Prom Date
(Prom no Koibito/プロムの恋人)
Summary: Really, it's her I wanted.
[Jaune/Pyrrha]
Jaune sighed, wistfully watching from the balcony as his snow angel, dressed in a breathtaking white evening gown that perfectly complimented her pale complexion and draped around her svelte frame, gently caressing her delicate curves, slowly spun with her prom date on the dance floor. Even from all the way out in the distance, the scrawny blonde – garbed in a pressed black rental suit his teammates picked for him – could see the warmth and joy that radiated off their entwined form; it was impossible not to catch the intimate way Weiss and Ruby held each other – the eyes they gave each other, brimming with silent, mutual tenderness and affection befitting of their youth.
He ran a hand through his slicked-back hair, ruining the well-crimped look Nora had spent hours on; his hair was typically unruly, mostly in part to his failure to brush every day, but the spunky teen had been adamant on making him look dapper that night.
He inwardly apologised for ruining all her efforts in one fell swoop, but thought not much else otherwise.
The twinge in his heart was nothing compared to the bitter taste of defeat lingering on his tongue; he was glad for his best friend, Ruby Rose. Truly, he was, that she could find happiness. And he knew that if not him, there was no one else more deserving of the Schnee heiress's affection – no one else who could treat her the way she deserved to be. After all, in the words of his very insightful friend Pyrrha Nikos, love was a partnership. And they made one of the best pairs Beacon Academy had ever seen. If he were to trust anyone else with Weiss, it would indubitably be Ruby Rose.
Yet, as he loosened his slim black tie and ripped the first two buttons of his white shirt apart to free his wildly bobbing Adam's apple, Jaune couldn't help but resent Ruby. For having the courage he couldn't muster.
The gala event had been announced months beforehand, to grant students the opportunity to perform all their preparations beforehand and avoid anyone complaining of not being given enough time. Instantly, Jaune's mind was filled with the thought of only one girl he wished to ask to the prom: Weiss Schnee. The girl he had been absolutely smitten with since his blue eyes spotted her with Ruby during their initiation briefing; the girl who made his heart sing songs he never knew.
Ever the cliché romantic, Jaune envisioned of a million and one ways to woo the frigid ice queen; to melt her proverbial wall. He wanted to sweep her off her feet – be the white knight who gallantly rode in on his steed and whisked away the princess towards their happily ever after, or the kindhearted, weary traveller who would stumble on a fallen angel and nurse her back to health, before lifting her to greater heights. He wanted to be everything and anything for Weiss – he desired to be her rock, her shield, her pillar.
But he couldn't express any of these aspirations over those few months. Anytime he was to approach Weiss, fate drew them apart; be it a professor calling either of them aside, or friends snatching them away, or just Jaune losing his nerve and scampering away like the yellow-bellied fool he was.
He would always regret it immediately after, fleeing before he could fully voice his intent. But Jaune never quite got past the all-encompassing fear that consumed his very being from the inside-out every time he came near the heiress.
By the time the gala was a mere week away, and he had finally gathered the resolve and materials to approach the cool – if sometimes temperamental – beauty and ask her to be his date, he discovered that it was all too late.
Hiding the bouquet of white roses behind his back, it took Jaune everything within himself to flash his friend a bright smile as she flashed up to him in a flurry of roses, raving to him about the advice he had given her a couple of days ago, to 'go get her'.
He should have probably asked who 'her' was, on hindsight; not that he thought it would have changed anything. In fact, Jaune believed that had he known the girl Ruby planned on pursuing was Weiss, he would have bowed out not-so-gracefully that very moment.
With a resigned sigh, despondent blue eyes trailed after the young blonde's queen and her knight. Preoccupied with his reverie, Jaune failed to detect the striking figure that approached him, despite their strong aura and deep orange evening gown, until a lithe finger tapped him gently on his shoulder.
Snapping out of his plaintive trance, Jaune whirled on his heel to come face-to-face with his date for the night. Her lips, painted a spectacular crimson red, quirked into a small, empathetic smile as she handed him a glass.
"Punch," Pyrrha told him as he sniffed the red liquid with knitted brows. "There's wine available, but I didn't think it appropriate, since we have an early spar session tomorrow."
Jaune's lips twitched upwards as he raised his glass in thanks, before taking a quick sip of the sweet drink.
As he moved to lean his back against the balcony railings, Pyrrha followed suit, observing him from her periphery; she noted the defeated slump in his shoulders, the glazed over eyes, the creased brows, the tie and buttons he had recently undone, the unkept hair, the fist that was awkwardly fumbling about in his pocket as he struggled to contain himself – to not run away and hide in their room, to avoid ruining everybody's night with his selfishness.
Only the faint sound of garbled voices and music resonating from the hall broke what would have been complete and utter still between them.
Pyrrha took a sip of her own beverage. "I'm sorry," she whispered with all the sympathy he didn't deserve.
She caught him wince from the corner of her viridescent eyes.
Jaune swallowed thickly and responded with a stiff shake of the head. "Please don't be," he replied with an equally soft tone.
Internally, the blonde berated himself for being such a lousy date. How dare he be so egotistical, to the point of not appreciation Pyrrha's efforts to help pull him out of his misery, when many of their peers would trade life and limb for the opportunity he had been handed on a silver platter.
'I must be the worst guy alive tonight,' he thought to himself, upset that he had unconsciously hurt somebody else – someone who had always been close to him – because of his inconsiderate behaviour.
Self-loathing built up in him as he glanced at her with remorseful blues, pleading for the forgiveness he knew she would always grant.
It was then he noticed how she hung her head with the most crestfallen expression he had ever seen her wear.
Jaune felt a knife run itself through his chest as he stared at her downtrodden face; someone as beautiful as she should never be so hurt, least of all when they've taken the effort to look as breathtaking as Pyrrha did that very night. It gutted him to think – to know – that it was his fault she felt this way.
Still, he was – as much as he hated to think it because it made him sound like a grade-A ass – happy that she had invited him along. That she would turn down all the other guys and choose to ask him to the prom. As if he were worth something. It filled him with a warm fuzzy something at the time, knowing that someone as amazing as Pyrrha Nikos would have the slightest of interest in him, though he never thought to give it a name.
Realising just how wonderful Pyrrha had been throughout the night – throughout the past few months – made Jaune's everything feel like lead. His mind was too foggy to construct a heartfelt speech of gratitude, and even if it were, his tongue was too stiff to say more than a "thank you" to his partner.
Nevertheless, it seemed as if she understood the meaning behind his words; immediately, tears she had been trying to dam off the entire night began to trickle down her cheeks.
The guilt Jaune felt only mounted, if that were even possible, upon making the Amazonian beauty cry. He began to panic, hastily perching his glass precariously on the railings so as to use both hands to search his person for tissues. The blonde was never good with tears, especially when he was the cause of them, and so his heart thrummed rapidly as he patted his suit jacket down, desperate to try and find some sort of absorbent material to dry his partner's eyes.
Finding none, Jaune frantically pulled of his tie and handed it to Pyrrha with wide eyes. "D-don't cry!"
When Pyrrha peeked over, she giggled. Jaune's suit was wrinkled, his collar was bent out of shape and his eyes were beady and large and riddled with nervous confusion, and yet he still held out his tie with all the innocence only Jaune could carry.
She took it from his grasp and gently wiped away her tears.
As she did so, Jaune looked into her eyes for the very first time that night. They were bloodshot as a result of her weeping, but they gazed at him with an emotion he couldn't quite describe with words; all he knew was that it filled him with a kind tenderness that evoked warmth and hope and everything he could ever imagine feeling from pair he had observed earlier that night.
He had always been a little slow, but Jaune never kicked himself as hard as he did until then.
Even so, he was determined to make amends.
"Hey," he started.
Pyrrha, who had glanced away to peer into the hall, looked at him in question. "Is there something the matter, Jaune?"
The blonde pursed his lips. "No," he said after a beat had passed. "I was just wondering..."
He saw her cant her head from the corner of his eye and sucked in a deep breath. If he concentrated hard enough, he could hear the muted slow number being carried by the wind.
Pyrrha's eyebrows furrowed as her blonde partner paused for thought. "Wondering?" she prompted.
Jaune exhaled steadily as he looked straight into her eyes. "I was just wondering..." Sheepishly scratching his jaw, as he always did out of nervous habit, the blonde gingerly held out a hand. "Wanna dance?
I came to realise so late
My true queen
Is my true partner, someone closer than she is
There was someone right here who's able to love me
Someone who wrapped me in kindness
Love is a partnership
You taught me that
Come, let's dance
– プロムの恋人/NMB48 (白組)
AN: The first pair that came to mind when I heard this song.
This is a new project, where I just listen to music and force myself to write things (mostly based off Japanese songs since that's what I've been listening to as of late). Sometimes, it'll be as if I were rambling on and on. Other times, they might actually come out quite well. Whatever the case, I'm hoping that this motivates me to continue writing whatever and whenever I feel like, since my larger projects don't have the same sort of mood. Practice, practice, practice. (Also I hope it encourages people to listen to these artists so I don't feel alone)
Most of these stories will be unbeta'd/unedited, so if there are any issues, feel free to point them out!