Comforting a Broke Schnee

It's been a long Monday at Beacon, but by 7:00 PM, you're finally finished with all your extracurricular activities. You arrive at your empty dorm, toss your weapon in the closet, and drop onto your bunk with a sigh—when your scroll buzzes at you from your bag. Groaning, you get back to your feet and pull it out; it's a text from Ruby Rose—otherwise know as your girlfriend's best frenemy.

*Hey anon, yang just told me that weiss is lookin grumpy about something but she won't tell her what. heads up in case she drops in on you without warning. I wanted to give her a big hug but she ran off, tell her I'm thinking about her okay?? See you round :))))*

You click your tongue and send back a thank you message. You don't like Ruby acting as an a liaison for your own girlfriend, but it makes sense: after an unexpected visit from Winter last week, Weiss showed up at your dorm at 9:00 PM to talk your ear off for three hours about how great her sister was. That essay you had due for the next day? It got completed—by the time the sun was breaking through the purple clouds of dawn.

Well, never mind. Weiss has proven to be a handful in the month or so since she confessed to you, but there's something about that girl that keeps you coming back. In fact–

Your scroll buzzes again. You smile tiredly to see that it's Weiss—at least she's giving you a hint this time.

*I had a bad day and I need to see you. Respond quickly, please. xx*

You can just imagine Weiss staring at the blunt message for five seconds before tacking on the little "xx," as if to soften it. The thought makes you grin as you type a response.

*Well, I can take a few minutes out of my busy schedule ;) come on over. hope you're okay.*

A few moments later:

*I am NOT joking. >:( But okay, I'll be there.*

Welp. That makes you uneasy.

Fifteen minutes later, you've almost fallen asleep on your desk when there's a sharp knock on your door. Yawning, you prepare yourself and open up.

Okay, you didn't expect this. Weiss' normally impeccable posture is off—she's almost slouching. Her eyes look bloodshot, though her face is clean; you suspect that wiped it off to conceal tears. Your unease is replaced with genuine concern.

"Weiss? Are you okay?"

She breathes in sharply and nods. Then she exhales and shakes her head. She looks like she's frozen in place. You evaluate: is your next move worth the risk of getting slapped?

Yeah, why not.

You move in to embrace the defeated-looking girl. To your relief, she just squeaks, "Anon!" as you feel her arms move stiffly around your waist.

"I'm sorry you're feeling bad. Come in and I'll get you some tea."

"W-well, you don't need to go all out," splutters Weiss, her breath warm on your ear.

"Eh, forget the tea, then."

Weiss lets out an hiccough that might be an attempted laugh. "Oh. No, I'll take some tea. If I must," she says. Then, just as you think that you might be the most efficient boyfriend in Remnant, Weiss sobs and presses her face into your shoulder. Knowing that she'd be embarrassed if anyone saw her, you quickly guide her back into your room and close the door. Her crying gets more intense as soon as the door is shut.

"Uh, are you okay?" you repeat awkwardly.

She pulls away slightly to look you straight on, fierce-eyed and tear-stained. "No, of course I'm not okay, you moron!" She bursts into more tears and you find yourself embracing her again as she stuffs her face into your chest. You're a little shell-shocked; you've barely ever seen Weiss show vulnerability, even since dating her—and suddenly, here she is, hugging the shit out of you and crying. That Weiss is upset makes you angry, of course, but as you stand with her in your arms, you feel a tenderness too, to think that she would be able to cry in front of you. You squeeze her shaking body gratefully; her hair smells lemony.

Eventually, she pulls away, hiccoughing and wiping her face. "I'm sorry," she says. "I shouldn't have lost my composure."

"It's not a problem," you say, trying to smile reassuringly. "Take a seat. I'll get you tea."

She releases you and sits down at the desk while you boil the kettle. Her hands keep returning to her face, wiping self-consciously, and she pulls out a hand mirror from her bag.

"You look fine," you say, fingering the plastic handle of the kettle.

"It doesn't matter what you think," grumbles Weiss, pulling out her hair tie to comb her hair. You can't help thinking that she looks adorable, and easily ignore her remark, chuckling inwardly as you pour the tea.

"Same as usual? Milk, no sugar?"

"Yes."

You place the steaming mug on the desk and give her a rub on the head. "There you go, princess."

"I *told* you not to call me that," she says, but she's smiling.

After she's taken a few moments to sip at the hot beverage and warm her hands, you ask, "So, do you want to talk about it?"

"W-well, I guess I…" Weiss splutters. "Can I just ask you something, Anon?"

"Yeah, of course."

"D-do you think I act…" Weiss looks down into her mug. "Do you think I'm a snob?

You stare at her as she glances shyly back. "Uh," you begin, "well, Weiss, to be honest, you're…that is to say—yes."

Weiss looks somewhere between bemused and angry. "What," she says flatly, flipping her hair off her face.

"I don't mean it in a bad way!" you say hurriedly. "It's kind of your whole schtick. When you confessed to me, you said that I had to make sure I didn't dress badly if I wanted to be seen with you in public. You chase after perfection. I like that about you."

Weiss gives you a hard stare. "I should slap you," she says, taking a dainty sip of tea, "but for some reason, I'm disinclined to do so right now."

You breath a sigh of relief. "So, who called you a snob?"

Biting her lip, Weiss looks away. "Cardin. It's because…I haven't told you this because I was—embarrassed, but my parents, they cut me off around the time Winter visited. Financially, I mean." She pauses, allowing it to sink in. "It's because I won't talk to my dad. Not such a princess now, huh?"

You frown, deciding that now is probably not the time to pry into that. "How did Cardin know?"

"The Winchesters and the Schnees go back some; I guess my parents told his parents and they told him. Anyway, he called me a wannabe and a snob and a broke bum in fr-front of his fr-friends and e-everyone and they l-laughed when they found out I was b-broke…" She's crying again as she trails off.

"Stop," you say firmly. "It's alright; I get the idea. Cardin is a piece of work. If I got my hands on him…"

Weiss shakes her head, her white curtain of hair waving. "Don't. I don't want this escalating anymore."

"I won't."

"You better not." Weiss sighs shakily and rubs her forehead. "I just hate feeling this fragile. People normally walk on glass around me because I'm a Schnee, treat me like royalty, and…" She strokes her small, thin fingers, tears threatening her sombre eyes again. "Am I really so useless without my stupid money? I'm so ashamed and I can't even explain it."

"Hey now." You crouch down a little so you're looking Weiss in the face. "You're not useless."

"What would you know?" she asks bitterly, taking another gulp of tea.

"Maybe not so much when it comes to being an heiress," you say, "but I do know why I accepted your confession. Do you remember?"

Weiss nodded. "You said I was special and you'd never met someone like me. Typical cheesy stuff."

"I wasn't just being cheesy," you say. "It's like I said: you're a snob. Your response to being called a princess is just to try harder to be worthy of the title. And that's why I think you're special. It's like you don't strive because anyone told you to or even because of a feeling. It's like you really believe in perfection, for its own sake, and that's what really made me say yes—not because you're a Schnee, but because you're Weiss, and you want to be the best Weiss you can be. That—impresses me. A girl like that can't be useless."

Weiss sniffles and drinks the last of her tea. "I don't know if I was just insulted or praised, but I feel better."

"Good. Great."

She stands up, putting down the mug. "I'm going to hug you again now," she says woodenly.

"Okay."

Her cool body presses against you once more and you feel the arch of her back bend into your embrace. Her lips clumsily collide with yours and you accept her gratefully. She grunts as her tentative tongue flicks out, and you squeeze her encouragingly. You can feel the tension in her body thaw as you deepen the kiss, emboldening her to push against you more fervently. Your hands move caressingly over the bony protrusions of her back, her little peaks and cliff. Weiss breaks the kiss, blushing hotly, but her grip on you is just as fierce.

"Anon? Can I—stay here for some time?" she asks. "Maybe take a nap?"

You pick up your jaw. "A nap?"

"On your bed. With you."

"With me? Uh, sure."

"No funny business," she mumbles. "Just a nap. I'm serious."

"Of course."

She kicks off her boots—you can't help but notice that the loss of the heels reveals her to cut quite the diminutive figure. She drops onto your bed and curls into the foetal position, facing away from you.

"Well?" she says, still blushing. "C-come join me."

You nod and lie down next to her, wrapping your arms around her waist. She sighs—perhaps approvingly. You breath in that lemon-scented hair again and smile.

"My teammates will be back in a couple of hours," you say. "What if they see us like this?"

"It's okay," whispers Weiss. "I don't have anything to be ashamed of." She shifts closer to you, her shoulders pressing into your chest, and you feel her cold fingers come to rest on your hands. "I'm certainly not ashamed of you." Her body relaxes as she speaks, the hardness of her muscles eroding away so her skin feels like cool water where you touch. "Oh…and thank you, Anon," she murmurs.

You nod drowsily by way of response, already drifting quickly away. It hasn't been the easiest day, but somehow, you ended up somewhere good. As your eyes flick closed and you focus only on the soft, deep breathing of the girl in your arms, you spare one last conscious thought:

Weiss Schnee is definitely a girl you could fall in love with.