There was fire. So much fire.
She was in a box… No, Jaune was in a box- a locker. Why was he in the locker?
And then… the fire. The heat and the hum of her semblance.
A pain, unlike anything she'd ever felt. An arrow.
"Do you believe in destiny?"
She awoke with a start, bolting upright in bed. At least, it would have been upright; someone's arm was draped across her, so she got about a foot off the mattress. The arm's owner mumbled something incoherently to her left.
How he managed to ever fall asleep on his stomach, she didn't think she would ever know.
A bead of sweat rolled down her temple, somehow managing to be hotter than her skin, which felt cold and clammy.
It was worse tonight, a lot worse than it had probably ever been.
He stirred again, pulling her towards him as his blonde hair sprawled along the pillow. He really needed it cut.
Everything was fine. She was home, she was safe, she was loved, she was whole.
Fingers curled around her side, pulling her down towards warm comfortable softness, but she wouldn't go yet; she needed to just… sit up for a while.
Apparently, her resistance to the Tyrannical Rule of Cuddles had not gone unnoticed, for its master opened his eyes, one hand moving to rub the sleep away, sluggishly. He sat up, adjusting a pillow against the head board and sitting against it, one hand remaining at her side.
"The dream again?"
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
"Must have been real bad to affect you like this." Another nod.
A quiet silence descended on them, but it wasn't awkward. She loved this about him; that he could stay contentedly quiet where the fans, the reporters, even her friends almost never could. But him? His silence said I care about you. I love you, but I don't need to babble on for you to know it.
She relented, at last, letting gravity and her bedmate have their way as she sank down against him, molding herself to him. His arm circled her, holding her close without constricting, and he kissed her head, the breath through his nose tickling her hair.
Apparently, something more than silence was needed.
"I love you." A heavy pause. She knew that he knew that she wasn't hesitating because she doubted that she felt the same. Still, they had agreed to be totally honest with each other. Every time they said those words, they had to mean them. And so, she was checking. Love? Still there.
"I know. I love you, too."
She craned her neck up and kissed his chin, crinkling her nose at the stubble there. How did it always grow so fast?
They sat there for a long time, or no time at all, depending on how you wanted to see it. And then…
"Dad!"
He chuckled. "Guess I was gonna wake up anyway." A smile and another kiss before he climbed out of bed, heading to the door.
"Why are the women in my life so insistent on me losing sleep?" He smiled back at her, and winked to show his good humor. She could see it in his eyes: he loved them both to the moon and back, and there was nothing he wouldn't do for them. He just felt like teasing every now and then.
After he left, she settled back onto the bed, readjusting the pillows so she could lie down instead of resting against the headboard. She felt tired again already.
The warmth in her chest and in her bed lulled her back to sleep, and her breaths were humming in her chest long before he got back.
r/RWBY March 2016 MonCon: Pyrrha and Happy Endings
Sure, I have a lot less experience writing Pyrrha than, say, Jef, and granted: this story is short as hell. But it's kinda meant to be. This is what popped into my head when I saw the theme, so I went with it. I've been trying to get better at not forcing himself to write, instead writing what comes to me, which feels a lot more natural. This took, like, 20 minutes, which is awesome. I don't think there were even any pauses in typing.
No names are used, which was, again, intentional. I kept thinking about GEP's story 'Weiss Drops the Milk' where they approached things obliquely. I had to read that story twice just to figure out what was going on.