The clock inched closer to five o'clock, Blake's knee jittered faster, and she changed her mind yet again. She should go to the gym and then home like usual. There was no point in getting her hopes up or in re-opening old wounds. Even if she miraculously stumbled into Yang, any contact with someone from her previous life was expressly forbidden. Besides, Yang probably wouldn't want to talk - a reality that would only further break Blake's heart. It was better to leave everything as it was.
The clock ticked forward another minute, catching her gaze for a brief second before she stared at the sea of numbers on her screen.
On the other hand…a year had passed. No one, least of all Adam or the White Fang, had made any attempt to find her. If anything, every passing day suggested that she had been left here to wither away in obscurity. She might not be in prison, but she had been erased from society. Would it really matter if Yang or one of the other Vale P.D. officers learned her location? No one seemed to care.
She could just swing by The Cactus Club. Neptune mentioned that SWAT had come, too. Maybe Ruby was here.
…Ruby might have even less desire to see Blake considering what Blake did to her sister, but Blake could at least catch a glimpse of the people who used to feature so prominently in her life. She could confirm that they were doing well without her. That they'd moved on and were happy in their Blake-free lives.
She couldn't stroll past The Cactus Club without a plan, but every time she tried coming up with one her mind zeroed in on the possibility of seeing Yang and erased everything else. Rather than sleep the night before, she spent hours staring at her bedroom ceiling, running through scenario after scenario.
The last time she put so much thought into a strategy, the White Fang used her hard work to rob Vale Credit Union. Unlike those days, however, no intricate strategy cemented in her mind. She imagined plenty of possibilities - bumping into Yang, talking to Yang - but everything felt…out of her control, like grasping at phantom straws.
She should leave it alone.
But what was the harm in trying?
In the worst-case scenario, she ran into Sun and Neptune, who asked what she was doing there when she specifically asked what area to avoid. Actually, in the very worst scenario, she ran into Yang, but Yang was with another woman - a girlfriend or, even worse, a fiancee - and Weiss was there. Not only would seeing Yang with someone else break the remainder of Blake's heart, but Weiss might literally kill her. And Weiss would get away with it. Expensive, high-powered attorneys would argue that she acted in self-defense, and a jury would likely agree.
The chances seemed slim, but Blake couldn't decide if they were slim enough to be written off or still required a solution, and what that solution might be.
The longer the solution eluded her, the more she gave up trying to plan at all. She used to be one of the best at what she did. Drawing up contingencies, backup plans…all part of the mental gymnastics required to defeat sophisticated security systems and advanced vaults. But these days, it felt like that part of her mind had abandoned her. She felt helpless without a solid plan, but if Yang was here…Blake had to see her.
A hand waved in front of her face, dragging her attention to the two girls crowding around her desk. "You ok?" Hailey asked as Blake's eyes flitted to the time. "Looks like you drank way too much coffee."
"Yeah, I'm fine." The clock reached five o'clock, so she grabbed her bag and stood up. "I have to go though. See you Monday."
"You're skipping Doreen's 'Funfest?'"
"Unfortunately. Tell her sorry I couldn't make it."
They shared a stunned expression, but Blake left them to gossip about her odd departure. They would have a lot of questions for her on Monday, but she was more concerned with beating the evening rush out of the building and making it onto the first train to her apartment.
The one thing she had managed to painstakingly assemble in the middle of the night was the perfect outfit. Her entire wardrobe had been searched for something eye-catching but not desperate. A lightweight, sleeveless blouse in soft purple, a pair of high-waisted black shorts, and her favorite pair of sandals made the cut, along with silver earrings that caught the light as they dangled from her ears. Appearance polished but mind frazzled, she grabbed her black handbag and tapped her fingers against it.
"Think, Blake," she quietly prodded herself. She was dressed to see Yang. She wanted to see Yang. But what if they weren't there yet? Would she have to walk past the bar multiple times? What if someone noticed and called her out for the strange behavior?
"God. Why don't you just call and ask?" she said out loud, grabbing her phone and calling The Cactus Club. After two rings, someone answered.
"Cactus Club. How can I help?"
"Uh, hi." The background music and voices were enough to raise Blake's pulse. "I'm, uh, supposed to meet some friends there tonight. They're with the department. Any chance they're already there?"
Blake cringed at the ill-prepared response, but the woman on the other end of the line didn't hesitate.
"Probably. We've got a big group of 'em here though. Need me to call for someone specific?"
"Oh, no, that's fine. That's probably them. Thank you."
"No problem."
The woman hung up quickly, leaving Blake to put away her phone and take a deep breath.
She had to go. She had to know. Her pulse crept higher as she hurried to the train station, but she reminded herself that, compared to her previous jobs with the White Fang, the repercussions of failure were practically nonexistent. Her heart might suffer, but she would return to her empty, quiet apartment the same as every other day.
A frown tugged at her lips as she slipped onto the train and found a seat near the door. She didn't miss the stress and guilt that came with being in the White Fang, but she missed the strategy, the chance to use her skills, and the sense of accomplishing something great.
'Something great' turned out to be 'something awful' in Adam's manipulative grasp, but he wasn't part of her life anymore. She shook him from her thoughts as she departed the train at one of Vacuo's livelier stations. The area catered to tourists, who were out in force on a pleasant Friday night. The crowd on the platform jostled her, but she clutched her bag close and made her way to the wide sidewalks bordering all manner of restaurants, bars, and nightclubs.
The Cactus Club was on her side of the street, several blocks ahead, but she still scanned every person she passed. Her heart jumped at each flash of blonde, or even slightly blonde, hair, only to crash when it wasn't the right shade of blonde.
Only after gathering her bearings did she come up with the perfect alibi. A family-owned restaurant several blocks past The Cactus Club served a delicious grilled salmon dinner. If anyone asked, she was headed there. It would be her reward for surviving an entire year of dull weeks. Passing The Cactus Club thus became merely a coincidence of location.
Merely a coincidence…yet her steps slowed to an uncomfortable crawl as she neared the bar. The patio was already packed and rowdy. She didn't recognize anyone but fixed her gaze on the stoplight ahead as she drew nearer. Using her peripheral vision, she scanned every single person on the patio as she walked by.
She could only pass the restaurant so many times before looking suspicious, so she had to make the most of it. Just a stroll. No dawdling, no staring. Steps calm and measured like someone whose destination was further away.
That was the plan until radiant blonde hair caught her eye.
Her heart reacted instinctively, doubling in speed as her feet subconsciously stopped and all other thoughts disappeared from her mind.
There, amidst the crowd of people drinking and talking on The Cactus Club's patio, stood Yang.
Yang had dressed for a night out, and she looked stunning. A gold, form-fitting halter top showed off her tan, enviable physique and the black and yellow prosthetic that started just below her right shoulder. Deep brown shorts revealed enticing thighs. Dark brown boots added an inch to her already tantalizing height, making her stand out amongst the crowd of officers.
She held a half-empty glass in one hand while listening to the young man in front of her, her lilac eyes blessing him with that patient, thoughtful consideration that Blake had always loved. He had her attention and focus…until suddenly he didn't.
Her gaze had flitted to the sidewalk for only a second, likely nothing more than an instinct to remain aware of her surroundings. Her eyes even swept over Blake at first, frozen like a deer in headlights as she was, before snapping back and widening.
Time stood still. Their gazes locked tighter than a steel vault while thoughts and emotions overloaded Blake's mind. She had imagined this moment so many times. What she would say. What Yang would say. What their first few minutes would be like when they finally reunited.
Then Yang said something to the officer with her, set her glass down, and hurried into the restaurant.
Something snapped in Blake. Suddenly, there was no plan. Not even a semblance of a plan. There was only Yang.
Blake's legs carried her into the bar without a second thought, diving into a loud, dark, packed party. Strobe lights flashed on the dance floor, where a mass of bodies twisted and turned in disjointed rhythm. The line at the bar was four people deep with three bartenders trying to keep up with orders.
The crowd swallowed Yang easily, making Blake stand on her tiptoes searching for a glimpse of blonde. Fortunately, Yang's height made her easy to find as she wove through the ruckus toward the back door. Blake had less luck weaving through, earning a few elbows and disgruntled, "Hey!"s despite saying, "Excuse me," over and over. She caught a glimpse of Sun and Neptune - the two officers taking shots near the pool tables - before reaching the restrooms.
The back door shut just as she made it through the crowd, so she flew down the hallway, through the doorway, and into the alleyway outside. She didn't even have time to look around before yelping when someone grabbed her arm and pulled her off to the side.
"What part of witness protection don't you understand?" Yang whispered, her gaze darting around the empty alley. She was upset - mad, even - but Blake's breath caught in her throat.
A year apart contracted to seconds as Blake's feelings returned like a tornado touching down. The warmth of Yang's hand around her wrist confirmed that this was real. Yang was actually here, staring down at her, yet all she could do was reach up, wishing to brush her fingers through Yang's hair, only to drop her hand back to her side. Yang noticed the aborted motion and promptly released Blake's arm.
"No one's supposed to know where you are," she added more forcefully. "And you aren't supposed to give away your location. If Witness Security knows I saw you, they'll move you."
That broke Blake free of her daze, reminding her that their separation was never her choice nor her desire.
"Then let them move me. I won't miss it here."
Yang stared for a moment before shaking her head.
"This is for your own good -"
"Is it?"
When Yang frowned, Blake inched closer, aching to close the chasm between them. Yang stepped back, opening the void and painfully reminding Blake of everything she lost.
"Why can't you just follow the rules, Blake?"
"What do you think I've been doing?" she asked, exasperation leaking into her tone. "That's all I've done, Yang. Every day for a year. Then I see you and I'm supposed to, what, just walk away?"
"That's exactly what you should do -"
"How could I do that? You're -" Blake motioned both hands to Yang before giving up on finding the right words.
She was Yang, and she was standing right here. For all of Blake's preparation - an entire night spent imagining this possibility on top of countless daydreams over the last year - she felt woefully unprepared for the magnitude of the moment. They were close enough to touch, and her heart craved a hug, a kiss, any hint of what they once had.
Yang, however, huffed.
"Well, whatever. You should get out of here before you get in trouble."
The finality in that statement made Blake panic when Yang turned to leave. The pressure never used to affect her. She could be in a vault with thirty seconds until the police arrived yet not break a sweat. But she never cared about the money like how she cared about Yang.
"Wait." She grabbed Yang's elbow, drawing that lilac gaze back to her. "Have dinner with me. Please? For old time's sake."
It felt like her last chance, and she thought that Yang would say no. Yang looked like she wanted to say no. She looked like she wanted to say no for a very long time, but then a soft scoff slipped through her lips.
"They'll move you."
"I don't care," Blake insisted. "I'll pack my things tonight if I have to."
"Why, Blake?" Yang sighed. "Is it really worth it?"
"Of course it is. How can you even ask that?"
Hurt seeped into Blake's tone despite the rhetorical question. Yang worked her jaw back and forth, her eyes thoughtful and conflicted, before sighing and saying, "Sure. For old time's sake."
Blake couldn't remember the last time her smile felt so genuine. She beamed at what, on the surface, felt like a tiny step towards reconciliation.
"I know a place nearby."
She motioned towards the restaurant she had 'planned' on visiting, so Yang stuck both hands into her pockets and let Blake lead the way. They walked in silence that was a blessing in disguise, giving Blake the short opportunity to collect herself despite Yang's presence swarming her senses. The citrus scent of her shampoo. The glisten of her skin under the streetlights. The sheen of that metal arm left bare for all to see. A small, round scar lurking on her left shoulder, just above her heart.
Yang's neutral expression masked her emotions, and she trained her gaze on the ground so that Blake couldn't read her eyes. She was probably regretting her decision and contemplating how to back out, or maybe she was also thinking how strange it was to suddenly be in each other's company after so long apart.
Thankfully, they reached the restaurant before Yang balked. Azure Bistro had a modern facade with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a clear view of the bustling restaurant inside. The cozy patio was already filled with couples and families enjoying a bite to eat with well-dressed wait staff flitting between tables.
"Pretty busy," Yang remarked after a waiter held the door for them to enter a small yet packed waiting area. The restaurant was as busy as Blake had expected on a Friday night, but she took a quiet, steadying breath and motioned for Yang to wait near a potted tree by the door before continuing to the host.
"Good evening. How many?" he greeted her, barely looking up from the seat map in front of him.
"Two."
"Name?"
"Uh, Claire."
He didn't acknowledge the hesitation. He wrote down her name and flashed a smile.
"We'll call when your table's ready."
He immediately went back to work, so she returned to Yang and said, "It should just be a bit."
Yang nodded but said nothing, leaving them in silence while surrounded by the buzz of conversation. Blake shuffled her feet and cleared her throat several times but couldn't spit out any of the questions or comments she'd imagined saying. Everything stuck like concrete in her throat, refusing to budge just like Yang refused to make eye contact. This was when a plan would have come in handy - or even just a guideline of things to say - but everything failed her in one fell swoop.
"Claire?"
Blake's attention belatedly turned to the waiter holding two menus, which he used to beckon her after him. She followed, and now she felt Yang's eyes on her, boring into her back as they navigated through the tables to a small, intimate booth in the corner of the restaurant.
"I'll be right back to get your drink order," he said before leaving them with their menus. The silence crept back in, settling over the table like a cloud until Yang cleared her throat.
"'Claire?'" she asked, then nodded once Blake did. "It's nice. Not as good as Blake, but nice."
The subtle compliment struck Blake's heart like an arrow, but Yang followed it up by opening her menu and staring at the selections.
"Please don't call me Claire," Blake requested. Yang's gaze finally flitted to her.
"I wasn't planning on it."
Blake smiled, relieved, but Yang went back to studying the menu as if there might be an exam. Blake had expected some coldness, or even hostility, so willingly gave Yang time and space to acclimate. She opened her menu and pretended to consider her options even though she knew what she wanted. She spotted something that Yang might like, too, then spent the rest of her time sneaking glances across the table, wondering what was going through Yang's mind and what it would take to get her to warm up.
"That grilled salmon has your name on it," Yang eventually said, pointing at the listing in the middle of the page.
"You know me."
Blake's smile fell when sadness flashed through Yang's eyes. Yang hid the emotion by looking down but eventually cleared her throat.
"Maybe I'll get that, too. Then you can take the leftovers."
"Are you sure? There's risotto on the specials menu."
"Risotto?" Yang looked at the specials menu and then, miraculously, smiled. "Well, I can't say no to that."
That smile, though half-powered at best, meant everything. Vastly encouraged, Blake summoned the nerve to attempt an actual conversation. Their waiter interrupted first but, once he jotted down their orders, he left them with no menus or other means of distraction. Yang stared at her silverware instead, straightening the forks before switching their positions with her dexterous metal fingers.
"How have you been?" Blake asked, hoping the mundane question would get Yang talking.
"Good, I guess. I'm back on patrol. They demoted me after…everything."
"I heard. Or read, at least. I'm sorry."
"It's whatever." Even though Yang shrugged, Blake knew it bothered her more than she would ever admit. "My suspension's over, so technically I can be re-promoted any time. But Fowler's never gonna let that happen."
"Then she shouldn't be Chief of Police. You're an incredible detective."
"Present company suggests otherwise."
Blake winced but held her tongue. She didn't want to reopen those wounds right now. She just wanted to experience some semblance of what they used to have. They couldn't do that with Yang pointing out all the ways Blake had duped her into a real/fake relationship.
"How's Ruby?" Blake asked instead, and Yang's shoulders subtly relaxed.
"She's great. They've got her running her own team already. Kicking butt and taking names."
"I'm sure Weiss is thrilled about her being in harm's way more often."
"Oh, yeah." Yang laughed, but it was closer to a scoff than the infectious laughter Blake loved. "She hates it, but she'll support Ruby through anything. And Ruby's promotion coincided with an enormous donation being made to the SWAT teams. They got all new equipment and armor."
"Subtle."
"Weiss is anything but subtle," Yang replied, this time with a softer laugh.
"I was more afraid I'd get a visit from one of her dad's 'associates' than anyone from the White Fang," Blake admitted. Her chuckle, however, died when Yang grimaced and flipped her forks over top of each other again. "Was she going to do that?" she asked more seriously. Yang grimaced again.
"It's hard to tell when she's serious, you know. Some of the stuff she says…if she wasn't my sister-in-law, I'd arrest her just to make her take a timeout." Yang attempted a lackluster chuckle and was saved by their waiter returning with their food.
"Truffle risotto and a grilled salmon," he announced while setting plates in front of them. "Let me know if you need anything else."
"Thank you," Blake said as he went to check on his other tables. She glanced at Yang, who had already started eating, before doing the same.
They ate quietly for several moments - a stark contrast to the lively diners surrounding them - but Blake's thoughts were loud and pressing. Part of her wanted to know what kind of threats Weiss made, but another part of her knew better than to pull at that thread. Considering Weiss' upbringing and penchant for saying whatever crossed her mind, she had probably come up with some creative ways to ensure Blake's painful demise.
"How have you been though?" Yang asked, drawing Blake out of her imagination. "Have you been seeing anyone, or…?"
"No." Of course not, she thought, recoiling from the suggestion but thinking better of saying that so vehemently out loud. "It just…hasn't felt right. What about you?"
"I've been on a few dates here and there."
"Oh. That's…great."
"It's nothing serious." Yang shifted in her seat as if she knew the disclosure had caused near-physical harm. "Ruby only knows the same people I do and Weiss starts every suggestion with "I don't like her, but maybe you will.' Guess that's not what I'm looking for."
"What are you looking for?" Blake asked, only to lose the air in her lungs when Yang stared right at her.
"I don't know," Yang eventually answered, adding another knife to the growing collection lodged in Blake's heart. "I used to think I did, but…that didn't work out. Life's funny like that."
"Yeah…it is." It wasn't funny - it was tragic and painful. But Blake rubbed her aching heart before adding a more hopeful, "Well, I'm sure you'll figure it out."
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm sure you will, too."
They drifted into silence, Blake's heart protesting the topic while Yang sighed and pushed her food around her plate. Even the salmon, which on any other day was worthy of celebration, tasted like cardboard when Blake mindlessly chewed and swallowed.
Eventually, Yang cleared her throat and briefly gestured to Blake.
"You look good though."
"Oh. Thanks. I've been going to the gym more."
"It shows. I mean, not that you weren't in great shape before. But now…" Yang's gaze swept over Blake, making Blake's skin tingle, before dropping to her plate. The compliment died there. "And you cut your hair," Yang added, prompting Blake to run a hand through her shoulder-length locks.
"They made me. Part of the whole 'new identity' thing."
"Oh." The silence veered towards awkwardness. "Well, it works," Yang added. "I almost didn't recognize you. But it looks good. Really -" She abruptly stopped and coughed into one hand, her cheeks reddening. "It looks good."
Blake wanted to hear the end of that compliment more than she wanted her next breath, but she lacked the confidence to pry. At least she was no longer on the fence about her new hairstyle. With Yang's approval, she officially loved it.
"You look great, too." Blake's gaze slid from Yang's perfect lips down her chest, then traveled down those dueling arms. "I'm, uh, a little surprised by the shirt." She motioned to the gold halter top revealing the extent of Yang's prosthetic.
"Ah, yeah. I'm trying to 'stop being so melodramatic about it,' as Weiss put it." Yang curled her metal fingers into a fist and chuckled lightly. "I guess I just…want people to accept me for me."
Blake bit her lip, knowing that she couldn't say how incredible Yang was and how worthy she was of love. Instead, Blake gently smiled and said, "I'm glad to hear that. You look great though. Very…fit."
"Thanks. Ruby was right that I got soft sitting at a desk." Yang chuckled and flexed her arm, showing off some envious muscles. "Chasing pickpockets is a good workout."
"You were never soft before," Blake pointed out. "And I think I'd know."
Yang's eyes flashed with something that finally wasn't sadness, but the emotion was gone too fast for Blake to determine what it was. And Yang again turned away, hiding her gaze until she'd recovered enough to re-engage.
"How're things here? Your new job and life and all that."
"Do you want the truth?" Blake asked only for Yang to stare her straight in the eyes.
"I always want the truth, Blake."
Another knife, this one more jagged than the others, pierced her heart, but she swallowed a lump of emotion and nodded.
"It's been miserable. The job they got me is mind-numbingly boring, my coworkers gossip all the time, and I miss Vale. I miss -" She gestured to Yang but didn't dare voice that thought out loud. Instead, she huffed and added, "Honestly, prison would've been better."
"Not when Adam pays someone locked in with you to take you out."
"I'm decent in a fight, remember?"
"Practicing in a gym is one thing. Fighting for your life is another."
A counter-argument flitted to the tip of Blake's tongue, but she swallowed it in favor of keeping the peace. They used to playfully banter all the time, but bringing up Adam seemed to have struck a nerve.
"Are there any leads?" she asked softly, but her hopes disappeared when Yang slouched in her chair.
"Not that I know of…" she mumbled, pushing her remaining food around her plate. "But they don't exactly keep me in the loop anymore. Which is a little frustrating since it's my case -" She paused and shook her head. "Blaze and Proud sent me updates at first, but I haven't heard anything in months. It's like they all just disappeared."
"I see." Blake fiddled with her napkin, finding it all too easy to forget the White Fang in favor of the much more important heartache sitting across from her. "Yang, I…I know you probably don't want to hear this, but I'm sorry. I don't think I can ever say it enough, but -" Tears suddenly stinging her eyes, she stopped and took a deep breath. "But I'm really, really sorry. You didn't deserve it - any of it."
Conflict returned to Yang's eyes, but she didn't shoot down the apology. She dwelled on it for the longest time before forcing an easygoing smile.
"Hey, it's no problem. That's all in the past, right? We've moved on."
"I haven't." Yang froze, but Blake sniffled and attempted a weak smile. "That's the only reason I'm here - trying to make it up to you somehow. If you think of anything else I can do, please tell me. I'll do anything for you."
Blake meant the words as fully as one could, yet Yang opened her mouth only to be interrupted when their waiter cleared away their plates. Whatever she considered saying disappeared, and she retreated into her shell until the check arrived and they briefly argued over who paid. Blake won that argument because she was faster and pointed out that she invited Yang - logic that Yang had used on her more than once in the past.
Unfortunately, any hope of catching up for hours fell by the wayside when their waiter returned the receipt in record time. With the restaurant still buzzing along at full capacity, he clearly wanted to welcome new guests, and Yang fidgeted the longer they lingered. So, despite her reservations, Blake motioned to the exit.
"Shall we?"
She needn't have bothered asking since Yang was already halfway out of her chair. With the end of the night approaching and her options to continue it guaranteed to fail, her feet dragged on their way outside. As soon as they reached the sidewalk, she clasped her hands together and desperately searched for a way to turn this around.
"When do you go back to Vale?"
"Tomorrow." Blake nodded and bit her bottom lip. "Which means I should probably turn in," Yang added, breaking Blake's heart a little more. Their inevitable separation had arrived, but Yang looked at Blake, then down at her hands, before finally nodding to the street. "I'll walk you home?"
A smile swept onto Blake's lips as relief flooded through her veins.
"That would be nice."
Yang bobbed her head before following Blake away from the restaurant.
Glynda had drilled it into Blake's head that it was against the rules to speak to people from her past, and especially forbidden to show them where she lived, but she didn't care about the rules right now. All that mattered was extending this night for as long as possible. Even as a strained silence settled over them - a far cry from the endless conversation they once shared - she was too happy to be in Yang's company to follow any rule.
They could have taken a short train ride to her apartment, but she led them on foot instead. The brisk desert cold had arrived now that the sun had set, made all the worse whenever the breeze kicked up. She hadn't thought to wear layers - a lapse in planning that bothered her more than her goosebumps. When she wrapped arms around herself though, Yang glanced over.
"Sorry. I should've brought a jacket or something," Yang said, her own hands shoved deep in her pockets.
"It's ok. I'm mostly used to it by now."
Yang nodded but her brow remained furrowed as if she was disappointed that she couldn't offer Blake a jacket. Blake, on the other hand, would walk a thousand miles in the cold for the mere suggestion that Yang wanted to keep her warm.
With her hands so firmly in her pockets though, Yang obviously didn't want to risk brushing arms as they walked. If only she did…because Blake's skin craved her touch.
There was so much Blake wanted to say, but she didn't know if she could or even should. Yang was here with her, and that meant something. Yang agreed to dinner even though it was against the rules. Yang didn't yell or tell Blake off for what happened. Instead, she was pensive, possibly still shocked that this was happening at all. She didn't have the benefit of a day's worth of anticipation like Blake did, even though that time still felt woefully inadequate.
In very few scenarios did Blake imagine Yang walking her back to her apartment, and in none of those did she flounder for safe topics like a diver desperate for oxygen. She was so out of her depth that she considered taking a roundabout way home, but Yang wouldn't fall for such a ruse. So, despite their slow pace, the blocks steadily disappeared underfoot. They soon reached quaint neighborhoods that were winding down for the night, and finally arrived at a modest brick apartment building nestled in the middle of the street.
"This is it."
Blake motioned to the building and, worried that pausing would convince Yang to share their goodbyes on the street, hurried through the front door. Yang trailed behind her, eyes scanning the entryway, the stairwell, and the hallway leading to Blake's door. Blake's keys practically leaped into her hand, then into the lock, before opening the door to her apartment.
"Here we are…"
While Blake turned on the lights, Yang took a few steps into the living room and stopped. She looked at everything, her eyes slowly moving from one corner of the room to the next. The generic furnishings provided by Witness Security. The curtains drawn over two small windows to keep out the daytime sun. The desk with Blake's laptop and unrecycled copies of The Vale Tribune. A television with a few movies sitting beside it. Finally, a bookcase filled with novels spanning every genre.
"It's…cozy," Yang concluded.
"I think you mean basic."
Yang hummed, her gaze lingering on the bookcase before returning to Blake. "You could spruce it up though. Maybe put up some art or something."
"I could, but that would mean…" Blake looked around the apartment and sighed. "But that would mean this is my home…" she admitted quietly.
Yang's eyes filled with sympathy. She even raised her arm as if she might reach out, but she dropped it and curled her fingers into fists at her side.
"I guess that's…that's your call." Yang briefly closed her eyes and gave a miniscule shake of her head. "I should probably go though. Since you're safe and sound and all."
"Right." Blake bit her lip and nodded, though her gaze lingered on the floor before an idea sparked in her mind. "Hold on." Before Yang could ask why, Blake hurried to her bedroom. One frenzied search later, she returned with a dark purple sweatshirt in hand. "Since it's cold," she explained, offering it to Yang. "And you can keep it," she added before Yang worried about how to return it.
Despite the reassurance, Yang still hesitated before accepting the sweater. Then, as Blake watched, she lifted it to her nose and breathed in. Blake's heart nearly burst right out of her chest at the unexpected sight, but Yang blushed and dropped her arm to her side as soon as she realized what she had done.
"Um, thanks." Yang cleared her throat and gestured to the door. "I'll just -"
As soon as Yang reached for the handle, Blake grabbed her arm. There was a long pause before she turned back, almost as if she might not turn back at all. But when she did, the emotions in her eyes stole Blake's breath away. She put up a good front, but she was struggling to keep her feelings in check the same as Blake was.
"It was really great seeing you…" Blake whispered, mustering a small smile. "This was…" She briefly closed her eyes and sighed. "This was the best night I've had in a year."
Yang opened her mouth but couldn't seem to form words. She looked down at Blake's hand, still lingering on her arm, before gently wrapping her warm hand around it. The overwhelming tenderness and longing in her touch had Blake's heart racing in no time, suddenly desperate to prove something that couldn't be put into words.
"You don't have to go," she said, her voice soft, on the verge of pleading. The air between them drew taut like a string ready to snap, stopping her breath in anticipation of Yang's response. She watched the battle play out - the part of Yang that wanted to leave silently fighting the Yang who must want to stay.
Then Yang kissed her. A deep, aching kiss that thundered through Blake's veins and unleashed the dam of emotions she'd held at bay. It hurt - she could feel Yang's heartache - yet she wrapped her arms around Yang's neck and pulled her in, accepting the pain while communicating her own misery and apology in return.
As Yang's sturdy, stoic walls finally crumbled, Blake spiraled right along with her. Both of them broken and bruised but crashing back into each other like comets colliding into the same orbit. The fallout could be catastrophic, but consequences or repercussions failed to register in Blake's mind as she melted into Yang instead.