Mornings are a chore.
Atlesian weather bears little mercy in hours which aren't midday, and despite the state-of-the-art heating here, Weiss assures that there is a discernible difference between the heat of a weighted duvet and the heat of the rooms.
Ruby is not a gentle alarm clock, either, and one that thereby awakens the happy antics of Blake and Yang - once Blake had come around from her deep slumbers, that was.
Double trouble, in its purest form.
Weiss avoids the canteen today, not because there is anyone there she would rather avoid (like she had found herself contemplating while at Beacon), but because today's weather is cruel enough to leave the sun still cowering behind clouds above mountains, and without its warmth gleaming through those wall-height windows she thinks the canteen will be too cold to be worth it.
So, turning to her only other option, she takes to the floor kitchen-lounge instead, which both their teams share between one another. That means she can remain in the warmth of her pyjamas for a little while longer, and has access to the humbler, more artisan sort of breakfast stuffs: porridges, fruits, coffees, granolas, et cetera.
Although, it would seem a certain someone has had the same idea too, and that means Weiss is now forced to hold the slowly crumbling pieces of her dignity together as she stands adjacent in only her pyjamas.
Mornings are a chore.
Jaune himself is fully dressed and ready, even with his sword sheathed and his armour fastened, and the silence between them buckled as he picks a cereal bowl from the rack, and then slides it onto the surface they share.
And then he slides a sachet of 'just add hot milk' porridge from his pocket.
And then tears it open and empties it into his bowl within one swift motion.
Weiss hadn't expected such preparation from him, certainly not for something like breakfast (she was only on the brink of deciding on her cereal); but then again, it was the 'most important meal of the day', so perhaps he had taken that to heart.
Certainly wasn't unlikely.
With the powder dispensed alongside a teaspoon, he reaches for an opaque jar and clicks the lid off, which opens with a puff of sweet-smelling vapour. He pours it into the bowl, and as the sachet had suggested, hot milk pours out and fills the porcelain slowly.
Weiss is somewhat taken aback. "Where did you get that from?"
"Oh, I made it earlier." He shrugs, and as the jar ceases its dispense, he settles it to the surface and flicks the lid closed. "It's insulated - keeps the milk warm."
Weiss thinks she knows what insulation does. "Quite."
A short silence permeates, but it resonates with transience and soon enough Jaune speaks up again as he stirs his breakfast ready.
"Do you put honey or sugar in porridge?"
What?
"What?" Weiss' eyes blink irregularly as she steadies her etiquette, and Jaune drops his spoon with a clink of metal as he snatches up a bag of sugar. "Pardon?"
"Just wondering." Jaune squeezes the bag in his hand, and the base of it swells and then consolidates as the mass inside is forced downwards. "Nora puts honey in hers. Ruby has sugar." His eyes dart from the bag and land on her, and his left hand lifts from the surface and gestures openly at her. "Ren has neither, you know? He says you shouldn't have sugar in your cereal."
Not the most controversial of points, Weiss would think. "Well... he's right." She forces herself to be honest, despite the growing face of disappointment that Jaune wears. "You don't want it to spike your blood sugar - you need the energy to be released during the day."
"Yeah..." Jaune looks confusedly at her. "That's what the oats do."
"But..." Weiss has to hold back a smirk. "But, you're ruining it with the sugar."
There's a short pause of thinking, then his eyes flash with realisation. "Well, not necessarily." Jaune drops the bag, and it lands on the surface upright but with a weighty impact. "I was going to have honey, anyway." He swipes up the bottle somewhat suavely, emphasised by his confident smile, but his grip isn't quite right on the thing and it soon flings out of his hand as he brings it toward himself.
It spins in the air a few times, clashing against the surface, and then clangs against his bowl and the lid of it lands directly in the porridge.
Weiss nearly laughs.
Oh so, very nearly.
"Come on..." Jaune winces, picking the bottle up hastily by its base and pulling it out of his porridge. He glances at her. "Don't look so pleased."
Weiss chokes, and realises she's been beaming at his misfortune as she focused upon not laughing.
"I wasn't-" The smile turns to thinned lips, and she licks at them unsurely. "It was just..." She tilts her head in a gesture of honesty. "...that was quite funny."
Jaune makes a faux look of upset, but it soon turns to a smile as he looks away and eyes the kitchen sink. "At least you got a laugh out of it." A huff falls from his lips. "Gimme a minute."
Unintentionally charming.
Clumsy.
Thank you to those who left such kind words on the last chapter, it means a lot.
Happy holidays (whatever you may be celebrating this time of year) to all.
adaora