"You know what the problem was with all of the previous attempts?" Yang says.

"Well, you're the one who suggested most of them, and you thought they couldn't go wrong," Ruby points out.

"Okay, that's true, but that's not the point. The problem is that they're all too unclear. Playing music for Weiss or making her food or saving her from Grimm just says 'we're close', not 'I have feelings for you'." Yang folds her arms, looking satisfied.

"Like I said, you came up with all of these ideas."

"Yeah, well, you actually did them, so don't get all high and mighty about that. Anyway, the one thing that's been missing so far is actually telling her how you feel."

"I can't do that! You know I get all mixed up when I try to talk to people about my feelings." Ruby has a tendency to stutter and talk herself in circles and make up words trying to describe her emotions, and while her own family knows her well enough to piece together what she's trying to say, it's not exactly romantic.

"You can't tell her to her face, so you should write a letter," Yang says. "I already borrowed Blake's stationery, without telling her but that's just semantics, so the letter will look nice."

"Write Weiss a letter?"

That's – kind of old-fashioned, but not actually a bad idea.

"I got the idea from one of Blake's books. The tragic star-crossed lovers are always writing letters to each other proclaiming their love."

"Do you actually like sappy romance books now?" Ruby asks, giving her sister a look of mock despair. "The horror!"

"Yeah, the horror," Yang mutters. "They've kind of grown on me, now shut up."

"You mean you don't like romance, but you like Blake," Ruby says, dodging the punch aimed at her arm.

"I told you to shut up, Rubes. Now go write a letter."

…

Weiss is more than a little surprised to see a letter on her desk. There's no postage stamp on it, so it can't have come from her family. The stationery is thick cardstock of the decent but not overly expensive kind, with no monogram. Crudely drawn hearts litter the front.

Odd, to say the least. Weiss is tempted to toss it into the garbage, but she refrains. It could be a letter from someone slightly less – interesting than Jaune.

She unfolds the letter and begins to read. The handwriting is aggressively awful, meandering in sloping lines down the page. Portions are liberally crossed out.

Dear Weiss

Dearest Weiss

My dearest callipygian Weiss –

Well, starting a romantic letter by complimenting her buttocks is certainly one way to go about things.

I yearn for you each day. Your eyes are like starlight, except stars aren't blue and are smaller than your eyes.

Clearly, the author has never heard of blue stars, so Jaune certainly isn't ruled out as a suspect. The author seems to be yanking cliches out of poetry at random with no regard for their actual meaning. Presumably the rather unconventional opening of the letter results from a similar misunderstanding.

Your hair is soft, or it probably is but you never let me touch it, and shiny like some kinds of beetles.

Weiss is very proud of her hair. She doesn't like people touching it, and she certainly doesn't appreciate it being compared to beetles.

You pretend that you're all tough and strong and emotionless, but I see past your walls –

Okay, that's not bad.

and see that you're actually weak and soft and full of emotions.

Never mind.

Weiss is very strong, and tough, and doesn't have emotions. Or at least doesn't have inconvenient emotions like infatuation. She most certainly is not full of emotions, though.

You're so beautiful when you fight, and your hair is all swishy, and you destroy Grimm just by doing ballet moves with a cool sword.

That is not how Weiss fights. To suggest that is a craven insult to her time-honored skills. Maybe it is Jaune talking; he does seem exactly that clueless about the art of fighting.

You have pretty hands. They're all soft, and thin, and you probably moisturize them because they smell like flowers.

Well, at least Weiss's mystery admirer is back to the inept but good-hearted prose.

In short, you're kind of scary but still very cute. Not as cute as my dog, though, because your butt is kind of flat and his is fluffy and much nicer.

This is just rude. Weiss doesn't appreciate being compared to dogs, particularly when she loses the comparison, and even more particularly when she loses because someone thinks her butt is flat. Some people just have smaller frames than others. Honestly.

The letter ends there. Weiss flips the letter over and turns the envelope inside out searching for a signature, and finds none.

Presumably all this was some kind of prank, most likely by her teammates. She can picture them together, laughing over the letter, making her think someone had feelings for her and then brutally crushing her dreams.

Weiss screws up the letter and tosses it into the garbage, then stabs it with Myrtenaster until it's reduced to atoms. How dare they.

…

"Wait, did I sign the letter?"

Yang shrugs.

"Maybe? I wasn't paying much attention to your questions."

"Well, if I forgot, I can go tell her I wrote it, so all my effort isn't for nothing."

Ruby rushes up to their dorm and barges in without bothering to knock. Weiss is standing by the door, enthusiastically stabbing something in the wastepaper basket.

Has she finally snapped and murdered someone, or is she just taking out her frustrations?

Weiss's face slowly tilts up. Without a word, she stops stabbing whatever's in the basket and sits down at her desk, very deliberately not looking at Ruby.

Ruby fishes through the trash to find the letter. It's torn into a few pieces, but it's clear enough that Ruby didn't actually sign it. Darn.

On the bright side, Weiss clearly didn't like the letter, so Ruby is saved from her wrath by her own negligence.

"Well, uh, have a good day, Weiss!"

Ruby heads out. Weiss is still determined not to look at Ruby, but as the door closes, Ruby could swear she hears a sob. But that would be silly, since Weiss doesn't cry, particularly not over things like love letters.