The house was unusually quiet—for once.
Sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains in the kitchen, painting golden rectangles across the floor. The smell of something warm and sweet filled the air, curling through the halls and luring even the deepest sleepers from their beds.
Weiss Schnee stood at the stove, a spatula in one hand, brow furrowed in concentration. She was wearing a pale blue pajama set and a frilly apron that Ruby had bought her as a joke—something with a chibi cat and the words "Whisk It Good." She pretended to hate it, but she still wore it every time she cooked.
Behind her, a groggy voice echoed from the hallway.
"Who the heck is cooking at seven in the morning?"
Yang staggered into the kitchen like a zombie, wrapped in a blanket and blinking like she hadn't seen daylight in a month.
Weiss didn't even look up. "Good morning to you, too."
Yang dropped into a chair with a dramatic sigh. "Tell me there's coffee."
"There's a pot on the counter," Weiss said. "I made it strong. You're welcome."
That got a mumble of thanks, at least.
A few moments later, Ruby shuffled in, yawning, her hair sticking out at weird angles and wearing her old hoodie with a giant cookie on it. Her nose twitched. "Wait. Is that… are you making pancakes?"
"Yes."
"With chocolate chips?"
"No."
Ruby gasped like she'd been personally betrayed.
"I made strawberry ones," Weiss said coolly. "For myself."
"You are the most elegant pancake snob I've ever met," Ruby muttered, slumping into the seat beside her sister.
Weiss rolled her eyes, flipping a pancake. "You're welcome to make your own."
"Too much work…"
Footsteps came from the hallway again, and Jaune Arc appeared, hair sticking up in all directions, hoodie half-zipped, pajama pants slightly wrinkled like he'd slept in a whirlwind.
"Morning," he mumbled, rubbing one eye.
He caught sight of Weiss at the stove and blinked. "Wait. You're cooking?"
She raised an eyebrow. "Don't sound so surprised."
"No, it's just… you always look so professional. Like you'd rather hire a chef than flip pancakes."
"I'm perfectly capable of cooking for myself," she said, primly.
"Hey, I didn't say it was a bad thing," Jaune said, holding up his hands in surrender. "Just… impressive."
She paused at that, just for a second. Then returned to the pancakes, hiding a faint smile.
Nora entered with a shout of, "PAAAAAANCAKES!" and immediately tried to grab one straight off the plate. Weiss slapped her hand away with the spatula.
"Wait your turn."
Ren followed behind her, calm as ever, already sipping his tea. "You're up early, Weiss."
"I thought I'd cook for everyone," she said. "Before Ruby burned the kitchen again."
"That was one time!" Ruby shouted from the table.
"That was three times," Weiss corrected.
Yang laughed into her coffee.
By the time breakfast was ready, the kitchen was fully awake, filled with sleepy chatter, the scrape of chairs, and the occasional syrup spill. Plates were passed around, everyone digging in like they hadn't eaten in days.
Jaune slid into the seat beside Weiss, nudging a plate toward her. "You didn't forget yours, did you?"
She hesitated—just a moment—and then nodded in thanks, taking the plate. "I didn't. But… thank you."
He grinned. "Hey, I can be gentlemanly too."
"You say that like it's a rare occurrence."
"It is," Yang muttered.
"Hey!"
The table dissolved into bickering and laughter, but somehow—maybe by accident, maybe not—Weiss didn't move from her seat beside Jaune.
Later that afternoon
The backyard was surprisingly peaceful. The sun had warmed the flagstone patio, and a soft breeze tugged at the potted plants Weiss had lined up along the garden wall. Most of them were lavender and rosemary, delicate things Ren had helped her choose last week.
She was kneeling in the grass now, watering can in hand, gently tending the smallest lavender sprout with a sort of focus she rarely allowed herself.
"You always look so serious when you garden," came a familiar voice behind her.
Weiss didn't look up. "And you always show up when I least want you to."
"Aw, don't be like that," Jaune said, crouching beside her. He held a mismatched mug that had clearly been repurposed as a watering cup. "I brought backup."
Weiss eyed the mug suspiciously. "That's… not a watering can."
"Technically no," he admitted, "but it holds water, so… I say it counts."
"Of course you do."
He leaned closer to see what she was doing. "So… which one's that?"
"Lavender," she said. "Be gentle. It doesn't need much."
Jaune nodded seriously and attempted to pour a careful amount. Unfortunately, his definition of "careful" was approximately one waterfall too many.
Weiss yelped. "You drowned it!"
"Oh no!" Jaune pulled the mug back in panic. "I thought I was being careful!"
"You are the least delicate person I've ever met."
He winced. "Sorry… Do I get any points for trying?"
Weiss sighed. "Half a point. For effort."
"I'll take it."
They sat in silence for a moment, watching the water slowly soak into the soil. The sun felt nice. The breeze carried the faint smell of rosemary and lemon from the kitchen window.
"You know," Jaune said after a while, "you don't have to do all this stuff alone."
Weiss blinked. "What do you mean?"
"I mean…" He scratched the back of his neck. "You cook breakfast for everyone, you clean up their messes, you take care of the plants. You don't have to. But you still do."
She looked at him, unsure what to say.
"I think it's kind of… nice," he added, smiling. "You've got this whole soft side most people don't get to see."
Weiss looked away, cheeks slightly pink. "Don't make a thing of it."
"I won't," he said, a little too quickly.
They sat for a little longer. He didn't try to tease her again. Just sat beside her, quiet and warm and comfortable.
It was… oddly nice.
Evening came with movie night.
The living room was a fortress of blankets and pillows, fairy lights strung haphazardly along the windows. Nora had already claimed the center of the room, surrounded by snacks. Ren sat beside her, serene as always, a bowl of popcorn in his lap.
Yang and Ruby argued over what to watch.
"Explosions!"
"No, we need something wholesome!"
"Exploding puppies?"
"That's not a genre, Yang!"
Weiss sank into the corner of the couch with a sigh, teacup in hand. She barely had time to settle in before Jaune dropped down beside her, slightly closer than strictly necessary.
She raised an eyebrow. "Don't you have other places to sit?"
"Sure," he said. "But this one's next to you."
Her eyes narrowed. "That's your reasoning?"
"Yep."
"You're impossible."
Jaune just smiled.
And despite everything, despite the noise and the bickering and the chaos of the day… Weiss didn't move away.
In fact, halfway through the movie, she found herself leaning just slightly into his shoulder. Not enough to make a scene. But enough.
He didn't say anything.
Neither did she.
But they both smiled.
To be continued.