass!” she muttered under her breath. Yeah, they are friends and likely she already knows what a demon Barney is.

  Barney turned his eyes toward her lazily, shrugged, and returned to suffering in silence.

  “...I’m outta here,” Barney finally declared, pushing himself up….. “I HAVE AN APPOINTMENT WITH A HOT BLO—”

  He didn’t even finish his sentence before a pillow smacked him in the face, the love gesture of Marshall’s weak but determined protest.

  Barney only chuckled, swayed like a confused giraffe or maybe monkey, and slowly made his way out the door—barely walking in a straight line.

  Silence settled again which is being respected by the people in this room.

  Marshall lay motionless.

  Lily continued cooking, the sound of sizzling batter soft and homey.

  For a moment, the apartment felt peaceful.

  …..Then Ted stepped out of his room—bright-eyed, cheerful, and annoyingly unaffected by a hangover.

  “Good morning, people!” he announced with a wide grin—instantly causing Marshall to groan like a dying walrus. Lily even dropped her spatula from the sudden noise.

  “…Ted…” Marshall muttered weakly, rubbing his forehead. He didn’t bother to open his eyes.

  “Sorry, sorry,” Ted laughed and walked to the bathroom and cleaned himself. The room became quiet again for a few minutes right now.

  Of course, Ted comes back to the living room, now with his towel around his waist and singing something like he owns the room, making Marshall groan again. Ted walked to his room and get dressed, same energy and same song in his mouth.

  When he came out again, Marshall was still looking like a dead fish and Lily had already done her pancakes cook and sitting to the table right now.

  “....Lily, did you make pancakes for me too?” he said quietly and looked expectantly towards Lily. With a silly smile.

  “....I only made enough for me and Marshall,” Lily replied, putting some syrup on her own pancake.

  Ted pouted, looking at Lily like she’s betraying a sacred thing between three of them.

  “Hmmph… engaged couples always forget about the single guy. I feel betrayed.”

  Marshall let out a suffering breath. “…Ted, please… hangover morning. Quiet….”

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  Ted raised both hands in surrender, chuckling.

  “All right, all right. Happy hangover to you both. Marshall, don’t forget your paper.” He said happily and Marshall cursed Ted or maybe his professor under his breath.

  Ted just chuckled and started toward the door. Neither Lily nor Marshall asked where he was going—nobody had enough energy to care about him right now.

  But Lily called out, voice softer this time, stopping him before he walked out.

  “…Ted,” she said, stepping closer. “Robin left earlier. She looked upset because of Barney. I was going to call her later, but… I think you should call her first.”

  Ted paused. His expression shifted—brightness dimming, something thoughtful in his eyes.

  “…Yeah,” he nodded. “Okay. Thanks Lil.”

  And with that, he stepped out of the apartment, closing the door quietly behind him.

  —-------

  Ted POV

  I can still feel her love.

  You know what I mean, right?

  I wasn’t that drunk last night. I played along with her little game.

  Yup, I lied to her. You can’t possibly tell Robin how embarrassing that moment was, right?

  Hearing her call me Daddy over and over while practically bending toward me?

  She was embarrassed, and pretending I didn’t remember was the best move I could make.

  Okay, yeah, maybe I was drunk a little. But not the kind of drunk that makes you vomit or blackout. Not the kind that wipes the memory the next morning.

  And I would never forget what we did last night….on the roof, on my bed, all of it.

  It was… amazing.

  But today, I got a phone call from Claire, and it seems Robin got the wrong idea.

  She’s not mad at Barney.

  Well, maybe she is mad at Barney, but I know the real issue is with me.

  Am I afraid?

  Not really. She likes me. I know she does.

  So I went to her apartment.

  “...Go away, Ted.”

  And just like that — I got rejected before I even stepped inside.

  I stood outside her door, knocking gently, trying to make her open up.

  Robin didn’t open it. Her voice came only from behind the door — cold, distant.

  “Come on, Robin. It wasn’t a mistake,” I said softly. “Please, open the door for me?”

  “…No, Ted. It was a mistake.”

  Her words hit my chest lightly.

  But I knew….I knew she enjoyed that night just as much as I did.

  “I know you’re lying, Robin,” I said, unable to help the small laugh in my voice. “....Giving me an erotic tutorial on how to dress properly is not exactly a ‘mistake’ energy.”

  I heard her cough, a little embarrassed are you huh? .

  “Stop remembering that! That was the second mistake I made!” she yelled.

  I sighed, leaning my forehead against her door.

  “Robin, stop lying to yourself. I know you like me.”

  I lowered my voice. “....You can’t just switch off your feelings. People don’t have a switch for that.”

  Suddenly, I heard the lock click.

  I immediately stepped back, fixing the best grin I could manage on my face.

  The door opened, and there she was, hair still messy, pajamas loose and her dogs rushing past her feet to circle mine.

  “Hey, Robin. Good morning,” I said, grinning stupidly while petting her dogs.

  “You’re right, Ted. There’s no switch.”

  Robin’s voice was calmer now, but her eyes were still heavy with frustration and something softer beneath it.

  “Yes, I know there’s something here between us. And it makes me feel stupid and crazy. We barely know each other, Ted, yet it feels like you want me more than anything in this world.”

  I looked up at her.

  Her walls were shaking, but not yet falling.

  She crossed her arms with her pajama barely covering her, standing like she was ready to jump off a cliff or run from it.

  “You look at me like….i don't know…like you want us to fall in love. To stay in love. Till death do us part kinda thing!”

  She laughed once, breath shaky.

  “It drives me insane, Ted.”

  “Why lie again, Robin?” I kept my voice quiet, steady. “You said you had work. But here you are, in pajamas. You know you like me Robin, it's not a nothing between us.” I said again and looked at her, before my voice barely whispered.

  “....You’re running away.”

  Her jaw tightened.

  “Yes! Happy? I’m running away! I don’t want to be tied like that!”

  Her voice shrank to a painful whisper. “It’s not me, Ted…” She shook her head, eyes glassy. “…I think you should go.”

  She tried to close the door, but I caught her hand first and stopped her from closing the door with my body.

  “I know you like me,” I said, softer now. “I know you want to be with me. I know you’re scared and denying it — I get it.”

  She didn’t pull her hand away.

  Her eyes met mine with a little conflicted, raw, it's kinda…honest.

  “I’m not the kind of guy who simps for girls,” I murmured. “But I want you.”

  Robin’s expression trembled, strong yet fragile at the same time.

  “Ted… please. Just go.”

  Her voice cracked.

  “I don’t want you. Because I can see where we end up. Either I marry you, or I break your heart.”

  She looked straight into me.

  “...And I can’t do either.”

  I inhaled slowly.

  Robin is my friend. My future friend, like the show told us.

  And I don’t want to break that.

  “…Then break my heart. Right now,” I said — stupidly — but truthfully.

  “So you won’t have to later. What do you say?”

  She opened her eyes so wide before she laughed softly — the kind that hides pain under humor.

  “I told you I can’t do that.”

  She smiled, small but real. “I can't be your girlfriend, but we can still be friends, Ted.”

  “That’s it… you broke my heart, Robin Scherbatsky,” I said, putting my hands on my chest and pretending to be hurt.

  She rolled her eyes, amused. “I said that, but yes — we can still be friends.” Her eyes challenged me to repeat it.

  “Alright….it hurts so much…but we can still be friends, Robin Scherbatsky from Canada,” I said back which made her laugh again softly.

  But, I was still holding her hand, rubbing it softly.

  …..And I didn’t want to let go.

  “…Can I still kiss you now?” I asked something stupid again.

  “...You can’t,” she whispered with a smile, but she didn’t pull away.

  So I cupped her cheek slowly. She didn’t stop me.

  Our eyes held, with the same warmth as mine.

  Something flickered between us again.

  “....This is the last kiss, friend Robin,” I murmured.

  “…Fine, friend Ted.” She leaned in, just a little. “...This is the last.”

  …And we kissed.

  Not a drunk kiss like last night, but a kiss with awareness, hesitation, and longing.

  Her lips moved with mine, slow at first, then deeper —

  Her hands gripped my shirt, pulling me closer,

  our tongues brushing,

  sparks racing through my spine.

  Her frustration melted into the kiss. Her fear, her want, her denial, all of it tangled there.

  Robin is strong. Independent.

  A woman who doesn’t need anyone.

  But she is also human.

  She needs warmth, safety, love, just like everyone else. She can be what she wants to be, and nobody can decide for what she wants to be.

  She is a strong woman.

  We parted slowly, foreheads touching, breaths tickling our nose.

  “…Yeah. No off switch,” she whispered.

  “....This scares me, Ted, and….If you don’t want to be my friend, I understand.”

  “I know,” I said gently. “It’s okay. I won’t force you. I understand.”

  I loosened my embrace.

  She loosened hers.

  “…Yes. We can be friends, Robin,” I said. “How about tonight at MacLaren’s?”

  “…Can we switch bars?” she asked quietly and I remembered how I carried her while everyone stared last night.

  Of course the one who is still sober up.

  “No.”