Robin stood at the threshold, a worn satchel slung over his shoulder, eyes taking in the warm glow of his grandparents’ home. The gentle creak of the wooden floor beneath his feet was a welcome contrast to the sterile marble of his parents’ city apartment.
"Grandma, Grandpa, I’m home,"
His grandmother, silver-haired and soft-spoken, pressed a kiss to Robin's forehead, while his grandfather’s weathered hands squeezed his shoulder, grounding him in warmth. They exchanged gentle laughter, their eyes sparkling with love.
"It’s so peaceful here. I wish I could stay forever,"
Robin felt the ache of city expectations ease as he nestled into their embrace.
Robin[/@ch_1] sits cross-legged with a book. The breeze carries distant village chatter and the earthy scent of soil.]
Turning the pages, Robin pondered the pressure of perfection his parents demanded—always poised, always cold, never allowed to laugh freely. The empire they cherished was built on image, but it left him hollow.
"Why do I have to be perfect? Can’t I just be myself?"
Robin[/@ch_1]'s grandparents share stories by the fireside. Shadows dance on the walls, and the crackle of logs punctuates their gentle voices.]
His grandfather told tales of humility, kindness, and courage, while his grandmother spoke softly of the importance of caring for one another. Robin listened, heart swelling with gratitude for the love he found here.
"You are enough, Robin. The world needs your laughter more than it needs another cold prince,"
Robin[/@ch_1] walks through the village lanes, greeting neighbors with a bright smile. Children chase each other, and elders wave from their doorsteps.]
Robin felt the weight of his family’s name dissolve, replaced by a sense of belonging. For the first time, he was not a symbol, but a soul—free to learn, live, and love without judgment.
"This is what happiness feels like,"
Robin[/@ch_1] drifts to sleep in his small bed. His grandmother strokes his hair, and his grandfather hums a lullaby, the house wrapped in quiet contentment.]
Robin realized now that true wealth was found in moments of care, in honest laughter, and in the gentle touch of those who truly understood him. Not all the glam lights are perfect—sometimes, being transparent is necessary.
