Coming Clean – A Freezerburn Fan Fiction - Chapter 1:
It was hot on Patch during the summer months. The woman curled in bed found them almost stifling. The mornings were humid and clammy, the afternoons dry and sunny. Rain came by frequently enough too, but that just made the air thick enough to eat. It was nothing like the snowy weather found in Atlas, where the chill nipped at her bones on a good day. It wasn't even like the dry heat found in the desert of Vacuo, which if Weiss were honest, she absolutely hated. Dry heat and humid heat both shared the same inherent issue.
It was just too damn hot for anyone who grew up in the north.
Weiss yawned as she woke up, laying around in bed for a few spare moments. Unsurprisingly, she found the sheets sticking to her skin unpleasantly. She practically peeled them from her body as she sat up, finding the other side of her bed empty.
Her palm reach out to the space beside her. She pressed against the sheets. The other side of the bed was cooler and dryer than it should feel, given the tepid morning temperature and who normally inhabited that side of the bed. Weiss knew she shouldn't have expected it to be any different. Yang was an early riser. It was almost an unspoken routine for her to be so restless.
Sadly, logic was not a balm for bitterness, and questions unanswered were poisonous things. Flinging herself from the confines of the bed, she headed to the bathroom. It was possible that Yang might have doused herself in a cool bath. Far from likely, but, possible all the same.
"Or not…" Weiss thought to herself. The bath was bone dry. It hadn't even been used, which was strange in and of itself. Yang forwent her morning shower entirely it seemed.
Deciding not to think too deeply on the matter, Weiss turned on the cool water for the shower and disrobed, stepping into the spray. Her home was on the outskirts of the island. Her own little piece of paradise that she used as a vacation spot. When she wasn't on a hunting mission, dealing with extremists, or bickering in family related squabbles, she came here for rest and relaxation. A little peace and quiet was good for the soul, and she silently liked the fact that it was so close to Yang and Ruby's childhood home, and that it also wasn't very far from Vale.
Her heart ached a little at the thought of her friends. Ruby was gone away on an extended mission, and Yang had a tendency to come as go as she saw fit. Weiss wasn't quite sure where Yang had ventured off to this time, but it was the fact that Yang had ventured off at all that cackled like a malicious omen. Weiss had her demons, her misgivings as obvious to her as the accomplishments that she prided herself on. Being alone was a fear she had known since childhood.
It was no less terrifying as an adult.
The fear haunted her in the idle time. Whispering to her that one day, she would be left abandoned. Alone. With too many things left unfinished, and an unsatisfactory conclusion to the little things that she wished went on forever. With concern at the forefront of her mind, she finished washing her hair and dragged herself out of the cool water, toweling herself off. The house always seemed so lonely without Yang around.
Inherently, there wasn't anything wrong with being lonely. It was a good way to reflect. To renew her thankfulness in the ruckus her friends provided. It made the heart grow fonder too, or so she had been told. Although, she wasn't entirely convinced of that, because science argued otherwise.
"That troublesome pyromaniac. Just where on Remnant did she get to?" Weiss asked herself as she stared in the mirror, her image glaring daggers back. Obviously it wouldn't answer her. She picked up her discarded nightgown and her underwear tossing them into the hamper. Then she stripped the sweat soaked sheets, dumping them in as well. She grabbed a new set from the supply closet, dressing the bed and flopping down upon them.
Eyes closed, if she focused, she could smell the sports deodorant that lingered faintly in the room.
Yang applied it so liberally in the summer months. Failing to do so made her reek. Her Semblance was to blame for that. The woman was a walking furnace. So much so that even on the coldest night in Atlas, she had still walked around nonchalantly as Weiss shivered from the chill. As Weiss recalled that memory, it carved a stab of pain in her chest. Yang's kindness on that night was merely that. A kindness. Sharing her warmth came so naturally to her. She would have put her arm around anyone, Weiss wasn't a special case.
Weiss cursed at that. Forcing down the jealousy threatening to consume her. More annoyed than she wanted to admit, she put on a fresh set of underwear and tugged her powder blue silk robe off from the hanger. It was as dressed as she was going to get.
Stepping out into the open area of her house, she half expected to see Yang's gear strewn across her kitchen counter. It wouldn't be the first time a yellow helmet sat in the middle of her kitchen counter, or that a leather vest draped itself across one of the stools. Yang's keys made an appearance most of the time, often in the way of the coffee pot. Such messes were so iconic for Yang that Weiss had come to expect them. In most cases, she even welcomed them as part of Yang's carefree demeanor.
However, today, like most days, the kitchen was pristine. Exactly as she had left it the day before. A single mug sitting in the sink from the tea she drank before bed. Not a thing had disturbed the peaceful serenity of her home, and there was no sign of life. Another pang of jealousy pounded into her. A niggling thought that Yang was visiting someone else.
A very particular someone else, with an equal predilection towards keepings Yang to herself, and had an apartment in Vale.
Although she would never admit it to anyone, Weiss Schnee prepared her morning coffee much more violently than she normally did, vexed as she was about the whole situation.
She tried not to feel so jealous, so angry, for no good reason. Weiss had done her best to lock her feelings away, to crumple them up and toss them aside like worthless scraps of paper. She wanted to keep Yang all to herself, to tell the woman the truth. Weiss failed to do that at all, even though she was sure that Yang knew. In fact, Yang had to know by now, and that made everything so much worse.
Weiss wasn't sure when it started precisely, and for the countless time, she sat there, hopelessly trying to figure it out. Her lonely day edged into a lonely afternoon.
An entire pot of coffee later, she switched to wine. Unfortunately, a wine glass in hand did nothing to help her. It was a terrible habit, surely, but as she brought the red liquid to her lips, she couldn't rightly care. Instead, she lamented her aching soul, nursing it with what little staying power the wine provided. It was only a slight fortification against the harsh torrent going on in her mind. She thought about Yang, how her feelings for the woman had somehow blossomed without either one of them noticing when exactly it happened.
Or, maybe, it was just that Yang simply didn't care how many hearts she stole away in her life.
It was a thought made in bitterness, sure, but something that lay as a dormant possibility. Weiss traced the fading lines of memory for what they were, days gone by with no real rhyme or reason. That night she ate dinner alone, sitting in the same listless position she had all day. She had only gotten up a few time through the day. A few to use the powder room, a few to refill her glass, thrice to get something to snack on, and once to get the mail.
So, why was she so exhausted?
For this, she had only one answer. Time and routine were tiring things.
"Yang Xiao Long, why do you insisted on being so bloody complicated? Why do you push yourself to please such worthless people in your life? We greedy souls, who do nothing to deserve you in the slightest? We, who demand that you pick and choose, because we are not willing to share. Oh, who am I kidding? Frankly, we cannot share. It would be foolish to share. To do that undermines the sort of person that I am, and I'm sure, Blake feels the same. My heart is one thing I cannot compromise, selfish though as that may be."
Just like the thoughts that kept washing over her, the wine washed over her tongue. Empty glass glimmering with a single drop that slid back down to the center, Weiss watched it. Fixated on it. As though the little drop of red was akin to a drop of blood. She tucked her chin in the palm of her free hand, spinning the glass gently in her other. She continued to watch the drop as it pooled at the bottom of the glass. As if, viewing the droplet from all sides might leave a mirror to something unseen.
"In an idealized world, love would not be an ugly thing. It would simply be a gift. People would love freely, love openly, and the confines of what is socially acceptable would all fall away. Yet, this is not an idealized world, and love is not always fair. There is no correct answer, but hearts are selfish things, and eventually Yang will have to choose. Sharing a lover is not fair, it is not ideal, and in too many ways it lacks the fulfilment of a stable, monogamous relationship. Those are the conclusions that I have come to. However, if I state that out loud, I would force Yang to pick one of us."
In a rather unladylike manner, she tipped her glass back, catching that final drop on her tongue. There was no dignity in the act, but that was the ultimate crux of the issue at hand.
"There's no victory in this. In the end, someone will get hurt, and while I don't wish any pain upon Blake, I certainly don't want Yang to reject me, either. Yet, if this continues, we're all going to fray at the seams. We're selfish people, all of us."
This circular way of thinking, the same dusty routines had gone on for months. Prior to that, they had tiptoed around each other for years. A strange friendship that bordered on something indisputably absurd by nature. Then again, the other woman involved in all of this was Yang. It would have been an insult to consider her friendship as anything other than completely asinine.
"Yang, I wish I could understand. Why spend your nights here, and then wander off in the morning? Why go to her? Why come back? Why force yourself to feel something that you simply aren't able to? What are you so afraid of, Yang? Why can't you just be honest with us? You have to choose, Yang, you have to. For Blake's sake, for mine, even for yours. This can't keep up. It won't hold, not like this. Don't you realize I won't leave you, no matter your choice? I won't abandon you. Why can't you understand that? Why tremble at the idea of being left alone, when we're all afraid of the same thing? Where's the sense in that?"
The terrible thoughts came to a screeching halt as the door clicked open, closing with a much louder slam a moment later. The slapping of keys hitting the counter, and the pull of a zipper effectively silenced the war knocking around deep within the confines of her mind. Yang was back for another night. At that exact moment, after a day of total isolation, that was all that mattered.