On both sides of the path are prairie fields, stretching as far as the eye can see. You pause when a sudden breeze rolls through the area, threading your hair, and turn to look at your girlfriend.
She's still. Her eyes roam over the sprightly surroundings, taking in the greenery of the countryside. For all her complaints about the isolation and lack of facilities, Weiss is obviously enjoying herself.
"I've never seen so much green, before." She turns to look at you. You don't bother to mask the wide smile stretching from cheek to cheek. "My make up must be stunning if you're staring at me instead of the wildlife around us."
The light yellow sundress sits perfectly on her petite frame, just looking at her could make the goddess of beauty weep. But you don't tell her that, and merely roll your eyes.
You beckon her over. She trots toward you and follows your gaze, lowering it to the patch of flowers on the side of the road.
She breaks into a brilliant smile, and your chest swells with emotion. The past week of attending meetings with snobby businessmen and trophy wives had put her in a perpetual state of annoyance not even hot chocolate could cure. You're happy to see her enjoying herself.
You'd previously planned on a trip to the city. In the end, you decided it wasn't ideal, not when Weiss saw four walls of a building during her every waking moment. You ended up turning to Ruby for help. She'd suggested visiting the settlement in Mistral, and you'd jumped at the idea.
You needled your girlfriend on taking a break, and after a short argument about how her pile of never ending paperwork wouldn't grow legs or make a daring escape out the window, she finally acquiesced to a short vacation.
"Do you know what species they are?" She asks.
"Wild carrot, I think." You are pleased to recall the titbit. "Or if you want to get scientific, the Daucus carota."
Weiss bends down to caress them. "I had no idea you liked flowers." She says, fingertip gently brushing the soft, cottonlike head.
"Nah, I read it off a brochure on the plane." You chuckle at her quiet groan, and bend down to join her in admiring the flower. It barely resembled a carrot, white instead of orange, but no one said names had to make sense. "It's pretty, though. I like the colour."
"Real subtle." Her tone is dry, but her smile is genuine. You lean in and peck her on the cheek.
"Subtle is my middle name."
"Be careful. I might petition to make to make it happen." She says, wrapping an arm around your waist. You beam. "Sun 'Subtle' Wukong. On second thought, it's too much of a mouthful."
"I'm sure you'd be up to the challenge." Her cheeks turn fiery red. You jump when she pinches you. "Ow! Man, tough crowd."
"Cease your lewd comments. I won't let you ruin a romantic moment with your trashy pick up lines." She scolds, shaking her head. You let your tail snake up her free hand, curling around her wrist. Then you lift it to your mouth, and press a kiss on the back of her knuckles. The red on her cheeks grows darker by several notches.
You grin. "How's that for romantic?"
Weiss huffs and looks away. "Passable."
The arm around your waist gives you a soft squeeze. You laugh and prod her to start walking. The two of you start down the path towards the small cabin, rented for the duration of the stay, silently basking in contentment that's draped over your shoulders like warm sunlight.
Dinner is a simple affair. From both of your combined efforts, a pie is born. With the accompanying side dishes you'd bought from town, there's a perfect balance of meat and vegetables stuffed in your stomach. Weiss boils some water with a kettle – "I can't believe this doesn't use dust!" – and makes a pot of chamomile tea.
The fragrance seeps into the grain of the cabin, like a footprint in sand. Even when you've both retired to bed, it lingers.
Her hand traces lazy circles on your bare chest. Moonlight filters through the clouded glass of the window, framing her angular cheekbones and full lips. You lean in to steal a kiss. "How are you feeling?"
"Tired." She yawns. "Happy."
"Perfect," you say, "Do you think I could win that boyfriend of the year award all the girls are talking about these days?" You've seen those magazines in grocery stores when you're out shopping. You've read a few when you were bored. They were hilarious, if albeit exaggerated.
"Those gossip rags are worth less than the paper they're printed on." Weiss murmurs. "I'd suggest better reading materials."
"Ninja's of love?"
Weiss leans back, one eyebrow rising. "No boyfriend of mine will be allowed to read that filth."
"I would be upset, but then I remember you have the entire set hidden behind your Dust Theory texts in the apartment." She glares. You giggle mischievously and tickle her calf with your tail. Her fierce expression melts into something soft. "It's okay, Weiss. Your secret is safe with me."
"My hero." She says, and presses a open mouth kissed on your collarbone. You shiver. "Every good deed deserves a reward."
You give her a coy smile. "We'll stay in bed till eleven."
Her smile falls. "I regret it already."
"I'll throw in some cuddling to sweeten the deal." You run your fingers through her snow white hair, marvelling at the softness. "How 'bout it?"
Weiss giggles, the sound like the tinkling of windchimes. "We'll make a business man out of you, yet." She takes one look at the terror on your face, giggles evolving into laughter. "It was just a joke. Those nasty suits and ties won't come within a three feet radius." She rests her cheek against the curve of your shoulder, and you feel gentle puffs of breath every few seconds.
"Thank dust for that. My abs are born to be free."
"Dork." She mumbles, before her breath evens out. A tuft of white hair tickles your nose, and you shift your head to stare out the window. Silver moonbeams fall upon the brown duvet covering the bottom half of the bed, illuminating dust motes and throwing shadows across the room.
The steady heartbeat of the woman by your side grounds you, and with her face in your mind's eye, you join her in slumber.
Tomorrow is another day. You can't wait to spend it with her.
AN: Self-indulgent fluff for a rarepair.