I'm back! :D
Writing is hard, life is harder, having crippling insecurity of your own work is even harder!
As always, hope you enjoy the read and will try to update semi-consistently while I figure out how I want to finish my other story which you should totally check out if you haven't. (It's terrible please don't :D)
As always, leave a review if you enjoyed the read or have any constructive criticisms whatsoever. I'm trying something new here, so I better see all the constructive criticism possible hehehehe. (but also leave a nice review because i have crippling insecurities :'D)
Chapter I
Cold winter nights are always hit or miss. In the wrong setting, you could find yourself freezing with no chance for respite. Or perhaps all too alone with no one to share a warm glass of hot chocolate. Here, however, Jaune was perfectly content. It was this night, in fact, that he spent this time with many of the people he had grown to call his greatest friends. Beside him, Ruby Rose hung spooky decorations along the walls, or at least what the younger girl could call spooky. Though, he supposed he could hardly call her young these days–-this was their year of graduation and she was coming on twenty in just a few weeks. On the other side, sitting just next to him, was Blake Belladonna. She… well she didn't do much most of the time, and here included she was sat on this comfortable red sofa, slowly flipping through the pages of her latest book. He understood all too well how she enjoyed the company of others without necessarily interacting with them too often throughout the night.
He brushed those thoughts aside, shifting his glance to Pyrrha, or what he could see of her through the doorway that led to the kitchen. She was leaned against a wall by the stove in the room, talking to figures obfuscated by the other side of the wall. Through the voices, he could tell those figures were Nora and Ren—a power couple that could strike fear into the hearts of most men and women. Though he couldn't discern the entire conversation, he caught Pyrrha laughing every now and then, he surmised that it must've been a pleasant one.
This left two people who remained unspoken for, Weiss Schnee and Yang Xiao Long. Well, only partially unspoken for. He knew that they had left to speak with Neptune and Sun about unwanted furniture, a bookshelf that had a perfect little spot to go in the corner of the main room of their dorm. He had offered help, but in the spirit of bonding time they turned him down. It was something he had spent only a few minutes grieving about before getting over himself. That being said, it had now been nearly an hour and still, they hadn't returned. He wouldn't have longed to dwell on it if, as though his very thoughts manifested them, they came barging through the door.
"Are you even lifting?" Yang had grunted, shoving the door open with her back as she gripped the bottom end of the bookshelf with her hands.
"Of course I am! It's heavy!" Weiss huffed, using her arms to sloppily support the weight of the shelf that tipped forward against her. "We should've brought Jaune!"
He blinked once, twice, then chuckled as he watched the soon-to-be disaster unfold.
"I mean, I asked if you-"
"Shut it!" Both Weiss and Yang snapped their gazes to him simultaneously. He pursed his lips, closing his fist as his words were cut off, then shrugging his shoulders.
Moments later he watched as the white-haired princess's grip slipped on the bookshelf and, because of the poor leverage she already had on it, it began to topple directly over her. Had they not already moved so close to Jaune, there might have been a funnier story to tell in a few months closer to a non-descript winter holiday. However, such antics would have to wait, as Jaune shot up to his feet and took the brunt of the falling bookshelf onto his shoulders—saving Weiss not only from a nasty tumble, but also sparing whatever little remained of her dignity in that moment. As he adjusted, getting a better grip on the bookshelf, he motioned Yang to slowly lower it to the floor.
"We can push it the rest of the way." He turned his gaze to Weiss. "You alright there, princess?"
He couldn't fight off the shit-eating grin that curled onto his lips as he stared down at her. She rolled her eyes, brushing off her shoulders before straightening her posture entirely.
"Quite fine." She muttered, not giving him the graces of her eye contact. "In fact, I was entirely in control of the situation, your help was not necessary."
His gaze remained fixed on hers, grin slowly fading to a deadpan stare. She held her frame for more than a moment, two even, before finally she couldn't hold it in anymore. She broke first, bursting out into laughter, and he followed shortly after. It continued for a while, Yang watching semi impatiently as they both recovered from their laughter.
"I'm sure you were." He nudged her shoulder.
"Oh, absolutely." She shrugged, sparing him a brief glance. "Regardless, I suppose your efforts weren't entirely in vain, I could've ripped my nice dress." She gestured down before doing an embellished twirl.
"Mhm, what a tragedy that would be." He rolled his eyes playfully, enjoying her performative antics.
However, he could tell from the slow foot tapping across from him that a certain blonde was growing more impatient by the second. He turned to face her with a shrug, setting his hands on the sides of the bookshelf.
"About time." Yang grimaced under her breath, doing the same.
Slowly, they began to push the shelf gingerly along the floor, being careful not to do any unnecessary damage to the wood beneath them. It was a nice piece of work, intricately crafted with embellishments along the corners, it was clear that a lot of care and attention went into its creation. Why Sun and Neptune were willing to part with such a beauty was beyond him, though he supposed he was more jealous that it was Ruby's team that got to claim ownership over it and not his own. Finally, as they slid it into its resting place, he put his hands on his hips and took a deep breath.
"Phew." He let out an overexaggerated sigh. "Now that I've done all the work, I think I need a beer."
He had hoped to elicit even the slightest of chuckles from the blonde, but she only stared back at him with an unamused gaze. It gave him pause, certainly cause for concern. He then watched as she moved from the corner of the room and plopped down on the red sofa beside Blake, where he had been sitting previously before having to step in to help the two. Weiss had already moved to make conversation with Ruby, which wasn't the biggest surprise considering how obvious their mutual crush was. He didn't linger on it though, having more important matters to tend to, that being Yang Xiao Long. She was ridden with tension, the muscles in her arms—which had been exposed by the surprisingly modest grey tank top she wore—twitching beneath the skin. An attractive quality for sure, her musculature, but hardly the time to mention it for the umpteenth time.
He turned away from her for a moment, moving towards the kitchen. He tuned out Pyrrha's ongoing conversation with Nora and Ren, which was mostly just word vomit from the ginger, something he never quite got used to. He offered only a wave which was returned in kind as he opened the fridge, grabbing two Mad Garden apple ciders from within. He hadn't expected to bring out the alcoholic beverages already, but it was clear Yang was in need of one. Slowly, he sauntered over to the last space open on the couch, just beside the frustrated blonde, taking a seat as he handed her a bottle.
"Oh…" She glanced over to it, offering him a fragile smile as she took the bottle from his hands. "Thanks."
It didn't take a detective to see that she had been overworking herself all day, not to include the days prior. It was the least he could do to offer her a moment of respite… if he hadn't forgotten the bottle opener.
"I forgot the-"
CHK!
His eyes widened slightly as she popped the lid off with her teeth, spitting it out just as fast. His hand snapped upward to catch it before it flew past him.
"Right." He muttered, opening his own on the table in front of him, a slew of scratch marks from where it had been done many times prior. He then set his drink down and shifted his gaze fully to her, she held her own in her hand, but didn't drink. With a sigh and a chuckle, he leaned against her. For a moment, she tensed at his touch, then relaxed into him. Her arm looped around his back, pulling him closer at the shoulder. "You doing alright?" He asked softly, not wanting to upset her further.
"Peachy." Was her response, a word that never seemed to be used for its intended meaning. Then, she took her first swig of the beverage he offered, letting herself relax a little more. "Just back and forth all the time, being student body president for Port and Goodwitch is hard. Then this weekend I've hardly gotten a chance to sit down and relax between moving things, decorating, and helping other students with assignments and combat studies." Just as she spoke, her scroll buzzed in her pocket. Sparing it a quick glance, she groaned. "And now Ivan wants more help working out kinks in his form, why is right foot back so damn hard to understand! He reminds me of you in your first year."
"Then that means he'll get better with time." Another voice spoke, but it wasn't Jaune. This time it was Blake who had chimed in, not shifting her eyes from her book.
Jaune put his hand on her own, pushing her scroll back to the pocket of her black cargos. "She's right. It's six in the evening, you need a break. Deal with him tomorrow, unwind for now."
Yang glanced down to his hand, gentle on her own, then back up to him. She offered him a real smile this time, shifting against him to rest her head on his shoulder. He sat up straight and pulled her a little closer to him, letting her rest. There was a brief moment of silence, and for that moment he felt the tension in her body begin to recede. That was, before Weiss spoke up but moments after.
"Are we ever gonna get the story of how this became a thing?" She gestured to them, Ruby standing just beside her. Just after she had mentioned it, Jaune watched the three in the kitchen flock to them in curiosity as well, even Blake had shifted her gaze from her book to listen in.
"Maybe another time." He sighed, glancing at the woman beside him. "A corny love story is probably the last thing Yang wants to talk about right n-"
"A corny love story is the only thing I want to talk about right now." There was a fire in her eyes, and Jaune knew better than to fight that kind of fire.
"You sure?" He lifted an eyebrow.
"We've been meaning to tell this story for ages, Jaune." She nudged herself against him softly. "It's a good one."
"Yeah, fair enough." He shrugged, turning to face most of the crowd. "You guys should probably pull up some chairs, this is a long one. Do you want to start, or should I?"
"I think you have more exposition." Yang gestured to him. "Floor's all yours."
He nodded, taking a deep breath as Nora dragged chairs from the kitchen for the rest of them, everyone sitting eagerly as he began to speak.
"Well, it was fixing to rain that day…" He started, setting the scene with a gesture of his arms—well, as best as he could given that one of those arms was looped around his girlfriend.
Jaune hurriedly thumbed through a few books in Vale's library, it wasn't too long ago that he got a text from Blake asking him to pick up the next three installments in the series she'd been reading. It shouldn't have been a hassle, given that he was already in Vale and Beacon didn't have what she was looking for. So why was it that he found himself rushing through the fiction section of this library to find some books by some doofus named Rupert Henley? Well, quite simply, he was trying to beat the oncoming storm. Finally running his fingers across a book titled Beyond the Veil and its next two installments that he was able to locate, he shoved them in his satchel and rushed to the front counter.
"Hey there, Jaune." The brunette librarian, Maia, gave him a wave. He was close to being a regular here, so it was no surprise she ended up remembering his name after the first ten visits, especially with a name as simple as his own.
"Hey." He spoke straightforwardly, laying the books out from his satchel. "I'm looking to check these out and get back to the school before this storm picks up, sorry if I don't have as much time to chat."
She chuckled.
"That's more than okay, but you're a bit late if you're looking to beat the storm." She gestured to the window, his eyes widening as he glanced outside to see that the rain had already begun to pick up, and it picked up fast.
"Shit." He muttered under his breath.
To say it was 'rainy' was to put it lightly, droplets of water smashed against the roads, a torrential downpour in the heart of Vale. Luckily for Jaune, the library he resided in was adequate to shield him from the rain outside. As for getting back to Beacon? The necessary transport never operated at times like these, airships to and from were closed off and no railways would take him straight back to the school. He groaned, scanning his brain for ideas. He could walk back, but that would take hours and by the time he got back he might actually just walk off the cliffside overlooking the forest. Someone could be generous enough to offer him a ride far enough that the walk would be much less, but he wasn't really digging the idea of hitchhiking. Which left one viable option… wait it out.
But who was even to say how long that could take. An hour? Two? More? Regardless, he'd have to bite the bullet. He slid his scroll from his pocket to send his team and Blake a text that he'd be back late, he was only able to get out one text to her before he was staring at a symbol that indicated he had no signal to reach them. Again, he groaned. Why must life be so difficult at times?
"Well, get comfortable." Maia chuckled, shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly. "I'll pour you some tea or something, weather reports are already saying this storm is gonna last until tonight, eight or so hours before it lets up. Vale's lucky to have such good infrastructure against storms like these."
Jaune's face fell and, for a moment, he actually considered just walking back and dealing with the repercussions after he had a bed to lay down in. Eight hours? Eight god damned hours? He didn't know storms could even last that long, whatever gods above that had condemned him to this fate were clearly playing a sick joke on him. Walking back was tempting, but he wrote the thought off, not too fond of the idea of having to shake off being struck by lightning or being thrown off the mountain by strong winds on the hike back to Beacon. So, he pulled up a chair and sat down in utter defeat. Maia's tea helped soothe the nerves, but as an hour passed and then the next, his boredom only grew. So much to the point that he had started reading through the books he'd checked out for Blake. He only made it halfway through the first, which was the seventh installment in the series, needless to say he was very lost as to what was going on. Not to mention the romance subplots were all over the place and it kind of just felt like softcore smut. To each their own, he supposed. Only two hours had passed by the time he broke, standing up from his chair.
"Maia." He spoke her name, getting her attention. She glanced over to him from across the table, pulling her attention away from a biography she was reading. "I'm walking back. Don't try to stop me."
"Your prerogative, dude." She turned back to her book, flipping the page.
Welp. He was hoping she would say something to knock him out of it, but she didn't, and alas here he was. With a final sigh, he tucked the three books neatly into his satchel and pinched dry fire dust over the covers, hoping to try and keep them dry.
"Wish me luck." He walked towards the door, waving goodbye without turning to face her. Then, he stepped outside.
It was pretty much as bad as he expected. Strong winds threatened to knock him over, pellets of rain felt like bullets on his head, chest, and shoulder, and he had to fight the winds to make any progress back to Beacon. Headstrong was one of his best and worst qualities, however, and he pushed through. He was making awful time, after an hour of walking he cleared only half the distance he expected, but sunk cost fallacy explicitly dictated that it was far too late for him to turn back now. So he trudged forwards, his hair drenched and falling against his shoulders, his entire body soaked from head to toe. A miserable experience was to say the least, he was already regretting every one of his decisions. Why in the world would he leave a heated library to nothing else but his own impatience? Now, he was just cold, shivering, with nothing but his aura to protect him from the elements. It wasn't doing the best job, but it was better than nothing.
Then, there it was. Like a shining light, actually, quite literally a shining light. Headlights, that was. Headlights to a motorcycle speeding down the road against the winds. His eyes widened as he caught a glimpse through the downpour, he'd recognize that golden motorcycle anywhere, Bumblebee. He genuinely thought he was hallucinating at this point, right up until Yang pulled up beside him. It was just like her to be driving without her helmet in a storm like this—but he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth.
"Yang?" He spoke, keeping his head low to keep the rain out of his mouth.
"That's me." She looked him up and down, using her leg as a stop for her bike. She too was completely drenched, staring at him with a stern glare. "Get on before you freeze to death."
He nodded, slowly sitting behind her. He sighed in relief as she revved the engines, slowly moving back into the road.
"Thank you." He spoke just loud enough for her to hear over the rain.
"Mhm." She began to move faster. "You're gonna wanna hold on."
His eyes widened as he felt inertia acting upon him, pushing him back. He had put some distance between them so as to not make her or himself too uncomfortable, but as he struggled more and more, he leaned forward until he was pretty much entirely pressed against her back with his arms wrapped around her waist. She didn't make much of it, but his heart was thumping from the warmth she gave off. She was steaming. Not metaphorically or figuratively either, she was literally steaming. She was using a fair bit of her semblance to give off heat and keep him warm, the water from the rain evaporating from her clothes, causing thin plumes of water vapor to rise from her body. Though he wouldn't actualize this until much later, the warmth and respite she gave in a moment like this had him never wanting to let go.
Author's note!
I've always wanted to try to write a story within a story, but I've always wondered how to go about it. In my brain, it feels like I need to only tell what Jaune would tell to the rest of them. It was recently that I realized that as the narrator I can give more insight into what actually happened, even if Jaune who is technically the narrator wouldn't get into all of the details. It's a fun balance to maintain, I'm enjoying it. This story will probably be three or four chapters, kind of just meant to be an extended oneshot. Hope you enjoy! :D