What do you call clinging to such a one-sided, unrequited love?
Unfortunate? Sad? Pathetic?
Yet, she can't seem to get him out of her head. All day, every day, Jaune Arc pervades every corner of her mind and he refuses to leave.
It's become increasingly clear that he just doesn't like her, that he just can't. He never outright states it, no, Jaune is far too kind.
But there is absolutely no way he is anywhere near oblivious enough to miss the signals she's been sending!
Nowadays, she couldn't even really speak to him properly, and he just never seemed to notice! Every single time they'd find themselves alone, an impenetrable, awkward silence seemed to invade the room; and he'd just sit there.
Truly, what was she to do? Every time, every time, she'd try and get over him, he'd pull some inexplicable stunt and she'd fall right back in.
It was agonizing; she could see him glancing at her, worried. His blue eyes would scan her, and she could just see him recounting through all his memories, probably wondering what he did wrong.
How was she meant to get over him?
Every glance, every time she'd catch his eyes; it would do nothing but remind her of how he'd been pursuing Weiss.
The talks she'd have to sit through, god.
Utterly agonizing. How was she meant to take it that he trusted her enough to confide how he felt about his crush to her; all the while crushing on him?
…
If anything, she truly wished that one day, Jaune would wake up - that one day, he'd notice, and finally just confess. Or that one day, she'd have the courage to go up to him and just say it.
Please, anyone, how was she meant to get over him?
Why am I such a coward?
Every time he'd find himself in a room with her, he'd choke up and lose all ability to speak. Heck, he hardly had the strength to think, and even then, it was all about her.
Every time he knew she wouldn't be looking, he'd sneak a glance over. How could he not? She was so, so beautiful. Everything from her red hair to her vibrant green eyes; especially the way they'd glow when he'd compliment her.
He loved her, oh so much. But what was he to do? Their status — their positions, in life and in combat were so different. She was a better speaker, a more competent fighter, and a smarter academic than he was. Why, in any universe, would a girl like that go for a guy like him?
How was he meant to confess to her?
One day, he'll have to be brave enough.
But until that day, he'd have to endure this absolute burning pain. This horrible, painful pulsing in his chest; his heartbeat so loud he couldn't even hear himself think.
Just how was he meant to confess to her?
Every time they'd find themselves alone, her eyes would dull, and that would make his chest ache. It would happen more and more, and recently, she'd almost seemed in pain at just being alone with him.
Did she truly hate him so much? Was he such an incompetent leader - such an awkward guy that she could hardly even stand him?
Could she not see how her distaste hurt him? He had to get over her — he had no chance. But…how? The only way he could think of was to confess and get rejected…
But how was a guy like him meant to confess to a girl like her?
Can't he see? Can't he tell? How could he be so oblivious?
She'd given him so many signals; her touch would always linger with him. She was always kinder to him. Her smiles would come more naturally, and she'd offer him her past without a second thought.
Could he not see? Every compliment she'd hang on to. The way she'd let him speak of his comics if only just to hear him talk. She wanted nothing more than to just be around him all day.
She must sound crazy.
She'd - god - she'd help him with his own crush. She'd sit there and listen as he spoke of how beautiful his crush was, how kind she was - all the little things he loved about his crush.
And she knew - though he never spoke the name, she knew - it was all about Weiss. How could she not? Weiss was all he'd talked about their first month, there's no reason for it to be anyone else.
She felt crazy.
Every time she'd listen to him speak, regardless of when and where, she could feel herself falling further and further.
It was as if- as if Cupid walked right through and shot an arrow through her heart.
"Hey, Pyrrha, can we…talk?"
Automatically, her head would turn to him.
There she sat on her bed, staring into the blue of his eyes, waiting for him to speak, to say anything. Just another day, where she fell harder and harder for a man who seemed completely oblivious to her own heart.
It was so utterly terrifying to be so one-sidedly in love.
She must be crazy, to still be so in love.
"Of course, Jaune. What's on your mind?"
"I…wanted to talk to you about the girl I've been telling you about. I think…I think that it's time you find out who it is."
He hated how her eyes dulled even further, and her cheer seemed to evaporate in but a moment. Did she hate him so much that even talking to him was insufferable?
Could he do this?
"Of course, Jaune. I…thank you for the trust you've put in me as a friend."
A friend.
He didn't want her to just be a friend. He just…needed to finally get this off his chest. For so long, he'd been trying to describe her to herself. He'd been telling her about all the lovely things he'd noticed.
He'd told her about how he loved every version of her, both with and without the ponytail. He told her he'd loved the version of her that would greet him with a smile, or that would wake up late, grumpy and moody. He told her he loved the way her face would light when she'd really, truly smile.
He told her how he loved the sound of her laugh, the shape of her ears; he told her how he couldn't find anything that he couldn't love.
He'd all but said the name.
But…it was about time.
Could he truly do this?
"I…god this is nerve-wracking."
She tried for a smile, he could tell. But to him, that smile was fake; he could see the hurt behind her smile.
The hurt…?
Maybe…maybe she liked him too?
Why would she ever go for a guy like you?
God, he was delusional. There was no way, absolutely no way she'd ever like a guy like him.
But, regardless, he had to tell her. He had to let her know, just to get it off his chest, even.
Could Jaune really just tell Pyrrha?
"Take your time, Jaune. I understand it can be quite…difficult to divulge such a thing."
He shifts, turning his body to fully face her - he's sitting on his own bed.
"I…this really shouldn't be as hard as I'm making it, though."
She tries for a smile again, she really, truly does but she just can't. Not when her little hope - that little fire telling her that maybe there was a chance, was on the verge of being extinguished.
Maybe she was just misunderstanding things.
Maybe, maybe he could love her one day.
So many maybe's, and no concrete answers.
This love was driving her insane.
"If it's too hard to tell me her name, how about describing her for me?"
That sentence seemed to help his resolve, as much as it hurt her to say. Looking into his blue eyes, he seemed resolute.
Okay. I've got to prepare. He's going to talk about Weiss, and I can finally be rid of these feelings.
"That's a good idea."
"This girl…she's so pretty. I can hardly fathom we both go to Beacon. Her vibrant green eyes…they're so beautiful that I have to struggle to look away."
His heart was beating in his chest, each palpitation making it harder and harder for him to speak. Every word he spoke seemed to spawn an indescribable pressure on his lungs, and he could feel himself losing the air he needed to speak his feelings.
He had to do this before he ran out of courage.
He was going to do this.
He was going to do this, right. now.
Wait…?
"Her smile always lights up the room, and she's always so against everyone fighting."
Could it be?
"Her beautiful red hair is unlike anything I've ever seen. In a ponytail, it's pretty great but if only you'd see her with her hair down."
This…this is…
"Freshly showered, in some pajamas - her beautiful red hair down, she'd always look so beautiful. And if she was smiling? I think I'd die with no regrets in every one of those moments."
"J-Jaune…?"
"I'm telling you; she's so perfect. She has so many different smiles, but the best is the one she wears when most happy. Just like she is, right now."
Is she…? She hadn't even noticed her smile.
"I think…that, of everything amazing about her, I've fallen most deeply in love with her heart."
"I…!"
"And I would be honored if…if maybe she wanted to go on a date with me this Saturday?"
The smile that lights up her face is unlike any before; and for once, her eyes are shining.
"I'd love to!"
The smile on his face is no less bright.
Saturday marked the first of their long, happy life together.
What possessed me to write this, only god knows. I just got to writing at 1:23 AM on a random Tuesday.