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The dungeons still had no power, but even if they'd been lit, the hallways would feel foreboding. As it was, the doors themselves were either steel bars, or actual dungeon wooden doors. Robert had moved far enough away from all the new recruits to snag a door that was made of wood, and therefore not see through.

There was a real authentic looking knocker on it, too. It practically begged for a knocking.

The sound of a man screaming muffled through the door. Several seconds later, Robert opened the door, shirtless and barely pantsed - after all, whoever was at the door did not need a show. So he'd thrown a pair on, but finished buttoning them after opening the door. "Boss!" He huffed out, swinging the door wide open and getting out of the way to let him in. "Come on inside, sorry it's a mess. I didn't expect - anyone - well. Anyone."

He bent over and started frisking the floor for the closest to clean shirt he could find.

"Eureka." Robert - yes, Robert - mumbled under his breath after pulling a shirt up and sniffing it. It was clean.. ish. This might have had a lot to do with the fact that it was a button up shirt, and Robert hated those. But he put it on, regardless. He just. Didn't button it.

Enough was enough.

"You coulda texted me. I woulda told you." He offered kindly, moving to sit down on his bed - there was nowhere else to sit, just yet. He pushed back to lean on the wall, and to give Jordan room to sit down as well. Then he looked up at his best friend, and smiled. It was a heartbreakingly sad smile.

He knew why Jordan was here.

"Sit down, take a load off."

That was why Jordan was his best friend. He respected him enough to just come and ask, and he brought liquor to soothe the blow of talking about it. Robert just wanted to cry, he loved the man so much. But instead, he took the flash, stared at Jordan with wet, thankful eyes, and opened it up to take a long, long swig.

Best. Best friend. He thought about getting a tattoo of Jordan on his arm, but then he considered the implications, and decided against it.

"It's over." He answered simply. His voice did not crack, this time. "I did it, and it's over." Ah, but there was the crack. He brought the flask up to his lips, but left it there for a moment, talking into it with a hollow echo. "Strange, though. I thought telling you would hurt more. But now it just feels final."

Just as he did with Jerry, Robert carefully considered what details were meant to be shared, and which were meant to go to his grave with. Petra's privacy deserved to be respected, even if he did want to lie down and sob out every detail to his best friend. So he thought about it, and nodded when he felt like he knew where he stood.

"I kissed somebody. It wasn't even like, some - I mean she needed help and I knew I could - whatever, the point is, I kissed somebody. And I told Petra about it. But by the time I could, I realized my heart was already starting to betray her." He stopped to take another swig, a quick one, because the words were rushing out by now. "Petra deserves somebody who can love her, and only her. I thought that was gonna be me. It should have been me. But it wasn't me. So I left."

His fingers pressed hard on the flask, leaving fingertips, and he smudged them to see the light trail across the metal. "I failed her in every sense of the word."

Jordan's observation made Robert cringe, because he was right. And yet, he was sure he had failed, because it didn't make sense to him that he could feel this way for two women at once. He fell silent, allowing the guilt to sink in deep and wrap dark tendrils around his already aching heart. He looked at the flask, but he didn't drink anymore. It was just another punishment.

When he finally handed the flask back to his friend, he broke the silence with a sigh. "Jordan, I'm in so deep. I hate myself more than I've ever hated myself before, but that somehow isn't enough to stop me from loving her." He flickered his eyes to the man beside him, and widened them. "Or her. Jerry told me I was lucky to have what I did, and he's right. So why am I falling so hard for someone else? Am I really that ********' selfish?"

Putting it in perspective through his own experiences, Robert tried to compare the situation he was in with the one Jordan had found himself in some time ago. Then he cringed. Nothing was ever that easy. And for some reason, the idea didn't appeal to him, either. Something about two very calculating women in a room together with nothing but him for a buffer..

There was nothing sexy about this idea. At all. In fact, he was fairly sure it would end his life faster than the Hunters.

"Boy, I tell you what though." He whispered in slow, and concerning revelation. "I sure do have a type."