RWBY Files

Pallor

Weiss Schnee was not having a good time. Despite the elegance of the ball and the astounding maturity of her teammates, she was upset. The light music flowed across the dance floor but Weiss would have none of it. She slipped away from her teammates to allow them to enjoy their night while she moped about.

Come on Weiss, she scolded herself, You're not a little girl.

She sighed and glanced into a glass of apple cider. Her liquid golden reflection stared back with dour. She winced at her image and brought a free hand to her hair. Normal length brought it roughly to the square of her back but on the night of the annual Beacon Ball in which Weiss was staring to a glass of apple cider, it was so short it barely touched her mid of her shoulder blades.

As she shook her head, it felt wrong to have it move in multiple piece rather and one long side ponytail.

He said he liked girls with short hair. Good going, changing for a guy. Really showed him, didn't you? At least he's not here. Probably hooking up with some fool. What does that make me then? Passed up for a fool? A double fool.

Her mental tirade devolved into mental self abuse as she slowly dug a deeper and deeper pit. This wasn't like her and it certainly wasn't about the hair. He wasn't there, so it didn't matter anyway. At least that was she told herself focusing intently on her drink

"Excuse me."

Weiss was so startled, she nearly dropped her glass. The golden liquid contents sloshed but did not spill.

"What do you want?" Weiss snapped.

She looked up and began to redden. It wasn't one of her teammates. It was just some random guy, from her third class. The momentary feeling of embaressment was quickly replaced by suspicious irritation

"Sorry," he smiled sheepishly like an idiot, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she replied harshly. Her tone made it clear she didn't want him around. Her icy blue eyes tried to freeze him on the spot.

"Yeah, I don't think so," he shrugged as he warily sat at a table beside's Weiss'. His hair was a ruddy brown and his skin was a soft brown with a red tinge. His eyes were an odd shade of brown, almost orange.

Weiss gave him a harsh glare. Go away!

He inclined his head and towards Weiss and winced before offering a small smile. Weiss, strangely, couldn't increase her level of irritation. It panned at mild irritant before rationality flooded her. I'm acting like a little girl. Weiss Schnee held herself to many standards and dos and don'ts of being a lady applied to her tenfold. She saw it as weakness to be anything but proper. Disregard for social etiquette was not only improper but plain arrogance rather than ignorance. She'd go easy on him if he didn't persist.

"Please," she said calmly, "Go away." She took a sip of the apple cider.

"No, I think something's wrong," the guy sighed before frowning, "Are you sure you don't-"

"No," Weiss cut him off, "I'm quite alright. I'm just tired; tired of this party, tried ad this night, and, frankly, tired of your company."

She had turned up the ice meter and set it to full blast. She wouldn't have anything to do with anyone else that night. It was more embarrassment than pain that irked her and nothing good could come from emptying out personal issue with a stranger. Classmate, Weiss corrected. She'd give him the courtesy of that.

"I know you're torturing yourself," he was still frowning, "It's written all over your face. You think that you're hiding it but it's kinda obvious." His tactless, or rather, blunt manner threw Weiss off and she countered.

"Well, then I see no sense in guarding my tongue," Weiss said curtly, "Go jump off a cliff." Her words were punctuated with staccato emphasis of all three words like forceful jabs.

The guy dipped his head and showed the palms of his hands as if offering surrender. "As you wish," he gave one last sad smile, "If you need me, my name is Desmond by the way."

Weiss didn't respond and simply put her chin up. She felt her shortened hair brush her upper back.

"You're hair looks nice tonight," Desmond added rising and pushing in his chair with slow deliberation. "I hope your night gets better, sometimes you just got to give it time and thought." He gave her a theatrical bow and departed across the dance floor, disappearing into the crowd.

Weiss caught herself from throwing her glass angrily. What is wrong with me tonight? She put down the glass and folded her arms, the only arms she felt safe in. Stop it. You're acting impetuous and childlike. He shouldn't have pried, yes, but you know better. What's wrong with me…

One of her hands clenched into a fist. It wasn't fair. But she was going to live with it. The standards she held kept her from falling into second-best and first-loser. She wasn't going to lag behind and disappoint, not anymore.

But, she paused, is acting like a little girl always so bad? It's suites Ruby fine. But I'm not her. I don't have the luxury of… Excuses. I need to stop making excuses. I always want to emerge prim and unscathed and it doesn't work like that. Sometimes, there's no one to blame but myself.

She drained nearly empty glass, set it down, rose unsteadily to her feet and skirted along the edge of the room until she found an open corridor. She leaned against an empty wall. She crossed her arms once more and looked up at the vaulted ceiling to contemplate a little longer. She decided she'd head up to her dorm and call it a night. There was no use continuing the self torture. She had to move on, she had to just sleep or maybe jump off a cliff herself.

"Getting fresh air?"

Weiss wasn't as easily startled. She half expected him to show up again. He struck her as the type. The exact type she wasn't sure, but something along the lines of he didn't understand the word "Quit" and that he probably liked cinnamon.

"What do you want?"

Desmond stood a ways away. He had stopped a few feet away from Weiss. He regarded hr with soft eyes and an open ear. The situation felt too familiar for comfort but necessary.

"Just making sure you're really alright."

"I'm heading up to my room now," she sneered, "So my less-than-decent night can end. Is that alright with you? Do you want to walk to my room? Stand guard while I sleep? Read me a bedtime story. What do you want Desmond? Really? Because I'm certainly not in the mood for games!"

"No games?" Desmond smirked, "I can do that. I just want two things. I want to dance with you, once. And I just want to talk."

"You're getting neither," Weiss huffed and turned on her heel.

"It's not exactly wise to go to bed upset," Desmond chimed, following Weiss at a safe distance.

Weiss spun and glared Desmond down, water meeting earth. He walked casually up to her and tried to look as innocent as possible. Weiss was not amused. Desmond felt his stomach flip. He was playing a dangerous game of cat and mouse; except he wasn't sure who was the mouse.

"Go away," she hissed. They was only an inch difference between them but Weiss always found annoyance in looking up to others.

"One dance," he negotiated, "No talking. Just a dance?"

Again, Weiss found herself trying to dissect Desmond's personality. He wasn't in it for the dance. He persisted and wouldn't relent unless she broke down. He, however, didn't strike her as the malicious type like Cardin. Obnoxious, blunt, and pushy, but seasoned with good judgment. If she said no, they'd be at an impasse.

"One dance?" she fumed, "And you disappear and leave me alone?"

"Cross my heart," Desmond promised with the proper motion.

"Fine but out here. I'm not going back in there."

"Wouldn't force you if I could," he assured her as their hands meshed. He then coaxed her into a waltz.

Weiss felt awkward waltzing to no music. It felt robotic and disturbing, and strangely liberating. Desmond kept his hand at her shoulder and never at her side or waist. He never spoke but smiled whenever Weiss looked at him. His eyes kept glancing down at their feet, careful to not step on her. Weiss found his hands surprisingly warm. His palms were soft to the touch and light. They fell into the gentle rhythm and Weiss found herself humming a slow aria as they swayed. Humming was soon discarded for quietly singing the remainder. As she finished, Desmond slowly let her go.

"Thank you," Desmond said sheepishly. "Your voice is lovely, by the way."

Weiss found herself returning the smile. She couldn't suppress it because she remembered the aria she had been humming. It wasn't one she had been taught, rather it was one she learned herself. The one song she memorized by heart. Weiss believed she'd forgotten the aria long ago as it wasn't a in a language she used often.

The song itself was enough to put Weiss at ease. It gave her a self of worth that could not be easily taken away. It was very much against the classic arias of pain and passion. It was the first one she'd learned about love and it stuck with her in small ways. It affirmed self worth above all as the lyrics flowed back into her consciousness.

"Have a goodnight," Desmond chuckled seeing the smile on her face. He turned to walk back to the ball.

"Hold on," Weiss said suddenly. "After forcing me to dance, the least you could do is be a gentleman and walk to my room."

There was no underpinning in her words save a new air playfulness. Childlike playfulness. Internally, Weiss cringed. She wasn't Commander Tactful but her point got across as Desmond nodded and escorted her to her room. He offered her arm and she took it with a measured eagerness.

Not so bad after all. Not a bad night after all. Always work through it.