Sometimes I wonder what it must be like to be in love.

I have seen it, of course - with Yang. Each and every one of team RWBY has seen Yang risk her life and literally lose a limb in the name of fighting for us, but I have never seen such ferocity as when she sees Blake in danger. When I see Yang like that, raw fury blazing gold, I have no doubts that - if it were possible - she would stop the tide on her own in the name of saving Blake.

And, of course, Yang is gentle, too. Even the sun sets, even magma cools. Yang looks at Blake like the stars were born and will die in her eyes, like the very secrets of the world can be gleaned from just a few more moments together. Her hands - capable of denting steel, of shattering bone - move with such care, such reverence, that I know without doubt the depths of her love for Blake.

For all of me, I cannot fathom how I am the only one to see it. Perhaps it is because I fail to stop myself from watching too closely, and catch too many moments of quiet affection between them. The ever-soft brushes of Yang's knuckles against Blake's cheek, the way she hangs on each and every word from Blake's mouth as though they alone give her life, the focus she gives everything that Blake does - from the mundane to the fantastical, and everything in between.

It is no doubt that I wonder what loving someone must be like, when I see Yang love Blake with all of her being, each and every day.

It is easy to see in Blake, as well - perhaps even easier. Blake throws herself willingly into Yang's inferno, confident that she will escape unscathed each and every time. The fluidity with which they fight together is unmatched, and requires levels of trust that many will never even witness. Yet Blake offers it without fanfare, without hesitation. Even when she is in danger, she knows that Yang is not far behind, and it is easy to see that she does not feel fear for herself. Why should she, when she alone can stand at the center of the sun and live?

Blake does not dare the world to question the depth of her feelings, she knows she is not the bright pillar of declaration that Yang is. Instead, she is presence. She is reading with Yang asleep on her shoulder after a training session, she is unconditional affirmation when insidious thoughts take root, she is quiet pride in what they have - regardless of what others can see. Blake loves as she trusts - slowly, carefully, but unerringly once she is sure.

I have no doubts that Blake inspires my desire to know love, for when I see her do it, it lights in me a fire of yearning - to love as she does.

Sometimes I wonder what Ruby will be like in love. She is so much, so good, that I cannot fathom how it would be anything but beautiful to see. When I fight alongside her, I can see the unshakable confidence she has - not only in herself, now, but in each of us. Ruby simply knows that we will succeed, no matter how many times team RWBY fights together, no matter how many foes we may face. That alone is enough to grant solidity to one's self.

I can imagine her love would be heady, intoxicating. To have the force of a bright, sunny day focused entirely on you. To be reminded in constant touch - a tap of her fingers, a grasp of the hand, a hug, a kiss - that she is in love with you, and simply cannot let it go unsaid, in some form. Ruby would, no doubt, encourage you to love yourself as much as she loves you.

Even the imaginings of seeing Ruby in love make me ache with curiosity to know what it is to love.

I slam the shower to 'off' and close my eyes, let my head rest against the glass of the shower door. I do wonder what it must be like to be in love, but I wonder more why it hurts to imagine.