A man unlocks the door to his apartment and steps inside. Weiss quickly passes by him and slowly lowers herself onto the couch. She reaches for the remote, but doesn't bother to turn the tv on; she sits in relative darkness, with only the front light illuminating her. He flicks the living room lights on and pull up a chair; if Weiss was sitting down, she clearly wants a moment of rest after all the walking, so bringing her stuff out could wait. She still has only ever gotten a cursory glance at the apartment, anyway, so he might as well allow her to stick around. He plans on heading back to the dorms tomorrow, so he probably won't have any major reasons to come back.
Both the man and Weiss share a tender moment of restful silence, unwinding after a long day. Well, long day in the sense that he had had first five-course meal and did a bit of walking around a park. There was no strain to be had, but it was nice to sit down for a bit. There was something... powerful about the whole scene. While one would not normally welcome silence in the presence of their significant other, this was a serene moment shared by him and Weiss. The quiet was a decompressing feeling, letting him know that when there was no need to speak, there was no need to speak. Sometimes, a relationship is just understanding when it's the proper time to let the world talk for a little while.
Weiss adjusts her seat on the couch, lowering herself and relaxing a bit more, stretching her legs up onto the other cushions. She closes her eyes and smiles as she rests her head on the armrest. She sort of snuggles in, yawning a bit.
"You said you slept here, right?"
"Up until yesterday, yeah. Sorry if it's a bit messy."
Looking a bit off to the side, Weiss lids her eyes, making her comment of, "I-It smells like you," more offhand. Just as quickly, her eyes widen, and she says, "T-that's not weird, is it?" She looks away, suddenly self-conscious of such an unorthodox phrase.
"I wouldn't say so."
"Well, I think it's kind of calming, to be honest," Weiss says, relaxing even further into the couch. "I feel like I'm close to you." She looks like she's close to falling asleep, with a small, satisfied smile. The man finds the way her hair starts to fall on her face to be quite adorable, as it plays with that perfect princess look she's forced to cultivate.
"There's no reason for me not to be on that couch with you, if just for a bit,"
"A-actually," Weiss starts, sitting up a bit. She looks down at something and then to her boyfriend. Running a hand through the side of her hair to place it back behind her ear where it belongs, she says, "My… my feet kind of hurt…" Looking at him with candy in her eyes and sugar in her smile, she asks, "Could you… massage them?"
This, of all things, was a moment the man planned for. After all, the impetus of the entire relationship with Weiss started with a foot rub. Way back when, she'd injured herself fighting a mugger, and he ended up accidentally asking her out after a quick massage. Even that far back, he saw that she enjoyed it immensely, potentially even too much; he distinctly remembers at least one stifled moan come from her lips, and that was before he even knew her. He definitely had been brushing up on techniques every so often for just such an occasion; Weiss was a woman who liked to be spoiled, and he loves every chance he gets to spoil her. She deserves it, after all, for working so hard to please.
"I'd love to," the man tells Weiss. Stopping in his tracks, he makes a quick trip to the bathroom. He washes his hands, grabs a cup, fills it with warm water, collects a small towel, and takes a bottle of scented lotion Blake had conveniently left behind. If he was going to do this, he was going to do it right. Weiss was going to learn about the research he put into this.
When the man returns to Weiss, she was fully sitting up and had removed her boots. Thanking the Brothers, she leaves the privilege of removing her knee socks to him; knowing full well where his hands were going, Weiss nervously parts her legs to just the right width apart and lets him gently grab the elastic snuggly around her upper thigh. The man and Weiss share a silent gaze as he wordlessly begins pulling down her knee sock, trying his best not to look where he shouldn't. She lifts her leg to help him pull it off and get it past her heel, and repeats for the other leg. While she would probably say the whole foot rub thing was a random request, the fact that she had perfectly manicured toenails painted light blue led him to believe that this is part of her plan to be alone.
Now that Weiss is barefoot, the man can really start the massage. He wets the towel in the warm water and wrings it out, leaving it damp. Taking Weiss' foot by the heel, he begins rubbing it with the water, cleaning off the sweat of the day and giving her a soft, warm starter. He repeats the process for her other foot, leaving them ready to be intimately touched; he starts by rubbing his palms together to warm them, then begins with long, slow strokes up the pale, delicate skin. Immediately, Weiss has to stifle her pleasure, quick shots of breath escaping her gentle lips. The strokes were apparently to help start blood flow, but it also clearly just felt good on its own.
The man adds lotion to his hands and repeats the longer strokes up Weiss' foot. On account of him being very close to the scent, he can now safely say that Blake prefers a cinnamony air as opposed to Weiss' preference of vanilla, but it works nonetheless. Now that her foot was properly circulated, he begins rolling her ankle; it supposedly helps out with joint pain, but Weiss' continuing vocalizations lead him to believe it's also a good feeling. Cupping her heel with a hand, he gently rolls her foot, releasing all sorts of tension.
Spurred on by Weiss' enjoyment, he takes the time to individually pull each of her toes. He goes very slow and attempts to be very delicate, seeing as his fingers were massive compared to her toes. It's still a little awkward, but Weiss doesn't say to stop; she was greatly enjoying every moment of this, and he couldn't help but notice that she was slowly opening her legs a bit wider with every minute.
Reaching the end of the guide the man read, he applies pressure to the arch of her feet. He starts with only a little, but quickly do more as he finds more tension pushing back; Weiss practically lives in high heels, so her foot carries a lot of built-up strain that he helps release in bursts. Weiss bites her lip, experiencing a powerful catharsis as her boyfriend presses deep. With that finished, he once again washes her foot with the warm towel and then move to the other foot.
As the man massages Weiss' other foot, he starts to peek upwards. In addition to Weiss' soft smile and slightly labored breathing, he flicks his eyes downward. Weiss notices this and her smile widens. Her legs had spread open enough to tease her panties, and this seems very much intentional. Allowed to peek, the man sees the only thing better than seeing Weiss' photo shoot in her underwear; before him is the hint of a pair of flirty black panties, with sections deliberately missing in strategic areas to add more tease.
The man's mind racing, he finishes massaging Weiss' other foot after a very thought-provoking silence. Unsure of how to proceed, he waits until finally looking up to his girlfriend's face; the sparkling blue eyes say much, but her hand says more as she extends it to him to grab. Understanding what was about to happen, he places the damp towel aside and reaches out to hold Weiss' hand. Wordlessly, she stands, leading to him climbing to his feet as well. Weiss begins walking away from the couch to the only location that made sense.
The man lets Weiss lead him into the bedroom. Clear of Blake's things, the bed was clear save a few pillows and a blanket, and the floor only had pajama pants lying around. Weiss lets go of the man's hand and takes a long, deep, exhilarating breath devoid of most composure.
"I love you," Weiss says, completely rehearsed. Had it been off the cuff, she would have stumbled. "I think I've been teasing you too much over the break with those photo shoots; I think it's time you got a taste of the real thing…" Very labored, Weiss reaches for the buttons lining the front of her Snowpea and unclasps them; she slides her arms out of her sleeves and hesitates.
"Weiss…"
Her face red and her lip firmly bit, Weiss lowers her outfit, skirt, top, and all. Before the man stands a pale-skinned woman forcing confidence in lingerie; a black bralette covers her flushed chest, thin strings feigning extra coverage while sheer patterns leave little hidden. Her panties, rather than the normal triangle-shape, were instead a diamond, leaving significant portions of her lower waist exposed and framed, while her secret was covered by more see-through flourishes. The dark fabric clashes magnificently with her icy skin, drawing out every portion of her body and leaving enough tease to drive a man mad.
Though Weiss' bra had a small red bow between her breasts, the real gift was her reaching up to her ponytail. With one swift motion, she releases her symbol of rebellion, letting her snowy hair cascade downwards to her look of submission. Seeing Weiss with her hair completely down was seeing her at her most vulnerable; her hairstyle carried many meanings, exemplified by the refusal to keep it straight while also keeping her tiara. It placed her as the rebellious Schnee, holding on to her name but refusing to let it bind her. Without it, she was simply a woman who loved a man, no name needed.
"I love you."