His heart needs the time, though Robby doesn't know that. As Mister LaRusso takes the bowl, says that he'll go first, Robby rolls up his sleeve to keep it clean when he dips in his palm seems insufficient. So he pauses, and then silently peels off his button shirt instead to free his arms.
Familial bonds go on the limbs, and there's a mark that Mister LaRusso will be able to see on the very upper portion of an arm, what looks like a burn mark, or an odd birthmark for its colouring--the bond he got with Mob that he was always manage to keep hidden under halfway or full-length sleeves, but that he now has no reason to hide away.
He gives his arms a shake, just for what's about to happen, a small uncertainty of what to do with his limbs that's superficial. And then Mister LaRusso asks his question, and Robby takes in a breath. Nods when he exhales, and holds up both his arms so that Mister LaRusso can choose whichever he will.
And his mind comes to some conclusion--or, rather, it remembers why the two of them are here for. Why he wanted this in the first place.
"...whatever happens, I'll talk to you before things get bad, if you talk to me too. I don't want you to suffer this hell alone--and I don't want to be the reason you're suffering in it. We'll protect each other, and try to protect our friends, too. And when we can't--" because they can't always, and the recognition trembles in Robby's voice, "--then we'll be honest. About how it hurts."
He rolls his lips together, presses them between his teeth. "But we won't let the past keep holding us back. We'll be stronger than it."
He looks at his dad--his soon-to-be, his currently, whatever anyone would think father: "...I'll talk to everyone. That I hurt. I won't let myself spiral."
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Familial bonds go on the limbs, and there's a mark that Mister LaRusso will be able to see on the very upper portion of an arm, what looks like a burn mark, or an odd birthmark for its colouring--the bond he got with Mob that he was always manage to keep hidden under halfway or full-length sleeves, but that he now has no reason to hide away.
He gives his arms a shake, just for what's about to happen, a small uncertainty of what to do with his limbs that's superficial. And then Mister LaRusso asks his question, and Robby takes in a breath. Nods when he exhales, and holds up both his arms so that Mister LaRusso can choose whichever he will.
And his mind comes to some conclusion--or, rather, it remembers why the two of them are here for. Why he wanted this in the first place.
"...whatever happens, I'll talk to you before things get bad, if you talk to me too. I don't want you to suffer this hell alone--and I don't want to be the reason you're suffering in it. We'll protect each other, and try to protect our friends, too. And when we can't--" because they can't always, and the recognition trembles in Robby's voice, "--then we'll be honest. About how it hurts."
He rolls his lips together, presses them between his teeth. "But we won't let the past keep holding us back. We'll be stronger than it."
He looks at his dad--his soon-to-be, his currently, whatever anyone would think father: "...I'll talk to everyone. That I hurt. I won't let myself spiral."
Not again.