My uniform jacket and shirt, both ripped and stained with blood, lay on the floor of the upper room's attached infirmary. It's not the main dispensary, but it's useful when the students hurt themselves in a training session. Weiss managed to cut me in more places than I had counted, and it takes a while until I clean every wound in my arm with warm water and carefully disinfect it. I slightly frown - they don't hurt that much, but they sting a bit.

"Your back is bleeding."

Weiss' muffled voice interrupts me while I'm searching the drawers next to the gurney I'm sitting on. I turn around, only to see her leaning against the door frame.

"Oh. Hello, Weiss." I say, smiling softly. "I'll be done in a moment – I just need to find some band-aids. Please, tell Winter to wait five minutes more, and that I'm sorry for the wait."

"Your back is bleeding, James." She repeats. Weiss stays under the doorway, hesitant, but she finally steps into the infirmary and approaches me slowly, dubitative.

"I know – I can't reach my wounds there, but I'll clean them later when I take a shower." I say, returning my attention to the drawers and opening one of them – not a band-aid on sight, so I close it right after. Where did they put them?

"I can do it."

"Hm?" I ask, turning around. Weiss looks at me with gleaming eyes for a second, but then she lowers her sight again. I can still notice her subtle blushing.

"Disinfect the wounds on your back." She says. "I can do it, if you want to."

My heart skips a beat at her offer.

I…

Please, do it.

"Thank you, Weiss, but there's no need to." My words manage to come across the lump on my throat. "Winter's waiting downstairs, and I don't want to make her waste more time."

"Winter's gone." She says.

"What?" I ask, frowning. "Why?"

"Training summons after a battle isn't highly recommended, James." She softly laughs, still staring at the floor. "I'm almost out of Aura, and I think she wants me rested so I can give it my best. It's fair. She said she'll come back tomorrow."

Of course. How could it not be my fault – how could anything not be my fault? My burning chest as we were dancing through the battle completely blinded my senses, and I have no excuse. I sigh, and rub my eyes with my fingertips.

"I'm sorry." I say, shaking my head. "I didn't even think about it. I should have stopped when I kicked you down the stairs."

"It's okay, James: I asked you to not hold back. It had been a long time since I last trained with someone, and I had fun. Besides, if you had decided to stop the battle, how else could I have won?" She smiles, raising her sight and looking at me again – when she does, I notice a small, subtle cut on her lip.

"Oh. Did you think you won?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, I wasn't the one to throw my weapon to the floor." She shrughs.

"… Fair enough." I concede, laughing softly.

We both hold each other's gaze for a while, until Weiss speaks again.

"Well, James, will you let me clean your wounds, or what?" She asks.

I can feel the lump on my throat tighten again. I have a subtle idea of what it is that I'm feeling – that I feel every time she looks at me with crystal eyes; every time she gifts me a distracted smile; every time she speaks my name with hushed voice. I don't want to name it because it would be finally accepting it, even though I've been trying to ignore it for some time now. However, since her voice awakened my frozen heart, it seems to have taken away the best of me – was it the best, though, keeping it under such a thick steeled cover that I have more than once asked myself if it, in my deepest core, had turned into stone, too? Did Weiss take away the best of me,

or did she give it back?

"Alright." I murmur, suddenly becoming aware of how loud and fast my heart beats in this very moment.

Weiss slightly nods with a smile and leaves my side. I can hear her opening and closing drawers, but I can't see her from here. When she returns, she does it with a clean, moistened towel and a small paperboard box in her hand.

"I found the band-aids you were looking for, too." She says, shaking the little box and leaving it on the gurney.

"Perfect. Thank you, Weiss."

She places herself behind my back to examine my wounds, and I shudder when I feel the moistened towel against my blooded skin. It's not the soft, stinging sensation of my open wounds being cleaned what makes me shiver – it's the thought that her hand could slip and her bare fingers could briefly touch my skin at any moment. My hands are shaking a little, too, but Weiss can't see it from where she's standing.

"Does it hurt?"

"Not at all."

"I didn't know I injured you this much." She says with hushed voice.

"Me neither." I respond, smiling softly. "I think you're faster than you believe. You showed really impressive fighting techniques, Weiss; even though I saw you fighting at the Battle of Beacon, I didn't know you had such an advanced glyph mastery. It was really impressive."

"Oh. Thank you, James."

The sight of Weiss gently holding the pointy tip of her rapier against my throat crosses my mind. The threat of the cold metal against my skin; her heavy breathing and messy hair, consequences of the heat of battle; her eyes, gleaming with icy fire, fiercely piercing through mine and rendering me unarmed, both figuratively and literally. She was right when she said she won, because the truth is that even before the fight started, I didn't have any other choice but to surrender. She was radiant and beautiful; she could have plunged the blade through my flesh and I would have thanked her for allowing herself to be the last thing my eyes saw.

"I'm almost done." She says, putting the towel away and picking the small box. "Now, let me…"

There it is – the subtle brush of her fingertips right when she places a band-aid over one of the cuts on my back. I get goosebumps on the back of my neck, and I have to bite my lower lip to hold back a sigh. It's the second time I can feel her touch on my skin – the first one was in Pietro's laboratory, when she gently placed her hand over my prosthetic shoulder and I placed my human one over hers – it was brief and tender, and my metal and skin have craved to feel it again ever since. Soon there is a third one, and a fourth, and a fifth – every time she puts a band-aid on, my heart beats even faster. When she has finished with the wounds on my back, she goes around the gurney to stand in front of me, and starts doing the same with the ones on my arm.

I can finally see her – her sweet, distracted smile, as she carefully covers every single wound with yet another band-aid. It is now, looking at her, that I notice that her little cut on her lower lip has started bleeding – my eyes get stuck on the tiny, small garnet droplet that threatens to fall and crash to the ground. I know I shouldn't be doing this – whatever it is that I am doing – , but a force more powerful than myself makes me raise my left arm and place my fingertips on her chin. It still trembles – so does Weiss when my thumb gently brushes the blood away from her lips.

"James…?" She mutters – her voice is a whisper about to break.

"I…"

But mine is already shattered in pieces.

What if I do it? What if I leave behind everything I've ever been and let myself surrender to my feelings once and for all? Would it be so bad? Would it be so wrong? Would I be to blame for this, too? What am I, but a broken man with the weight of the world over my shoulders? What if I kiss her? Would it ease some weight, or would it make the burden heavier?

"Weiss…"

I can't. I can't force her to ease my burden by making her share its weight, too.

"I'm sorry." I say, shaking my head. When my fingertips abandon his chin, it strikes me as the most painful thing I've ever done. I clear my throat before asking: "Are you done?"

The disconcerted look on her face hurts my chest.

"I… I am."

"Alright. Thank you, Weiss." I lean forward to pick my ripped and bloodstained uniform shirt from the floor, but when I get up again, I don't dare look at her. "I'll go put some clean clothes on. Would you wait for me at the cafeteria to have dinner?"

"… Okay?" She responds.

"Perfect. It won't take long."

I cross the Schnee Manor's hall simulation without looking back – my pouncing heart, echoing in my chest as loud as my quick steps do in the hallways, finally cools down a little once I close my bedroom's door behind my back and let myself slip to the floor.

"I'm sorry I made you wait. Are you hungry?"

I had to throw the other uniform away, but I'm finally back at the cafeteria with a clean one and my starry tie luckily still in one piece. After washing my face with cold water, I have finally managed to recompose myself a little – enough, at least, to be able to look into Weiss' eyes without the lump in my throat drowning my words away.

Or so I thought.

"Are you okay, James?" She answers my question with a new one – her eyes, looking at me with concern. That's all it takes – a caring gaze and my name on her lips – for her to tear all my newly built barriers to pieces. Maybe they weren't strong enough – the most likely option, however, is that no matter how thick I reconstruct my iron walls they will break again, and again, and again, for she has the power to crush them with a single caress.

"Of course." I say, forcing a gentle smile. "Why do you ask?"

It's a rhetorical question, evidently –

"…No reason."

– so if she doesn't mention what happened in the infirmary, so I won't.

In the silence that falls upon us, I can hear the deafening noise of my heartbeat in my ears – I slightly open my mouth to say something, but words won't come, so I close it again and sigh deeply. Instead of just standing there I head to the kitchen; when I come out again, I do it with our dinner.

"I'll apologize to Winter tomorrow, when she comes back." I say in an attempt to break the silence. Weiss looks taciturn – she doesn't even raise her eyes when I place her plate next to her. "I was going to give her a call tonight, but I think she will be busy. I'd rather not disturb her."

"James…" She murmurs with downcast eyes.

"Hm?"

I silently beg for one and only thing:

Please don't ask about what happened before.

"How do you feel about Winter?"

The question puzzles me a little, but I hold back a sigh, relieved. I don't know if I could come up with an answer good enough to excuse my actions at the infirmary.

"How do I feel about Winter?" I repeat, leaning my head to a side a little. With the fork, I gently spread the mashed potatoes over the plate to help them cool down a little. "She's the most capable person I know - well, she's my right hand for a reason." I say. "Even before she entered the military, she has always proven herself to be an incredible fighter with a steel temper – I already told you how she managed to save not only her teammates' lives, but mine. Not many times I have seen her fully lose his nerves – her peculiar cutting tone of voice is more than enough to always make herself hear – however, when she does lose her temper… you better not be in her way." I shake my head and smile a little; then, I take a bite of the mashed potatoes – still hot, but they don't burn my tongue. "I have a deep admiration for her. We've always worked well together, but I owe her a lot for how she's been handing it all on her own lately. I… I really don't know what I'd do without her."

"That's… not what I meant."

"Hm? Then what do you…?" Her soft, resigned smile as she raises her sight from the plate makes me finally understand what she was really asking – the realization catches me off guard, and I raise an eyebrow. "Oh."

I snort a soft laugh, amused.

"Is there any reason behind your sudden interest?"

"No… Yes… I mean… Your eyes light up every time you speak about her or talk to her. So, I was wondering…"

"You aren't the first one to wonder the nature of Winter and I's relationship." I say, shaking my head. "It's true that we have known each other for a long time, and we've spent a lot of time together. Every year we've passed working side by side has only made me cherish her company more and more. Her support through all these years is something I'll always be thankful for, and I hope to make up for it someday." I make a brief pause to take another bite. Now that the mashed potatoes are lukewarm I realize that they're a bit bland, but Weiss doesn't really like a lot of salt in her food, so I always make sure that I don't add way too much. "You know… she's not the best at opening up" I laugh softly, "But she's had the patience to listen to my rant more than once, in private. Keeping the composure can be draining sometimes, especially in an environment as difficult as the military, and she has never complained, not even once." I sigh with a smile. "I trust Winter with my life – and I say this not only as her superior, but as her friend.

» But friends is all we are, even though many don't believe me when I tell them so – that's what she is for me, at least. I want to believe she feels the same, but with Winter… nobody really knows. She could be planning to kill me and I wouldn't even notice until her sword was piercing through my stomach." I laugh again.

"I see." She responds with a half-smile, and her shoulders relax a little. She looks… way too relieved.

It strikes, like lightning.

Is she...? Could she really be - jealous?

No. That wouldn't make sense.

Would it?

The question nags at me as I frown, slightly, leaning my head to one side so I can look at her - try to divine it in her face. But no. Why would she be? There's no reason she should be. This is her sister, after all, and... and Weiss doesn't feel the same way I do. She couldn't.

Could she...?

But I don't believe it. I can't. She couldn't. She wouldn't.

She shouldn't.

Any pain I've felt before – and I've hurt with many kinds – is comparable to the oppressing, piercing guilt of knowing that I have somehow tricked her into believing that she's in love with me – because I must have tricked her, for it wouldn't really have any other explanation. Just when did I become so stupid and oblivious to allow it all to happen without realizing it? I only keep messing things up – it seems to have become part of my nature, at this point – but this is… this is way too much.

This is way too wrong.

"Do I have something in my face?" She asks, raising an eyebrow. Her teasing voice pierces my chest like a hook, pulls me down and drags me back to earth.

"Sorry." I mumble, clearing my throat and lowering my sight to the table. I notice that she hasn't tried the food yet. "Please, Weiss, eat something." I ask, static. "You need to gather some strength for your Aura to replenish."

"… Alright." She finally agrees with a soft smile, and takes the first bite. Not many seconds after her cheeks turn to a pale rosy, and she adds: "It's very good, James. Thank you."

I simply nod my head.

Dinner passes in silence, and I barely touch my plate anymore. Remorse eats away my stomach; I couldn't push down anything else.

"Aren't you going to finish your food?"

"I'm… not hungry anymore." I declare, holding back a sigh. "I'm sorry, Weiss. If you'll excuse me…" I move as if to get up, but her voice prevents me from doing it.

"Where are you going?"

"To my room."

"…But you said you were going to show me your office tonight!" She pouts.

"Weiss…" I begin – it surprises me how my voice sounds even more tired than usual.

"Please, James." She begs with a pleading look. "I was really looking forward to it."

"…Okay." I finally sigh, resigned.

Even though it's true that I feel guilty, not even the greatest of my efforts could make me say no to those crystal, icy eyes.

I hadn't been here in many days, since little by little I stopped doing paperwork to surrender the guilty pleasure of allowing myself to spend more time with Weiss. Her company was certainly more appealing than the vain attempt of keeping myself informed about everything happening at the military – it's too much, and I couldn't even take half of it in anyway. In an attempt to escape the guilt, I told myself I only allowed myself to do it so she wouldn't feel alone; and yet, even though that was true, I should have stopped the moment I suspected there was another reason behind it. I do regret it now, knowing that keeping each other company has fueled not only my feelings towards Weiss, but hers towards me also. I am determined, however, that the moment I step out from this room, I'll make sure to keep my distance.

As much as it hurts.

"Wow…"

Weiss' amazed whisper escapes her parted lips as soon as she steps into the room. The soft shimmer of the afterglow comes through the picture window and illuminates the office with a pastel, pink color; its warm light reflects on every surface, creating an otherworldly illusion that, somehow, manages to soothe my aching heart just enough for me to be able to breathe.

Weiss takes her time to wander through the room – her eyes, gleaming in pure awe.

"Do you like it?" I ask, pleased – my barriers breaking into pieces once more at the sight of her porcelain skin enlightened by the violet flames of the burning sky and the soft glow of the blue LEDs distributed all over the office. Guilt seems to have given me a break, at least for the time being.

And I appreciate it.

"It's… it's wonderful, James." Weiss ceases her slow pace at the center of the room, right over the glowing Atlas symbol, and raises her sight from the tens of constellations painted on the floor to look me in the eye. "I didn't know what I was expecting, but it was definitely not this. Did you design it?"

"When I became headmaster of the Academy I had some changes made, yes – it mainly was the floor design, the wall constellations and the LED lights. It looked a lot like Jacques' office before: there was a frieze covering the walls, but everything else was just… plain brown. Since I were to spend a lot of time here from then on, I wanted the office to be to my liking. I'm glad it's to yours, too."

"It is. You… You definitely have good taste."

"You say it as if you were surprised." I raise and eyebrow and smile softly. "Thank you, Weiss. There's another surprise, too." I add. "There is a button under my desk – would you go and press it?"

"You like buttons a lot, don't you?" Weiss chuckles, and I return a genuine laughter. She turns around to approach the desk, but stops before the picture window to take a look. "Wow, James." She says after a few seconds. "You weren't lying about the view."

"It won't be long until night falls." I respond. The violet sky is slowly fading into dark blue, carrying its fire away and little by little darkening the room – the blue LEDs seem to shine even brighter now. "I assure you it will be even better then."

Weiss nods with a smile and finally approaches the desk to press the hidden button – when she does, a circular table emerges from the floor without a noise, right where she was standing just a few moments ago.

"A table." She says. I can see her raised eyebrow from the other side of the room, and the disappointment in her voice sounds exactly the same as when we entered the training room and she asked if it was all.

"You're quick to take things for granted." I remark, amused. "Of course it's not just a table. Come here."

She hastens to make it to my side.

"The table's surface is a touch screen." I explain, pointing at it with a gesture of my hand. "If the center of the Atlas' logo is touched, then…"

Weiss doesn't wait to my petition this time – she simply goes and straight presses the logo. I always take delight in seeing how the amazement builds up in her face – her lips part with surprise, letting a muffled noise out and turning into a pleased smile not long after; and her eyes – oh, her eyes – they shine with the fire of a million shooting stars, reflecting the blue light of the City of Atlas' hologram that now floats in the middle of the room just like the real one does right above the tundra, day after day.

"It surely wasn't just a table." She softly snorts.

"Indeed." I look at her and nod with a smile. "We have a lot of 3D models saved in the military data base – they're actually very useful to design new airships and weapons among other things, but there's one in particular that I use the most. It… it really doesn't have much to do with the military, though, but I like it. Whenever it's stormy outside and the night sky can't be seen behind the dark clouds, I'll just…"

I touch the screen again, and the hologram of Atlas City disappears; in the blink of an eye a projection of the celestial vault surrounds us completely as if we were trapped under the sky, and I can hear Weiss' loud gasp when hundreds of stars are mirrored in her eyes. She turns over herself to admire it – her lips, parted in surprise. She raises her hand, hesitant, to touch the simulation, but the light escapes through her fingers as they move through one of the constellations.

"This is beautiful, James." She murmurs. "Do you know all their names?"

"I do." I declare.

"I don't believe you." Weiss responds with an amused snort, and looks away from me to run her eyes over the hologram; a few seconds later, she points at one of the constellations, and asks: "How is this one called?"

"Lux Draco."

"And that one?"

"The Tower."

"You could be making up their names."

"I could." I concede. "I guess it's up to you to believe me or not. Or – you could check one of my many astronomy books to verify it; they're over there, in one of the shelves."

Weiss dismisses it with a gesture of her hand.

"Or – I could check it on my scroll." Weiss picks it up from one of her pockets, and it doesn't take long for her to sink her eyes into the screen, fully focused. I laugh softly and shake my head a little. After a few seconds of searching, she finally admits: "Okay, you weren't lying. But now, James, I have a question for you… Which one is The Crown?"

"Is this a test?" I ask mockingly, raising an eyebrow.

"Hush, and answer me!" She demands.

"It's that one." I sigh, amused, pointing at one of the constellations in front of us.

"It says here that you're right. But it doesn't look like a crown." She frowns.

"I know." I snort a hushed laugh. "You have to imagine it. Constellations are… kind of abstract, I suppose."

"I can see that." She replies, rolling her eyes. "Okay, James, last question. Which one is… The Snowflake?"

I lean my head to a side, smiling softly, and I know it's the absolute truth when I declare: "That one doesn't exist."

"Alright." She finally concedes. "You passed the test."

All I do in response is let out a hushed laugh.

Under the glow of the holographic hemisphere, I hadn't realized that every remaining trace of sunlight is gone now.

"Well, it's dark already. I think it's time." I say. A touch on the screen and the hologram is gone – the office, previously enlightened by dying fire, now swims in the shifting dark blue and black shadows casted by the night sky. I turn my sight to Weiss – she looks completely astonished. Before I can say anything, she hastens to approach the window – her silhouette cuts against the shattered moon, framed like a picture frozen in time. Slowly, trying to not startle her – for she seems to be completely blown away by the view – I make it to her side.

Beneath our feet, Atlas' night life bustles – an spectacle of moving car lights, illuminated advertisement panels and a general cyan glow that comes from its busy streets; far beyond, the barrier that prevents the city population from falling off the edge; and even further, the silent, immeasurable snowed tundra that extends as far as our eyes can reach. The entirety of Atlas can be seen from up here; however, it's not the city that buzzes below us what takes my breath away – neither is the sky lays above us.

It's her.

It's always her.

What are you doing, James?

"I've never seen anything like this." She finally murmurs, leaning forward until her forehead touches the window– her breath mists the glass around her lips as she speaks. "Not even the sight from the airship is comparable. I understand why you used to spend so much time here. You really like the sky, don't you?"

"I do." I admit with a smile. "Nights were always peaceful and quiet, at least until all the students left the Academy. They became oppressive and awfully lonely, then. But not anymore." I say, and I look at her with a smile.

James, stop.

"Besides, I think that… I think that just seeing how the sky colors change acts like a reminder, for me – a reminder that no matter what happens, no matter how stuck we think we are, the world keeps spinning, and there will always be another day, another chance to try again – to be better. It… somehow soothes me."

Yes, James. There will always be another day for you to mess things up.

"I understand." She replies with soft voice.

We stay like this for a while, just looking out of the window – Weiss, me, and the voice at the back of my head, whispering things that I don't want to hear. When it comes insufferably loud, I try to drown it with my own voice.

"By the way, Weiss, did you know that your cape is actually pretty accurate to the celestial vault? I have noticed. Whoever sewed the constellations did a more than decent research job."

"Really?" She asks with interest, turning his sight to look at me.

"Yes." I respond. "Look. There's The Lux Draco." I say, pointing at one of the cluster of stars. "And there's the…"

"The Crown." Weiss replies with a smile, and I do the same. "And your tie?"

"Well, my tie is not that accurate. It's a much smaller amount of fabric, so they only sewed a few of them."

"Can I see?"

"Of course." I say. I make as if to untie it, but before I can do it, Weiss stands on tiptoe to grab the tie gently and pull it out of the jacket uniform – as my heartrate fastens at the speed of light and deafens me, she keeps pulling down, making me bend down until the fabric is at her eye level. She's close – she's very close, and her body, her hands, her lips are calling me, pulling me like a magnet – and oh, Gods, I'm made of metal and flesh and the craving is too powerful to tear me apart once more, but I have to resist – I must, for I have sworn to myself that I will keep my distance, and that is a promise that I shall not break.

But Weiss' muffled voice finds its way through the storm anyway.

"The Tower." She murmurs.

"Wei…?"

And all my inner self is shaken when she pulls down one last time and presses her lips against mine.

A lightning bolt comes from the very center of my core and explodes like a supernova; it runs down my spine and spreads through body and soul, making my knees and hands tremble and leaving me as defenseless, as weak and exposed as I've ever been. It's sweet, and soft, and caring – all of the things that suture my aching, bleeding heart, that's trying its best to beat harder than ever to remind me that I, despite everything, am still human.

And it hurts like hell knowing that I, like always, have to let the steel win once more.

Weiss' pupils are gleaming when we separate, and her smile is the most beautiful that has ever lit up her face. There's nothing I want to do more than to kiss her again, to hold her in my arms; however, it's the metal that speaks when I, five centimeters away from her lips, murmur:

"I'm sorry."

There's a question in her eyes, and it is one that I cannot answer.

"I'm sorry." I repeat – my voice chokes as the lump in my throat tightens. I turn around to leave, but Weiss' grabs my hand – I try to apologize again, but my none of my drowned words manage to leave my lips. I can't stay, so, with a gentle pull and twist of my wrist -

I'm the one to let go.

I'm sorry.

Empty hallways

I'm sorry.

Empty room

I'm sorry.

Empty chest

See, James? There's always another chance for you to fuck everything up.