red-eyed.

fingers press to her lips in thought, pondering the entirety of it, as she stands there with the younger girl. a few blinks are had before a sudden question escapes her lips.

❝ Do you think it's still considered edible— ❞

       SHE WELCOMES HIM; against her lips, her body, into her arms— into her heart, and he doesn’t want to leave. it’s a warm place, somewhere he’s never known before, and yet, somehow he just knows it’s right where he wants to be, as if he’s wanted it all along. they shared in that longing together, melting into each other’s embrace and it’s there they linger. they’re ghosts, unable to let go, searching for some measure of peace to put them to rest, and its in each other that they find that answer they were looking for all this time.

       there’s whispers of an unspoken truth in the way he sought her lips, the way he laces his fingers into her hair, his palm nestled against the back of her head… as though for the very last time. this isn’t just some void he’s trying to fill with her affection, piecing himself back together with the love she has to offer him. no— she’s a part of him that he can’t bear to lose.

                                                  not like i’ve lost everybody else.

       when he pulls away, it’s deliberately slow, like it’s the very last thing he wanted to do. peering at her through hooded eyes, they close again, and he rests his brow against hers briefly, before her head lowers to his chest. it fits neatly beneath his chin, and it’s there he settles as well, simply relishing in the closeness with a quiet sigh. his hand drifts to her back, and qrow cracks his eyes open again, curling his lip.

“  ‘ birds of a feather ’, huh?  ” pushing people away has never really been a matter of choice, but of necessity. it’s been his style for so long, he never knew how to do anything else, or act any other way. if he wanted to hold on to anything, or anyone he loved, then keeping it all at arm’s length was the only way. those few moments with clover afforded him a glimpse into something better… but then it was all ripped away from him again.

                                      maybe… this time could be different.

“  … the first time we met,  ” he begins gently, “  … you remember what you said?  ”

                    ... “ children of misfortune. ”

       he didn’t think much of it at the time, glossing over her words without a second thought— but it’s stayed with him nonetheless.

THERE'S A WARMTH IN HIS ARMS, one she lets engulf her, his touch a solace that makes her feel at peace. where fingers play with silver crosses soon finds itself abandoned, her hand moved to seek the heat of his cheek, before her palm takes refuge there. it almost makes her want to kiss him again, if not for him speaking, settling instead for her thumb to brush along his skin in a gentle rhythm. she lets her touch linger, indulging in the moment, before it slips away to his chest, resting beneath her like a pillow as she leans against him more. and then he asks her if she remembers.

were it anyone else, the moment their existence left this place, they would've been long since forgotten without second thoughts. just as she had done to jack once, as so many before, left to the throes of some distant, lost era. but qrow, he had always been different. someone she could never quite rid herself of, something which seeds itself deep in her mind, crawling down her spine like creeping vines, until thorn-laden roses had sprout forth from her heart. and to pull them would only tear at one's flesh, each tug trickling blood, and leave a hollow hole in its garden. it was... a loney feeling, to think of it missing.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀... it's because of those red eyes.

it's a blame she claims by default, lies for herself, left unspoken to eventually fade before long. only now, as she thinks, that had never quite been the case, had it? he was no longer the only one she'd seen with them. this city showed her that, time and again. and still, without a single misstep, she would return to him, like a tiny bird who flies back to where it always knew was home. no matter how much she criticizes the reason, she knows more than she cares to admit that it runs far deeper than some fickle whim, all spun together because of a pair of colored eyes drew her his way.

❝ 'So what do you call it when two unlucky people meet?' ❞ lacie echoes his words again, this time from a day that feels so far away, like her own little way of showing she recalls. ❝ But maybe I'm quoting the wrong guy, ❞ her next set of words hit, further cementing her memories remain in tact, even at the prod of how immediately distant toward her he had become in that moment.

       THERE’S HOME IN HER EYES; something he never thought he would find again, something he had given up searching for a long time ago. all those years spent licking his wounds, running from what he needed most… but someone saw meaning in him that he had never seen before. it’s the way she looks at him each time they meet, like he’s the only one in the room, like the air had rushed back in and they could both finally breathe. they’re broken, and they’re flawed; cursed to shoulder a fate neither of them asked for…

       … but maybe they can write a new story, with a happier ending.

       the answer is in her lips, the soft touch of them against his own— it sets him free. closing his eyes, he meets her there, in that place she invites him to with her kiss, and he never wants to leave. a hand settles at her waist, gently drawing her body closer to his, and when she eventually parts from him, she leaves behind a bittersweet wanting. he almost chases after her, but instead, he waits, searching her expression. his smile falters, if only for a moment, until lacie echoes his earlier words.

               “  … hm.  ” qrow hums amusedly, brushing his thumb over her knuckles, before returning the favour, “  nothing at all.  ”

       his touch strays from hers, ghosting his fingers along her jaw. leaning in, he lingers shy of her lips, as if in silent appeal… before fervidly pressing his mouth to hers.

HE DOESN’T FOLLOW DESPITE THE WANT, rather to look for something, whatever it may be. she sees it with ease in the way that he keeps her closer, all while not crossing that thinly veiled line. had he, she couldn’t quite say what she may have done, at least not like she might have been able to before. still, there was no wonder to be had, the trust she had given to him shown it was never misplaced. here, in his grasp, she feels just as unbound as she has always made sure to be, even when any other would try to cage her.

the warmth of his touch leaves, seeking another place as ghosts across her jaw, and she lets it. it’s then that his lips find her own again, an ardor in them that’s undeniable, bleeding into every second which passes by. hands that were left to their own now take refuge against his back, returning his act in kind with that same fervor, all while taking this moment as hers — no, it would only be right to call it theirs, wouldn’t it.

so she decides, then and there, for it to be qrow to pull away whenever it may suit him, rather than by her own doing. this much she finds she can do with no complaint.

and when he does, the inviting warmth of his lips now fading from her own, her head takes little time to rest against his chest, making it her temporary home as the sound of his heart beats on. a hand moves to one of the silver, cross-shaped buttons on his vest, idly playing with it as she sees fit. ❝ I had thought you would’ve kept pushing me away. Well, it’s not as if I’d blame you if you had. I’ve been told I can be pretty trying, too. ❞ her tone lifts into an almost laugh, amusement laced with every word, ones many would have little to argue. perhaps it would have been best to leave certain things unspoken after that, if not for the moment, yet she asks all the same.