A MIRROR BROKEN.

⠀⠀⠀❛ ⠀I always thought Remnant’s moon was kinda cooler anyways...⠀ ❜⠀

               “  yeah, no thanks--- i don’t drink.  ” even the waitress’ tempting offer of a cheap cocktail couldn’t sway him, and he takes a sip of his soda, as if to drive the point home. if happy hour isn’t dissuading that resolve, then nothing will at this point, “  nice try, though.  ”

       once upon a time, a free shot thrown in with every order would’ve been music to his ears, but that story is far more than a few chapters deep, and he’ll be in need of another virgin mojito pretty soon.

               “  has anyone told that guy?  ” qrow gestures to the stranger seated beside him, and the empty tumbler by his elbow, “  i’m sure he could use a refill.  ”

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.

❝ Has something happened? ❞

       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. ”

Every nerve ending in Neo’s legs was firing off, putting her on pins and needles in an unconscious, desperate attempt to get her to RUN. That instinct to survive had served her well in the past, and, were she as able as before, surely would now. She knew better, though- not only would it be futile without her semblance, but…well, maybe she wouldn’t need to. He’d menace her however he wished, surely, but starting a fight here- KILLING her outright, even- would be unnecessary. Even if she’d heard right about Qrow being a loose cannon, he wouldn’t go that far against an unarmed adversary…right?

Still, nervous as his approach made her, serious as his threat certainly was…she couldn’t help but be a little annoyed. He was the one who stopped her from just booking it- even though she decided it would’ve been a fruitless effort in the end. She would’ve been fully content to never look him in the eye, but she had to take the opportunity to face him head-on, one he easily could’ve taken for himself if he so desired. Regardless of who instigated the confrontation, Neo got the message loud and clear, and communicated this understanding through a mildly sardonic thumbs-up.

       FEAR, IN LIEU OF PAIN, IS A POTENT WEAPON; it mightn’t be his first choice, but if he can’t muster a more permanent solution, then he’ll just have to remind her of his presence on occasion. he isn’t above threatening a little violence now and again, so he’ll haunt her every move, keep her on her toes. taking her answer at face value would be foolish--- the very second she steps out of line, he’ll make her circumstances so loud and clear, that she won’t dare make the same mistake twice. satisfied for now, qrow straightens.

               “  good answer.  ” he drawls tersely, before gliding past her without a care, and a passing quip, “  you can breathe now.  ”

       after a few steps, the huntsman pauses, then angles his head toward a shoulder.

⠀⠀⠀IT’S⠀⠀his own reaction, visceral and raw, that wears down the last of her composure. Her feet dangle freely from the ground, but she remains rigid from the waist up — so tight was her grip and his. She’s not sure what specifically he’s apologizing for — if anything, she should be the one apologizing for the way things have gone since… … For a while, actually.

⠀⠀⠀But somehow that apology is exactly what she needs to hear. It breaks her heart to hear her uncle like this, but it allows the dam to break in her own chest, too. Her eyes burn with a familiar sting, and her body shakes from the abandoned attempt to keep it all in. Small hands — weary hands — bunch up the back of his vest with deceptive strength, and although she angles her face to allow herself to be more audible, she remains thoroughly buried.

⠀⠀⠀❛ ⠀You shouldn’t be sorry,⠀ ❜⠀⠀Ruby insists with a stiff half-shake of the head. ⠀❛ ⠀I’m just glad you’re okay… ! Everything got so confusing that I… really wasn’t sure if…⠀ ❜⠀It’s a thought she can’t even finish, voice shaky and leaving her in sporadic waves until she gives up entirely. She merely repeats herself, heaving like a sob she couldn’t quite choke. ⠀❛ ⠀I’m just glad you’re o—kay…⠀ ❜⠀

       SILENCE; that's the last thing he remembers. not even the sound of the water rushing into the crater of what once stood mantle, swallowing what remained of it, along with atlas. his blood ran cold when only a short burst of static answered his plea for ruby and yang, and then... nothing--- that silence he dreaded. in that moment, the world decided he hadn't lost enough, and so it coveted a greater price to be paid for his failings.

                                               ... but why did it have to be them?

       wracked by a hoarse sob, qrow wrinkles his brow, moving a hand to cradle the back of her head.

               “  sshh, it's okay... it's alright.  ”  he murmurs gently “  i got you, kiddo.  ”

       with a squeeze of his embrace, as though to balm his doubts that she were really here, he parts from her arms, shifting his grasp to her shoulders. finally, he's able to look her in the eye after a quick swipe of his wrist over his own, and with a renewed surety... he knows that's his niece. 

       a sense of ease ebbs into his expression, and from it stems a smile. it's fleeting however, for there are other pressing matters he must address.

SURPRISE LINGERS IN HER GAZE, subtle yet certain. as if a realization has found its way to her amidst staring into pale scarlets. something is different, albeit remaining the same, old crow she met so long ago. in some strange way, it feels more like a comfort to her than anything, to have found one person among a world of so many that you might notice such fleeting, little differences with each meeting. and even if he may never believe it himself, she felt lucky it was him and not some other, lonely soul.

so, what he asks silently is met, at long last, with an answer. one that any else who thought to inquire would seek lifetimes for, never to attain it from her lips.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀— one meant for him, and only him, alone.

her lips linger against his, spanning over moments, yet feeling as if time itself has come to a crawl. fingertips trail from the loose cloth of his sleeve to ghost along his wrist. they stay here briefly, a moment to cherish, before they find a home pressed into the center of his palm, held loosely in her own hand like something forbid their hands to hold. she pulls away seconds later, expression unreadable as if processing it all; the way her chest feels as if may split, releasing those fettered, hidden feelings into the world like the box pandora sought to open.

not in regards to him, but rather herself. thoughts which swirl in her mind of how adamant she once was… until he had crossed paths with her life, in this very city. something is different with her too, the truth blaring louder than ever, an inkling that would not leave her thoughts. whatever it was, this thing she always feared would clip her wings and bind her to the earth, she no longer minded it so much, so long as it was by his hand. her eyes remain upon him in turn, only a tilt of her head to follow.

❝ What’s wrong with being a little selfish sometimes? ❞ she mirrors his question, a smile being offered, inviting him to try and argue his own sentiments.

       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.  ”