Notice:

There will be no updates from 13th – 19th June inclusive of both days. I'm away at an expo and stuck going out with clients pretty much every night. Going to be exhausted, overworked and drunk or hungover whenever I'm not. I'll be back 20th June to write as normal. That means it'll be three weeks instead of two until the next chapter of this. Sorry.


Cover Art: GWBrex

Chapter 8


"I looked like an idiot."

"You're fifteen." Ironwood said. "That tends to happen at your age."

Was that supposed to help? Jaune had been kind of hoping the man would tell him it wasn't as bad as he thought or that he was reading things wrong, not agree with him being a colossal moron. Groaning, he let his face fall into his hands. Open mouth, insert food, the mantra by which he'd lived his teenage years obviously hadn't gone away. He'd just been too busy to bump into it in the last few months. Weiss was the first pretty girl – beautiful, really, pretty didn't do her justice - he'd bumped into and had a chance to talk to. Everyone else was either dying, dead or had someone who was one of the two. Not exactly great moments for romance.

"I made a fool of myself."

"You're hardly the first to do so nor will you be the last."

"Do you… Do you think I should say sorry?"

"I find it's best to ignore social mistakes like that. Most people are happy to pretend they never happened rather than re-live the embarrassment."

He really wished he'd convinced his mom to come with him now. Mr Ironwood was nice and never lied or made things sound better than they were, which he usually liked, but he could have done with a pat on the shoulder and a nice truckload of white lies right now. No sooner had he given the girl the rose – her own rose, no less; he was such an idiot – had he run off and hidden. The rest of the guests were coming to wish her a happy birthday now, forming a long line, and he could make out her sparkling face at the front.

He'd heard of love at first sight and kind of assumed it was a thing put out for tv and movies. Growing up with mom and dad and their stories of dad basically hunting mom like a Grimm for years, and her stringing him along for tips and money as a Mountain Glenn orphan who needed to earn cash fast, had taught him that real love came over time. Or at least the love he was used to seeing. He'd always thought himself mature for believing that over the whole children's movie romance nonsense you saw in the cinema.

Apparently, he'd been wrong.

Weiss Schnee sparkled like a diamond. That wasn't him trying to be poetic either. She had glitter on her face, along with little sequins stuck to her cheek to make her show up more on the stage. Her eyes were the brightest blue he'd ever seen, her hair the whitest white, and she was so small and perfect and argh! Jaune banged his head on the table, blood staining his cheeks and neck dark red. "I'm so stupid!"

"Hmmm." Ironwood hummed.

"I… I just… My brain. My mouth. I didn't even think!"

"Common problem. Doesn't really go away as you get older either."

"I messed it up!"

"Hmhm."

"She must think I'm an absolute idiot!"

"Probably."

Jaune pushed his head out his arms and glared at the man. "Could you at least pretend to be sympathetic?"

"Do you want me to?" Ironwood asked. He looked bored, but then he was the general of an army and this was a child's birthday party. If it wasn't for the very small chance someone might try to kidnap or harm him, Ironwood wouldn't be here at all. "Jaune, I know this is very embarrassing and all, but believe me when I say you'll have plenty more embarrassing moments like this in the future. It really isn't anything to get worked up over."

"I'll never have a chance with a girl like that again."

"There are plenty more fish in the sea."

"Not like her!"

"Ahem." A servant or butler cleared their throat from beside them. He looked far more fancily dressed than the others he'd seen serving drinks and snacks around the hall. His head was bald, but tufts of brown hair stuck out around the sides and back, and his moustache, though much like Jacques', was brown. He was stocky and a little shorter than Jaune was. "Good day, sirs. I bring a message from my lady Weiss Schnee."

Jaune perked up so hard he nearly pulled his back. "From Weiss!?"

"That is what I said, yes." The man's smile took on an amused edge. It made Jaune blush and duck his head a little, to which the butler chuckled. "Perhaps the young sir will find the news pleasing. My lady has asked if you will sit with her during the main meal."

He couldn't believe it.

"Your lady has, or Jacques has?" Ironwood asked shrewdly.

"My lady," the man replied. "Jacques was quick to remind her she had the right as birthday girl to decide who sat with her, but it was she who immediately thought of the young man in question." The words had Jaune vibrating with energy. The butler saw and smiled even wider. "Quite shy about it she was as well, hence why she asked me to speak to you in her stead. Forgive her, she has not been fifteen for even a day yet and is still winded from her performance."

"No! I mean yes! I mean it's no problem!" Jaune flailed with his words like a drowning man a piece of driftwood. "A-And I'd be happy to s-sit with her. Should I now…? Is there a way-"

"I can escort you to her table now if you please. General Ironwood is, of course, extended an invitation as well."

"Of course I am." Ironwood rumbled. He stood with a grunt. "Very well then."

They were moving before Jaune could really process it, and before he could think up a plan of action! What was he going to say? What should he say? Play it cool or go all out? Dad always said confidence was the best way, but he wasn't feeling confident at all. I need time to calm myself down. I need time to think. I need time to- she's there! She's there and she's looking right at me!

There was no time for anything. In the seconds – it had been longer but felt less – time it took to walk from their table to the main one, at which sat the Schnee family and some people Jaune assumed were guests, Councilman Sleet and Camilla were there as well, Jaune had thought of nothing but panic. And now he was facing her again, the girl rising quickly from her seat and smoothing her flowing skirts down urgently. Her pale skin was flushed pink, but unlike him she managed the most beautiful smile he'd ever seen, her eyes and skin sparkling as she faced him.

All he managed was a strangled sound choked off before it could humiliate him and an almost hysterical hand stuck out in her direction. "Hi!" he said, louder than he needed to. Everyone was quiet, watching, as if they didn't have anything better to do. "I'm Jaune. Jaune Arc. Which you already know. Because I introduced myself earlier." And because everyone knew him, but he didn't say that because it sounded awful and because a girl like this clearly had better things to do than think about an idiot like him.

"Weiss Schnee." Her hand touched his and Jaune's heart jolted like a car blaring to life. Her skin was so soft and her hand was so small! He'd held his little sister's hand obviously, usually helping her across the road or keeping her close when out shopping, but that didn't feel so silky smooth or so warm and tender. This wasn't the hand of a small girl liable to run off and get lost if he let go of her. This was a beautiful woman.

And she'd said something to him that he'd absolutely failed to pay attention to, too busy staring at her and getting lost in the act. It wasn't until Ironwood cleared his throat that he realised he was supposed to say something back, and by that point it was far, far too late.

Play it cool! For the love of any god out there, play it cool!

He had no idea how to do such of course. Never having had a girlfriend, nor his first kiss, he went straight for the only medium he had any experience in – videogames and movies. They probably weren't the best choice but there was nothing else. Jaune wracked his mind for a cool video game character and what they'd do, and instead he remembered a guy from an animated cartoon his sisters liked, a prince charming. It would have to do.

"I'm sorry." Jaune drew her hand up, bowed forward and kissed her knuckles. There was a gasp, not from Weiss but someone else, and a flash of light from off to the side as a camera snapped. He looked up, hoping that Weiss wasn't utterly reviled. She looked surprised, shocked as well, but she didn't look unhappy and she hadn't drawn her hand away. He was glad for that, even if his lips felt strangely tingly from kissing her. Less prince creepy and more prince charming. "I-I was distracted," he stammered. "I lost myself gazing at you and…" It was too embarrassing to finish. "Please forgive me."

In the silence left behind, one could have heard a pin drop.

Jaune wondered if anyone heard his confidence hit the floor too.

"Y… Yes…" Weiss' voice was quiet, so quiet he almost didn't hear it. He felt her fingers trembling in his hand a little, though, and for a moment feared the worst. Her blue eyes glanced left and right desperately before finally landing on him, and when they did, they darted down just as quick. "I… I forgi- There is nothing to forgive," she changed her mind quickly. "Would you…" Weiss took a step back and gestured with her other hand to the seat to her left. It would place him between her and another empty seat on his other side for Ironwood. Weiss looked back to him and away again, then said, "Sit with me. Please?"

He wasn't sure if she was nervous because of him or everyone watching, but it was somehow incredible all the same. Since when had anxiety been attractive? He wasn't sure, but it somehow had. This had to be that thing dad had mentioned once, about how you'd know when you loved someone because even the little and unimportant things they did would seem beautiful to you.

Jaune cleared his throat and slapped on his best smile.

"I'd be honoured."

/-/

Weiss had never felt so out of depth in her life.

It was ridiculous! Here she was, heiress to the SDC, and used to so many things that other people would have thought were beyond someone her age. She could talk in public, debate with professors and sing at a professional level. She could also paint, draw, dance and play the violin and the piano, not to mention fake any one of six different smiles for as many occasions and control her boredom to hold a conversation with even the dullest of her father's many investment partners and important business associates. All of that was fine.

Talking to a boy she maybe – maybe – liked was apparently not.

I can't believe he kissed my hand like that. And in front of all these people!

It wasn't the first time someone had tried. There had been that toad a year ago, the son of someone trying to do business with father. She'd wrenched her hand from his the moment his head dipped. There were always people who saw her as an easy way to get to her father's money. The same with Whitley and Winter.

Jaune Arc obviously wouldn't need to. His fame put hers to shame – it put everyone's to shame. He was more well-known than her father was, more well-known than any politician and most celebrities. The idea he'd show interest in her just because of her money or who she was just didn't make sense. It was ridiculous.

Which means he did it because he wanted to.

Weiss wanted to scream at herself for thinking that because it sent such a rush of heat and blood through her that she just knew it showed. No, no, no. She was calm, collected, in control. He was going to think she was an idiot, or worse a fangirl, if she acted like that. And she wasn't - of course she wasn't. Maybe she'd followed his career but who hadn't? This was Jaune Arc. And if she liked what he did and how mature he looked while doing it, well, there was nothing wrong with that, was there? He wasn't a boy like all the others. He was a man. A young man, sure, but more a man than anyone else his age.

A man who called her beautiful and kissed her hand. Weiss crossed her feet under the table and dug her heel into her foot until it hurt. The pain helped her not make a complete idiot of herself in front of him.

"H-How are you finding the party so far?" she asked. It was only right she make conversation when she was the one to invite him to sit with her. When father brought up the fact she could, she'd near had a heart attack. If she were honest, a large part of herself said not to because it would be frightening. This was new, not that someone might like her, but that she might like them back. It was something she wanted to run away from, hide in her room and call Winter about later.

But then, if she refused to acknowledge him after he called her beautiful, then he might think she hated him. That'd be much worse. In the end, she'd forced herself past her pride to ask Klein to speak with him in her place. It wouldn't be so embarrassing if he said no in that case. Father had been pleased, and she wasn't naïve enough as to not know why, but this was different from all those other times she played nice to entertain the son or daughter of someone important.

This time, she'd invited him to sit by her because she wanted him to.

This time, it mattered to her if he enjoyed her presence and conversation, and the thought of alienating him - the Jaune Arc; she still couldn't believe it – was downright horrifying. It was the kind of thing she wasn't sure she'd ever recover from.

"It's amazing."

Weiss' heart skipped a beat. "I-It is?"

Idiot! Moron! What kind of person acted like that about their own birthday party? Probably someone who'd been through fifteen of them already. The grandeur and expense on display was typical for her, and typical for Whitley and Winter's as well, not to mention any one of the man balls, galas and business dinners Jacques liked to host. They'd long since stopped being entertaining for her, and why should they be? She was stuck backstage with makeup artists fussing over her skin and hair, then paraded out on stage. It was everyone else who got to enjoy the various games and activities. Not her.

"I've never seen so many things at a party before. Or so many people. If all these people are here for you, you must be the most popular girl in Atlas."

"Ahh. Not quite." Weiss giggled hollowly. They were here because her father asked them to be. Even Jaune was really. "I'm not that interesting."

"Are you kidding? I think you're interesting!"

Weiss flushed horribly.

What was she meant to say to that?

"I… I think you're interesting as well," she said lamely. The moment she had, she wished she could take it back. What a stupid, asinine, moronic thing to say. "W-What you do is interesting, I mean!" She recovered quickly and, she hoped, admirably. "Giving up your free time, helping people in need and never taking advantage of what you have." Her voice grew stronger, the passion coming naturally and honestly. "I think that's very admirable."

It was his turn to glance away, his cheeks turning pink. Weiss felt her heart skip a beat at that and mentally jumped in the air. It gave her a chance to look at him, too. She'd seen pictures and seen him when he came up to her before, but she'd been tired and distracted at the time. He was tall. Taller than her. Who wasn't? But he was a good tall, whatever that meant. Tall enough to look strong, but not so tall as to be intimidating. Weiss had seen photos of him in the newspaper and online. She hadn't been stalking him of course, it was just that he appeared everywhere on the news.

He looked different in real life. Better. She'd wondered before if the smiles he put on were for the camera in the same way it was with her. They might have been, but he was also quick to smile here. That was novel. Father only smiled when things were going his way and mother hardly did at all. She wasn't even here. Couldn't be bothered to stay sober long enough to wish her daughter happy birthday or ask her if she was doing well. Or even listen to me sing, she thought morosely. Winter couldn't make it either, but she'd called ahead and they'd talked for over an hour, and Winter had sent her a wonderful present. Willow might as well have not known she existed.

Given the lack of smiles, she found his easy expressions… handsome. Charming even. Appealing? It was hard to tell which. All she knew was that she liked when he did, and she especially liked that her words prompted him to smile now. It made her feel special.

"It's not all that special," he said embarrassedly.

Was he kidding? Was he downplaying? Weiss hated when people did that to make themselves sound better, but she felt sure he wasn't this time. He really sees it as nothing special. That's because he's not like father, using his power to make more money. He's a real hero and he's out there helping because he wants to.

Like her grandfather. Like Nicolas Schnee, the beloved and adored man whose legacy Jacques had dragged through the mud in the name of profit. Weiss had never met the man, only ever hearing about him spoken in wistful tones from people who wished the Schnee family could be more like he'd been. Like she wanted to be.

Dinner came before she could talk more on that, and she was privately grateful it did. The act of eating gave her a good excuse to be distracted, and time to gather her thoughts. She kept up a light conversation throughout it, talking as she'd been taught to about simple and unimportant topics. Small talk. Pointless chatter. Except that he answered back so earnestly and honestly, and asked her opinion, that she found herself drawn into it. Even when it was something she knew so little about.

"I-I've not read many comics," she admitted. More like she hadn't read any. They'd never been mature enough for her in her father's eyes, and she'd had better things to focus on. She wished she had more to work with now, though, as she felt like an idiot.

"Maybe I can lend you some of mine."

"I'd like that!" She squeaked it out louder than she meant to, blushing as she felt a few amused looks be sent her way. Her father was among them, which was downright hypocritical. He'd have frowned with so much disappointment if she acted like this normally, so unbecoming of a Schnee, but because it was toward Jaune Arc, and because he was the most important man in the world, it was suddenly all okay.

Well, she wasn't going to play that game.

Jacques might want her to try and win his affection because it benefited the Schnee family, but she wasn't going to. Not for that reason anyway. If she liked someone, it would be because she liked them, not because she was told to.

"I would like that," she said again in a more confident voice. That self-same confidence wavered as she added, "A-And perhaps we can read them together. You can… show me which ones are best."

He was looking at her with wide eyes.

Had she said something wrong? Had she stepped on some comic book social landmine? Weiss sucked in a breath and held it.

"You mean we should meet up again some time?"

All that teaching and lecturing on deciphering what a person meant by their words and expression, and all of it was so very useless. Weiss couldn't tell if he was for or against the idea, though both caused their fair share of mounting panic. "Only if you want to," she demurred. "I just thought-"

"No!"

Her heart fell. Her face did too.

"No!" he said again, his own panic showing. "I mean, I'd love to have you!" His eyes bulged out. "Help you! I mean, I'd love to show you. Maybe… Maybe we can see one of the recent movies, too. Those are cool."

Had Weiss been a faunus… well, father would have disowned her. But had she and he been faunus, and had she ears, they would have rocketed straight up. Cinema? A movie? Lacking as she was with any experience in matters of romance, even she knew of the ubiquitous cinema date, a staple of all first dates no matter where they were. Was he asking her out? No. It was too early for that. Calm yourself, Weiss. Don't jump to a conclusion that will humiliate you later. I should play it slow and let him make the first move.

"I would enjoy that," she said, refusing to meet his eyes. It was for her own sake, as she was afraid she might panic. "That means we'll need to have some way of contacting one another…"

She, of course, couldn't ask for his number. That would be much too humiliating if he said no, especially since he was so important. He probably got a lot of people calling him, and likely had many more important people than she on speed dial. By putting the idea out there but not saying it, she let him reach out. If he wanted to.

And reach out he did, with a heavy blush and a clear stammer.

"M-Maybe we could exchange numbers…"

He wanted to stay in contact with her. He wanted her number. Really, it ought not to have been in any doubt – he had come up, professed her beautiful and shown his interest in no uncertain terms. Maybe it was silly of her to think otherwise, or maybe it was just nerves that convinced her she might have read it wrong when even Klein assured her Jaune was clearly interested. Father had as well, but it was Klein whose word she trusted more. Jacques lied. Klein did not.

Had not, for it wasn't hard to tell that Jaune Arc was interested in getting to know her further. And as her fingers brushed his as she handed her own scroll over, and as she felt her pulse rush to a frantic level, Weiss couldn't help but think she wanted the same. Desperately, she looked over to her right. Jacques was smiling, nodding quickly, but she looked past him, past all the tables to the far wall.

Klein stood there, leaning back against the wall with his arms crossed. On seeing her, he smiled and quickly gave her a nod, urging her to have the courage to go ahead. Weiss sucked in her doubts, tapped her number into his scroll and handed it back to him. As she did, their eyes met, and the nervously excited smile on his face turned her legs and stomach to absolute mush.

He was just too handsome. Too good, too chivalrous, too brave, too mature and too kind. Most of those things she knew only by reputation, but that was fine, right? It was no different than her doing her research, and if she liked what she read then, and she liked what she saw now, and he made her feel like this, then what else was there to say?

He was perfect.

/-/

The night ended far too quickly for Jaune's liking. It was all a blur. They'd talked through the meals, talked after and then talked some more as Ironwood and Jacques spoke in hushed tones, one looking far happier than the other. This had to be the first time he'd ever been able to talk to a girl without making a fool of himself.

That was because Weiss was incredible, he was sure, and not because of any skill on his part. She listened when he talked stupidly about comics, expressed interest in X-Ray and Vav even though she'd never heard of them. In turn, it wasn't hard for him to be amazed listening to her talk about her singing or her efforts to learn to be a huntress. That was cool and he said so, earning a pleased smile from her.

She wasn't like the other girls. Those back home or here in Atlas.

He wished he could spend more time with her. He felt bad for Whitley too, who he'd all but abandoned to fuss over his sister, but he couldn't help how he felt. He'd have to find and apologise to him later. Now, though, it was hard to even feel sorry. His everything was focused on Weiss as she toyed with her fingers while explaining how her rapier worked with dust.

"Can you show me some time?"

"Yes." Weiss' smile was bright. One thing he'd noticed was that she liked when he expressed interest in her hobbies, which wasn't hard given he'd wanted to become a huntsman too. His interest was genuine. "Yes, I can show you. Maybe we can-"

"It'll have to be another time." Jacques Schnee interrupted with a patient smile. Ironwood had come beside him. "Unfortunately, General Ironwood and Mr Arc need to retire for the evening."

Jaune's face fell.

Weiss' too. "Already?" she complained. A moment later, she flushed bright pink and slapped her fingers to her lips.

Jacques chuckled. "I'm afraid so. Mr Arc is a very busy young man – busier than anyone his age has any right to be."

The hospitals. He had another appointment tomorrow morning to resurrect people. Jaune wanted so badly to ask to delay that, but what right did he have to let people die so he could talk with a girl he liked? He sucked in the complaint and rose to his feet, coming over to stand by Mr Ironwood. "Y-Yeah. I guess I do."

"I understand." Weiss nodded as well. "I'd never… It's honourable that you would. Those people need help." Her words were disjointed and she was biting her lower lip. Deciding on something, she stood and approached him quickly. "Thank you for coming tonight. I… I enjoyed talking to you."

He was glad. "I did too."

"I…" Weiss drew a deep breath and let it go. Her eyes locked onto his, sharper than they had been before. "Close your eyes."

Why-? That was what he meant to ask, but he instead found himself doing what she asked. Anything to make her happy frankly, and if she'd asked him to hop around and act like a chicken, he'd have done-

Something soft was pressing against his cheek.

His eyes snapped open in defiance of her wishes, but by that point Weiss was already turning. He caught the last millisecond of her bright-red face before she was hurrying away, practically running from him with her hair flowing out behind her.

Jaune stood there, stunned, as the faint traces of her lip gloss cooled on his cheek.

/-/

It was an impulsive action and one Weiss was sure would come back to bite her. There were reporters here, paparazzi, and the moment had almost certainly been seen. That hadn't been her goal of course, she'd just wanted to make it clear, in case he had any doubts, that he had her interest. It wouldn't do to let him go without knowing, would it?

Her lips tingled. Weiss resisted the urge to touch them, but that only mean the lingering traces of his skin was present. A kiss on the cheek. Childish in a way. She'd intended to go for his lips but panicked at the last. It was a fine and awkward line. The cheek felt childish, the lips felt too adult, and anywhere else would have been indecent. Besides, her first kiss should be special.

How much more special could kissing a boy on my birthday be?

Weiss shook her head violently. This was all too confusing. If Winter were here… but no, Winter couldn't make it despite her best wishes, and she wasn't sure her sister would understand either. Winter had never found anyone to show such interest in. Whitley hadn't either.

"I trust you actually intend the affection you showed, dear sister."

Whitley's voice carried a hint of acid. Weiss whirled. "Whitley. What do you want?"

"To make sure your interest in someone I consider a friend is genuine and not just you doing what father wants, or what is best for you."

"I'd never!"

"Wouldn't you?"

"No," she insisted. "I l-" The word stuck in her throat. "I… I like him. He's… interesting. He doesn't look at me like I'm special because I'm famous."

"Of course he doesn't. He puts you and I to shame."

"Then what's the issue?"

"I'm concerned that it is you looking at him as something special. Not the other way around."

Preposterous. Nonsense. Weiss sniffed loudly at the mere idea of it. She couldn't feel this way just because he was famous and special and something once-in-a-lifetime. That was silly. That was the kind of thing people who weren't already famous fell for because they wanted to share in it. It just didn't make sense that she might experience that, and she said as much to her brother.

"I'll trust your word on that, Weiss," he said. "Have a good evening. And happy birthday."

"Wait," she called, stopping him before he could turn and go back. "Have you seen mother around?"

"Do I look like a wine fountain to you? Of course I haven't seen her." He looked away in clear irritation, and for once she couldn't blame him. "It's been an hour already. I imagine she's been helped back to her room by one of the servants. It's not often she makes it more than an hour before causing a scene or passing out."

His piece said, Whitley left, and as much as she hated his disparaging tone, she couldn't argue with it. He was right. Mother rarely stayed around anymore, and often was in a race to get drunk as fast as she possibly could. It had long since dawned on her and her brother that the reason for this was because Jacques didn't want her drunk at his parties, so the faster she got as such, the faster she had an excuse to leave.

It hardly even stung anymore, even though it was her birthday Willow had skipped out on. It was even more aggravating because she'd wanted to speak with someone who might understand what it was like to be a young woman feeling this way. Klein tried, bless him, but she sincerely doubted he'd ever been in her shoes. Willow had. Or might have. It was hard to tell with how little their mother spoke to them.

I can ask her another day. The only answer I'd get right now would be drunken rambling…

/-/

"Well, well, well."

Mom and dad were waiting for him when he returned with Mr Ironwood – and he recognised those expressions of theirs. The wide grins, the shining eyes, the way Juniper was digging her fingernails so hard into Nicholas' arm he was probably haemorrhaging aura. Jaune was cringing even before his mother lost what little control and leapt forward to hug him.

"My baby, the little Casanova!"

"M-Mooom." Jaune whined. He glared helplessly at Ironwood. "You told her!?"

The man raised a single brow back. "I have been sat beside you in a transport the whole journey back. When could I possibly have found the opportunity? Also, I do not engage in gossip like a schoolgirl."

"He didn't tell us anything." Dad said. "Didn't need to. It's all over the news."

Jaune's stomach fell. "What…?"

His mother opened her scroll to an online article. It hadn't been two hours, hardly even ninety minutes, and there was already a picture of him online kissing Weiss' hand. From the outside, he couldn't help but think he looked twice as stupid as he'd felt, but he could also see that Weiss was blushing. He hadn't noticed that at the time, too busy panicking himself. The title above the picture read simply – "Love is in the air: Miracle boy declares intentions with Schnee heiress".

"D-Declares intention?" Jaune stammered. "I didn't!"

"Then what about this?"

Another image, another accursed angle, this time of him stood stock still with a shocked blush on his face, and Weiss, her face hidden behind his, kissing his cheek. Her delicate hands were resting on his chest, and the next picture showed her pulling back with a frightening blush. Jaune had never felt so embarrassed – not that his parents had the picture, but that by the looks of the number counter of likes and comments, over seventeen thousand people had seen it.

"This isn't the only site running them either." Dad said, driving the knife deeper. "It's all over the internet and as likely to be all over the newspapers tomorrow." Jaune released an unhappy gurgling sound. "Good job, son." Nicholas clapped his back. "I told you it was just a matter of confidence."

Why was his fledgeling love life front page news!? What if this made things worse or even impossible? What if Weiss saw this and felt so embarrassed and angry that she never talked to him again? It was so worrying that he posed that very question to his parents, who didn't look any happier than he.

"He has a point." Juniper whispered. "If you'd gone shouting all over Vale about how you and I were dating when I finally agreed to give you a chance, I'd have dumped you on the spot."

"Good job you didn't find out I did just that but in Beacon."

"Ahem." Ironwood cleared his throat. "While I cannot speak for Miss Schnee directly, I'd point out that she is more used to fame and attention than most other people thanks to her position and her concerts. I expect this is nothing new to her and it certainly isn't the first time she's appeared in the news. This won't intimidate her nearly as much as you think it will."

Okay – that was a good point. He wasn't the only famous on here. It was like Whitley said, it was easier to make friends with other people who had the same fame as you because they wouldn't put you on a pedestal. Except this time, it was because they also knew what it was like to have all this attention. Jaune looked through several other articles, all of them titled in similar ways – some were more cynical, talking more about an Arc-Schnee power couple rather than love, but most were touting them as the cutest thing ever seen, which was embarrassing but not worrying.

Maybe relationships are the same as friendships, he thought. It would be easier to fall in love with someone like Weiss, who wouldn't look at him and only see the famous Jaune Arc, than someone like the girl in the comic store who fell over herself for an autograph. All that didn't really matter because he was absolutely certain he was head over heels, but it was good to know it made sense as well.

"Do you like her?" Mom asked. "Or is it just the newspapers making it sound like you do?"

Jaune squirmed. It was one thing to admit to himself he liked her, and another to admit it out loud. "I… um… I don't dislike her…"

"That's good." Mom's huge grin said she knew exactly what he meant. "And when will this girl you `don't dislike` be coming to meet us, hm? Will you be having any not-dates with her anytime soon?"

"I invited her to see a movie…" Jaune whispered.

"Oh? When?"

"I don't know." Should he have set a date? Maybe, but his timetable was so packed that he'd have to ask the Arc-Ops when he had time off. "I can text her when I do though-"

Too late did he realise his mistake. Mom was sneaky, sneakier than he'd given her credit for, and no amount of snapping his jaw shut protected him from letting it slip that they'd exchanged numbers. Nicholas smiled sympathetically, but soon all Jaune could see was his mother's arms as she engulfed him and squealed eagerly. "My boy has a girlfriend!"

"Mom! No! I haven't asked her out yet!"

"Yet, he says! He hasn't asked her out yet!"

"Moooom!"


Weiss crushing hard and fast with someone she's starstruck with. No way this can go wrong.

There's something so very squicky about writing two fifteen-year-olds trying to do romance, probably because it reminds me of when I was fifteen and the same, and I can assure you that I was god-awful at it. Everyone was in high school. Couples were convinced they'd be together forever as if they'd found "true love" at fifteen, and there were plenty of couples that were basically just popular boy and popular girl with no actual attraction between them, which would fall apart fast. Then there were the real creepy ones where a younger girl would date an older guy (like 13-15) just because they were older and it was cool to have an older boyfriend.

It was all a mess of hormones, misplaced attraction and no experience. I also blame movies, tv and music for making it seem like love was just a thing you were supposed to do and giving us all messed-up ideas of how it worked, rather than just letting people figure it out themselves.

Okay, now I sound like an old man yelling at a cloud.


Next Chapter: 21st June (Three Weeks – see notice at top of chapter)

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P a treon . com (slash) Coeur