Step By Step (ch6)

Oh, angst. I used to like it a lot more than I probably should've.

Disclaimer: I do not own RWBY.

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													Chapter 6. Sorting Feelings

Weiss continued petting through the girl's hair, hushing her, trying to reassure Pyrrha that none of this was her fault. She'd saved Weiss' life, never once endangered it, and Weiss was torn between letting her cry and let it all out, or calming her down.

It took a lot to make Weiss Schnee freeze up, but Pyrrha had accomplished the impossible many times with her before, and now was no different.

She didn't believe it. She was convinced she'd misheard. Years of dreaming about Pyrrha whether, Weiss was awake or asleep, were clearly starting to affect the heiress now, manifesting and projecting in words that Weiss never thought she'd hear.

She'd probably fallen asleep and was just dreaming again.

So why not indulge herself in her dreams? It was the only way she could ever have Pyrrha, the only way she could ever hear the crimson-haired girl speak those words.

"Thank you…" she breathed. "Thank you so much, Pyrrha. I... I love you, too. I love you so much. I always have."

Even if it was just a dream, she felt this would be enough.

. . .

The chain of emotions that ran through Pyrrha's stomach was something she would never forget.

First, there had been the pain and the sadness, even the anger at herself for what she had done.

They had given way to an overwhelming happiness to be with Weiss, alive and well, holding her the way they had done earlier in the day.

Then, there were the regrets. Violent, forceful regrets stabbing through her heart without warning. There was no way that she had just said those words. Lying to herself yielded no results, and even as her mind raced with newfound fears - what if Weiss didn't feel the same way? What if Pyrrha had said too much too soon? What if Weiss assumed that she was only saying something like that to ease her pain? What if Weiss didn't want to be with someone like her? Someone who was too scared to admit to herself - let alone the one she admired so much in so many ways - that she may feel something more than just friendship towards her friend?

And yet, even those surging doubts fell apart the moment Weiss responded.

Pyrrha couldn't believe her ears. She was too afraid to move, to break the illusion that she hadn't ruined the friendship they had built up for months. Her voice was meek, a sound she only ever let herself sound of at night.

"…R-really? I thought that… that you o-only saw me as a friend…"

. . .

Weiss was a bit puzzled; usually the dream would have ended by now, but for whatever reason, it was continuing. Pyrrha was asking her something, and Weiss needed to respond, needed to think…

But this was just a dream, so she wouldn't hold anything back.

"Of course you're my friend, Pyrrha. I'm so lucky to have you. I've admired you for so long. You're so righteous, so powerful and so caring, so genuine and beautiful. I feel a bit selfish for considering you a friend, but I do.

"But you're so much more than just a friend to me. You've taught me so much - more than you probably know. I love you more than I could ever express, for more reasons than I could ever explain, and even some I can't. You're the best thing in my life, Pyrrha, and I don't ever want you to leave it."

It was strange; she was being oddly honest about all of this. She envied her dreams, wished she could someday find the courage to tell all of this to Pyrrha for real.

But for now, she would just savor all of this, and hope that someday she would find the courage to say it all when she was awake.

. . .

She wanted to cry. But not of fear nor sadness like minutes earlier, no. Now, Pyrrha wanted to cry for happiness.

Even if she were imagining Weiss' answers to be the ones she wished so desperately to hear, there was no denying the waves of warmth that were spreading across her body, over her mind and through her heart. She would gladly deal with the consequences of being so impulsive and inconsiderate of Weiss' feelings if she could remember this feeling for the rest of her life.

And it only got better.

The more Weiss spoke, the more she praised and complimented her - genuinely, from the heart - the better Pyrrha felt.

From the heart. For the first time in her life - Pyrrha believed those words. They weren't empty. They weren't hollow or false, spoken to get into her fame; they were real.

Real, just like her tears.

She couldn't even speak, her muffled sobs stifled further as she buried her face into Weiss' shoulder, clinging to the girl like she was her lifeline. Really, that were true for the both of them. She loved Weiss so, so much. She couldn't imagine a world without her.

. . .

She kept waiting for the dream to end, to wake up and find herself alone in her bed, giddy and lightheaded from the scenes her imagination had so kindly allowed her to play through. It was like a small act of mercy, to permit her to say all of this to Pyrrha, even if it wasn't real.

But this dream really was taking a long while to end.

It was that realization that caused Weiss to open her eyes-

-and discover this was all too real.

She gasped, feeling fresh tears jump up to her eyes, stinging painfully, her fingers curling tighter into the fabrics of her friend's shirt.

"P-Pyrrha…?" Her voice was timid, thin, like ice about to break at the slightest addition of pressure. "T-This… this is real…?"

She didn't believe it. There was just… no way…

And yet, she could hear the smile on Pyrrha's lips even as she cried, almost like she was laughing joyously. Weiss blinked again, letting more baffled tears fall, sniffling as her embrace tentatively tightened.

. . .

Everything was barely understandable. Her eyes stung with tears and her throat was beginning to burn from sobbing so much, yet the arms around her seemed to lift all the pain from her shoulders effortlessly.

She could have stayed like this forever, but as always - something changed.

Her chest immediately tightened and a choked cry escaped her lips as she heard Weiss gasp, her grip on the heiress' nightgown tightening even further in a childish refusal to let go. Her eyes scrunched shut as Pyrrha waited to hear the shocked and angry words of how she had destroyed their friendship and all the time they had spent together, she had woken from her fantasy and now she would have to face reality. Her voice had all but abandoned her, the noise that resulted barely being a whisper.

"I'm s-sorry for ruining t-this for you…I should have kept my mouth shut…"

. . .

At the sound of Pyrrha's voice, Weiss immediately knew what was happening. All the thoughts that were running through Pyrrha's mind right now were the same ones Weiss had been considering for months now - fears of soiling whatever friendship they'd spent so long building.

"No…" she murmured. "Pyrrha, no, that's not it… Hearing you say that… it made me happier than anything-"

How was she even supposed to begin describing this? Convey what she was feeling? She could only try.

"I was just… really surprised all of this wasn't a dream. It usually is, but this time… this time it's real." Her voice wavered listlessly. "How long have I been… dreaming it could be real…?"

Her embrace tightened with every shred of strength left in her body. "I love you, Pyrrha. I always have, and I'm not afraid or ashamed to admit it anymore."

If not her words, she hoped the fast beat of her heart could convince Pyrrha she meant it.

. . .

If she weren't already a crying wreck, she would have been now. To be told that the one she admired so much - the one she viewed so highly and the one she spent every day wishing she could be with - felt the same way, was as though every single burden ever placed on her shoulders had been lifted with a single breath.

She could feel it, too. The rhythm against her ear was louder and more rapid, the hold around her body growing stronger and putting all her fears at ease so effortlessly.

Nobody had even come close to this before. Her family, her 'friends' not even her teammates. None of them had ever managed to make her feel a shred of what Weiss was doing for her now.

Pyrrha's tears didn't stop, but her apologies finally did. Even after her voice dried up completely, she still clung to the heiress as if her life depended on it. Her arms ached with the strain of holding on so tightly for so long, and her shoulder sent throbs of sharp pain coursing through her body, but even the involuntary twitches and shudders that mixed with her silent whimpering couldn't dampen her mood.

She didn't know how to feel anymore, only that she wanted to be here for as long as possible.

. . .

She was relieved that the apologies had stopped; Weiss never wanted Pyrrha to feel sorry for her emotions. No one should ever feel sorry for expressing themselves, especially through such pure tears.

But Weiss could feel how badly Pyrrha was shaking now, could feel the desperate grip around her tightening even more. She knew Pyrrha was happy - maybe even as happy as Weiss herself was right now, if that was possible. Above all else, she could feel how utterly exhausted Pyrrha was; she'd just spent an hour taking care of Weiss, worrying for her, and then saving her life, and now-

Now…

She seemed emotionally drained, but in a good way, if that made any sense. Those tears spoke volumes, and Weiss felt she could relate.

Slowly, Weiss shifted their positions. "Come here…" she murmured gently. Lying down onto her back, she brought her friend with her, cradling Pyrrha's head against her chest, letting the taller girl use her body as a pillow of sorts.

Weiss let out a shaky sigh, but it was content - elated, and blissful beyond explanation. She kept one arm around Pyrrha's shoulders as the other played through her soft, crimson hair.

The heiress closed her eyes for a moment, letting a few tears drip down, breathing out small, soothing hums to her. "Shh… Pyrrha… It's okay… I've got you now…"

And the moon would crumble entirely before she let go.

. . .

There had been many times today that Pyrrha had wished it would never end, but this one even more-so than the rest. Her tears had flowed so much that they had dried, staining her face with every conflicting emotion that had passed over and through her skin.

Her eyes were heavy with exhaustion, barely able to stay open anymore. Her entire body ached for rest - dust knows she needed it - but resting would mean leaving Weiss, in mind if not in body, and so Pyrrha fought hard to stay awake. Even her breathing was subdued, listening to Weiss' heartbeat and syncing the two together without realizing it.

Everything right now was perfect. The hold on her, the hand in her hair, the warmth and comfort offered by the heiress, the voice soothing her so, so much…it was a dream come true.

But then, Pyrrha reminded herself that it wasn't a dream. It was real. She was actually laying with her head on Weiss' chest, she actually had an arm around her friend's waist. They had actually confessed to each other.

With that in mind, perhaps she should apologize for that, too.

It was practically soundless, but she didn't mind if Weiss didn't hear her. As long as she said it, she would sleep that night - or sooner, if her closing eyelids were anything to go by - with no regrets at all.

"I'm sorry…"

. . .

Perhaps it had been the near-death experience, or perhaps it was because of the intense wave of emotions that had flooded over her since she'd regained consciousness. Whatever the reason, she seemed to be particularly perceptive to her senses now.

So she heard Pyrrha's little apology, and Weiss' eyelids lifted, her chin tilting downward so she may glimpse her friend's face as best she could from this angle. Pyrrha seemed peaceful as she was now, and Weiss could relate. She continued running her hands up and down her friend's back and shoulders, through her hair, mapping patterns with her palms.

"Don't be sorry, Pyrrha. There's nothing to be sorry for," she mumbled. "You saved my life. I love you and… and you love me. That's all there is to it." It felt strange to say, but she wouldn't deny it. To deny what Pyrrha had told her would be like insulting her feelings, and Weiss refused to do that.

At long last, her body had returned to a calmer state, as it had been in her illness before she'd stopped breathing in her sleep. Her pulse and breath slowed, and she stopped trembling as much, though the fever lingered.

But Weiss didn't think she minded all that much anymore if it mean that Pyrrha stayed, as well.

. . .

It wouldn't have been a stretch to say that Pyrrha was exhausted. Her body was tired and her eyes were heavy with the strain of keeping them open, and though she never would have imagined she would find herself where she was, she didn't want to close them for fear of waking up in her bed, alone.

It was stupid of her to think that way and she knew it; Weiss would surely tell her the same thing if she knew, Pyrrha was sure. She wanted to sleep, but she wanted to stay with Weiss even more.

Her free hand grasped at the heiress' nightgown with a weak grip, and her eyes watched the elegant and expensive material slip through her fingers, her mind trying to fight to stay awake. It was a losing battle, that much was obvious, her body overpowering her resolve to keep awake to make her limbs even more tired than before.

She couldn't quite concentrate on any one thing besides Weiss, and Pyrrha was fine with that. Even as her eyes relented and closed, her hold around the heiress' waist didn't waver and Pyrrha knew she would rest easy with Weiss' words still in her head.

'I love you.'

It still felt like a dream, something she only ever hoped and wished for when she was alone with her emotions, but she smiled as the darkness of sleep grabbed ahold of her in its grasp. Pyrrha welcomed it if it meant she could wake up and make sure Weiss was okay.

Her consciousness may have eased, but her grasp on her friend tightened in a thoughtless act of reassurance just before Pyrrha slipped into the realms of sleep.

. . .

She could feel Pyrrha slipping away. It made Weiss smile a little; she could feel the girl relaxing, her shoulders finally losing their tension beneath the heiress' palms. Despite all that, Weiss could feel Pyrrha's grip around her waist tighten, as if defiantly, unwilling to let go of Weiss even as she relinquished her conscious.

Weiss wasn't about to let her go either.

She continued holding Pyrrha where she lay on top of her, rubbing her back and shoulders, listening to her sigh as she finally let herself succumb to slumber.

You deserve it, Weiss thought. Pyrrha had done so much in just the last few hours, much more than Weiss could ever comprehend or repay. The least she could do now was let her friend rest well.

She gazed up at the ceiling as she lie there with Pyrrha in her arms, a fantasy she still couldn't believe had come true. Everything felt profoundly different, and yet entirely real. It was strange, but pleasant. She was suddenly aware of every breath, every heartbeat, and normally, she would've scrunched her nose and encouraged sleep to come.

But now with Pyrrha, everything was so important. Every breath, every heartbeat meant something here with her. For the first time in her life, Weiss felt they weren't being wasted.

Her eyes closed before very much longer, and she felt herself slipping…

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A/N: I like the concept of Pyrrha my partner had when writing this, how she's so cautious and reserved she probably has done and experienced fewer things than even Weiss, in some cases. She definitely puts everyone and everything else before herself, that's for sure.