I get lost in thought, pondering over everything he just told me about: from how he asked Pietro to remove his sensors, to that Grimm herd that father warned him about seven years ago, and to how Winter, despite being on the verge of exhaustion, managed to save not only her teammates' lives, but James', too.
Winter.
She's everything I have always wanted to be; the one I've looked up to since I was able to hold Myrtenaster with only one hand. When I was little and still wasn't allowed to train with my rapier, I would stick my nose to my bedroom's window and spend my empty hours just looking at her training outside, in the back yard. The day she packed all her things and left the Schnee manor to train at Atlas Academy was the saddest of my short life – I cried for five nights in a row. Everything my sister has ever done has inspired me in ways I can't even explain. Unknowingly, Winter gave me the strength to defy everything that had been imposed on me since I was child; it is to her that I owe the person I am today, and for that I am incredibly grateful. However, being the middle child means that, despite Winter being my role model, I've always felt like no matter what I do, I will always be one step behind her.
The way James talks about her makes me feel moved, but for some reason, there's something more – a tiny, little pinch of envy, too. Why do I…?
"Weiss."
When his voice drags me back from my thoughts, I realize that the remaining tea in the cup I'm holding is now cold.
"Sorry, James." I say, putting my cup away with a sigh. "What were you saying?"
"Are you okay?" He asks, leaving my question aside and looking at me with his deep blue eyes. He looks concerned. "Maybe my story was too boring for you. I apolo-"
"It wasn't." I strongly declare. "I was just… - I was lost in thought, that's all."
"Alright." James concedes, resigned. He doesn't seem convinced by what I said, but he doesn't ask any more questions regarding the matter. "I was saying that the coffee spilled over my tie, too. Look." He says, pointing at the small, darker blue coffee stains that splatter his tie. "Maybe we could go buy a new one when we're done here, if you'd like to come with me. I have been wanting to make a visit to the tailor shop for a couple of months, but I haven't found the time. Now that I'm taking some weeks off, however…"
"I will go, but only if you let me pick it for you." I say, teasingly. "You can trust me – you know I have fine taste."
"As you wish." He smiles, and his eyes shine for a brief second. "I will add it to my tie collection."
"Your what?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.
"My tie collection." James responds. "What?" He laughs softly when he sees the face I'm making.
"Nothing." I smile back at him. Of all the things that could be collected, James chooses… ties. Thinking it twice, however, it kind of suits him.
"It's not a very common hobby, I must admit. But I like their colors." He says.
The sight of him just caressing his tie and carefully examining the small coffee stains as if they were the worst thing to ever happen to him softens my heart. I've always known that he wasn't the big, bad General everybody thought he was, but he is so nice for an army high-up that I can't help but wonder how someone with such a kind heart made it to the top in the first place – now that I live here, every day he surprises me with a brief glance, a subtle gesture or a tint in his voice that makes me realize that he is, at his very core, even softer than I imagined. I don't doubt his ability as leader of the military and headmaster of the Academy, but since Winter is the only army member I know besides him and she's so cold and distant to others, I've always thought that you should be like just like that in order to succeed. However, James proves me wrong every time he looks at me and smiles, and it somehow gives me hope.
The tailor shop is only five minutes away from Nix, the store where I bought my new battledresses and my starry cape. Lately, I wear it most of the day – it's warm, soft, and beautiful, and it has become one of my favorite clothes ever.
A little bell chimes above us when James opens the door. I close it behind my back, and I take off my black silk gloves and put them in my pocket. Althought it's not as cold today as it was when we visited Mister Polendina's lab, I still appreciate the warmth inside the tailor shop.
The main, short aisle with wooden floor and a patterned red carpet leads directly to the counter, on whose sides two green lamps of warm light rest. Behind the counter, there's a bald man with a bushy moustache – I suppose he's the tailor. Flanking the main aisle and perpendicular to it, there are wooden shelves crowded with uniform jackets, suits, hats and gloves of all shapes and colors.
"Good morning, General Ironwood."
"Good morning, Mister Hima. It's been a while."
"Indeed." The man admits. "Around six months, if I recall correctly. Oh, Miss Schnee." He says, raising both his eyebrows in surprise once he notices my presence. "I hadn't seen you behind the General's back. Good morning."
"Good morning." I respond.
"What brings you here today, General?" He asks, turning his attention back to James. "I doubt it is a new uniform order, since your second in charge was here for the exact same reason a couple of days ago."
"Oh, Schnee was here?" James asks with interest. I can't see his face from behind him, but in these past weeks I've slowly become aware of what every tint of his voice means - when he makes this one, he's usually smiling. And there it is, once again: the little, subtle pinch of envy in my chest.
"She was." The man responds. "I thought you sent her."
"I didn't. I'm currently taking some weeks off due to… medical reasons."
"I understand. I suppose the Battle of Beacon has taken its toll on all of us." He says, with a fake affected tone of voice.
I frown. I wonder how on Remnant could the Battle of Beacon have affected an Atlas' tailor shop that provides the army in any way that wasn't positive.
"Indeed." James admits. "Do you know the reason behind her visit?"
"Well… She's sparse in words, but she did mention that the military needed at least half a thousand new uniforms precisely because of the battle."
As I was saying.
"Oh. It makes sense." James responds.
"So, if it's not the uniforms, then… I suppose it's the usual, am I right? A tie."
"A tie." They say in unison. James laughs and nods, and the tailor smiles. "Yes, I would like a new one."
"Perfect. Would you like me to escort you?"
Right in that moment, the bell chimes again, and I turn around. A woman dressed in a long fur coat and a gigantic pink cartwheel hat closes the door behind her.
"Thank you, Mister Hima, but there's no need to. I know the way." He says. "Good morning, Miss." He slightly bows towards her, and then turns his attention back to me. "Over here, Weiss."
I follow him through one of the perpendicular aisles, which seems a bit narrower than I expected. In its first half, the shelves that flank the aisle are crowded with cute bowties of all imaginable colors, but as we walk further down into the aisle, we finally make it to the necktie zone.
"Here we are." James says, pointing at the ties with a wave of his arm.
"Good." I respond, taking a quick look to one of the shelves, where I can already spot some interesting colors and patterns. Oh, that wine red is nice. "Now leave." I demand, making a gesture with my hand.
"Oh? But why?" He asks.
"You said you would let me pick a tie for you, but you aren't allowed to see it until I have decided which one I choose."
He looks at me for a few seconds, as if he was trying to figure out my intentions – a little, subtle wrinkle appears between his eyebrows. "Alright." He finally concedes with a resigned smile. "But I have to ask: am I obliged to wear it even if it doesn't suit me?"
"It will suit you." I assure, pouting, and I cross my arms. "And now, if you would please go away, General." I say jokingly.
He raises an eyebrow.
"As you wish." His cheekbones rise a bit – I can tell he's holding back a smile. He slightly shakes his head before adding: "There's a small room right where the aisle ends. If you need something from me, please say so, Miss Schnee."
And he turns around to leave. I just look at him until he disappears from my sight – when he does, I allow myself to smile softly.
He usually doesn't respond to my teasing – I don't know if it's because he's oblivious to it or he deliberately chooses to ignore it, but I think it's probably the former – but he has, this time, and my cheeks are warm.
I spend the next fifteen minutes examining dozens of ties, with the muffled conversation between the woman with the big hat and the tailor in the background. When I pick a tie, I ask myself if its color would make James' eyes stand out; then, I scrutinize every stitch of its pattern, and I decide if I like it or not. If I don't, I return it to the shelf – if I do, I hang it on my arm. It's nice that I don't have to worry about whether the color will match his clothes or not – he wears his uniform most of the time, and white goes with everything. Even though there are three ties I have picked - one is steel gray, but has a deep blue undertone that is just too beautiful to ignore; the second one is dark violet, with a white and lighter purple abstract pattern embellishing it; and the last one is just the plain wine red one I initially saw – none of them convinces me completely. However, after I finally rise my sight to the highest row of ties, the ones I'm holding hit the floor when I let my arms fall to my sides in surprise.
"What a happy coincidence." I murmur with a smile.
It has to be that one.
I bend down to pick the fallen ties and return them to their shelves; then, I stand on tiptoe, trying to reach the one I've chosen from the top shelf – I only manage to touch it with my fingertips, but I can't grab it. I look around, searching for a little bench to step on, but I don't see any. I click my tongue, annoyed.
"James?" I ask to the empty aisle, and I wait a few seconds. There's no response. "General Ironwood?" I try again, raising an eyebrow. I snort at the sight of his silhouette at the end of the aisle.
"Did you call me, Miss Schnee?"
I hold back a smile, trying to remain serious when he approaches me.
"I did. I would need your help, if you don't mind."
"Of course. I'm at your service." He says, finally making it to my side. "What is it that you need?"
"I…" I clear my throat. We haven't been addressing each other formally for a while, so it sounds sort of funny doing it now; however, it makes me blush, too. "I need a tie from the highest row. No – no, don't look!" I exclaim when he turns towards the shelf, and I grab his arm so he won't see it.
"What should I do, then?" He asks.
"Just… Just get me up." I say.
He seems a little hesitant, and I blush when I realize what I have just asked him to do. Before I can suggest anything else, he responds with hushed voice:
"Alright."
The other option was for him to bend down while I stood on his back, so, thinking it twice, I suppose it's better this way. However, when his hands grab me gently by my waist my heart skips a beat, and I make a muffled surprise sound.
Okay. Maybe it wasn't better this way.
He carefully lifts me up until the tie I chose is at my eye level. I can feel his arms trembling, but I highly doubt it's because of my weight. We aren't used to touching each other - just a little, brief brush of hands here and there, or a subtle caress on the shoulder when one of us is distracted. This, however, breaks all the unspoken, invisible barriers between us; ignoring that my chest is about to explode, I find myself surprised by the fact that it doesn't bother me even a little.
"I'm done. You can put me down." I say when I grab the tie.
My feet touch the floor, and James lets me go. I hurry to hide the tie behind my back before he can see it.
"Is there a mirror in the room you were in?" I ask.
"It is. A full-length one."
"Perfect. Lead the way."
It's almost inhuman how cold my waist feels now that his fingertips no longer wrap it - it is only now that I realized how absurdly gentle his hands can be on me that I dare to admit I wish I could feel their touch more often.
We enter a circular room, not very spacious. There's a velvet seat at its center, a huge mirror in a corner - a little big for a fitting room, so although there are no clothes in it, I understand why he mistook it for just another room. However, it is, indeed, a fitting room – it even has a little red velvet curtain at the entrance, which I slide behind my back.
"Sit there, please." I ask, pointing at the velvet seat with my chin, and I add: "And close your eyes."
Without a word, he does as I say. I approach him carefully – my hands, still hidden behind my back and gently holding the tie. Now that he can't see me, I take a few seconds just to delight in looking at him: his strong, big hands, always covered by gloves hiding a shame that shouldn't be; his subtle frown, unaware of my intentions; his soft, trembling lips, on which my eyes linger, almost hypnotized – for a second, I wonder… could I make them stop if I press them against mine?
And…
Would he return the favor?
"Is something wrong?" James asks – his voice surprises me and makes me finally look away from his lips.
"No." I hurry to respond, and I clear my throat. "No, sorry. Stay still, okay?"
I silently thank that his eyes are still closed so he can't see the slight shaking of my hands when I pass the tie behind his neck – if he feels it, though, he doesn't say anything about it. I take a bit more time than needed in knotting the tie, just for the guilty pleasure of feeling his body close to mine –
and because of my trembling hands, evidently.
"It's done." I murmur, looking at the result. The knot could be better, but it's not terrible. "Don't open your eyes yet."
When he stands up, I place a hand on his back and I carefully guide him until he is in front of the mirror.
"Okay. You can open them now."
It's cute how, even as soft as his expression always is, it becomes even softer at the sight of the tie I chose. It was such a coincidence, I must say, that the very same fabric my starry cape is made of was also used to make a tie, and that it was waiting on the highest shelf to be picked by me. What I find most special is that it's not really the beautiful navy blue what matches James' irises, but the stars - the same stars that shine in his eyes every time he looks at me.
"Do you like it?" I ask with contained emotion. "Now we match."
He caresses it so gently that it seems he's afraid of tearing it apart.
"It's beautiful, Weiss." He says with trembling voice; then, he looks away from the mirror until his eyes land on me, and he leans forward. The next thing I know is that he…
He is hugging me.
I hugged him once, too, back at Mister Polendina's lab, but this time, it feels different, because he is the one who took the lead. He holds me tightly against his chest, where I can hear how fast and loud his heartbeat is – or is it mine? His chin rests over my head, and he softly presses his right hand against my back. I can feel my cheeks burning, but I hide it in his tender embrace, softer than I would have ever dreamed of. I close my eyes and delight in this moment, and I swear to the Gods above that I will never forget it, for this is the closest James and I will ever be, even though they surely know I long for more. I'm convinced that, from now on, the ghost of his warm touch will haunt me forever like a freezing breeze that could only be stopped if he hugged me once more.
But he doesn't. He lets go, and whispers:
"Thank you."
I can't really speak right now, so I just nod and shyly smile back.
Gods.
I'm already cold.