Speak First, Think Later - Bumbleby Oneshot (Patreon)

Hey everyone! I'm back (sort of...). I'm writing somewhat consistently, though I don't know if it's any good, so that's something. There are still plenty of days when I don't feel like doing anything, but keep moving forward, right?

I wrote this oneshot a while ago and then forgot to post it, so I tidied it up a bit for you to enjoy now. Next week, we'll start Flashing Lights. I'm feeling some anxiety about jumping back into things, but I need to get back onto a schedule eventually or I might just wither away altogether.

This oneshot was just a silly idea to embarrass Blake a little bit. She can't be calm and collected all the time.

****

“Good thing we’re here early.  Looks like it’ll be full.”

“What’d you expect?” Blake asked, setting down her bag and sending Weiss an amused glance.  Weiss muttered something about ‘student-to-teacher ratios’ and ‘exorbitant tuition prices’ while removing a notebook from her bag and dutifully placing it in front of her.  Her blue eyes flitted to the classroom door as each student arrived, silently judging them as they picked desks from the tiered rows of seats.

“Ugh.  They’re in this class?”

Blake glanced at the group of frat boys clogging up the entrance and chuckled to herself.  Their boisterous voices broke the comfortable volume that had existed before their arrival, and they thought nothing of blocking the doorway so that they could joke amongst themselves.

“Everyone wants to take this class for a reason,” Blake commented as the boys lumbered to some seats on the far side of the room.  

“Right.  Because it’s ‘fun.’”

“Interesting,” Blake corrected before nudging Weiss’ shoulder.  “We’re supposed to have fun, remember?  Senior year…two semesters from graduation…time to live it up while we can.”

Weiss sighed, but Blake playfully rolled her eyes at the stubborn response.  Her gaze flitted to the doorway as more students trickled in, some of whom she vaguely recognized after three years of school and some of whom she had never seen even in passing.  At a school of Vale University’s size and outside of her major, it was unsurprising that there were still new people to meet - if she actually met them.

Just as she turned away, a glimpse of radiant blonde hair dragged her gaze back to the entrance.  Then her eyes widened, her heart jumped, and she drew in a sharp breath while trying not to stare at one of her new classmates.

“Weiss,” she whispered, nudging Weiss’ elbow before subtly nodding to the door.  “Tell me that’s not the most beautiful girl you’ve ever seen.”

Weiss glanced at the tall, athletic blonde standing by the door and pursed her lips.

“She is pretty…”

“Drop-dead gorgeous,” Blake corrected, letting her gaze drift over the girl while pretending to straighten her notebook and pen on the desk in front of her.  A leather jacket and dark denim jeans showed off an enviable physique, but there was something in the way the blonde smiled and talked to the energetic orange-haired girl with her that grabbed Blake’s interest and refused to let go.  Had they been outside, the sun would have shone brighter or the breeze would have rustled through that beautiful blonde hair like in a movie.  Passerby would stop and stare, and time would move in slow motion like it did for lifeguards and supermodels in movies.

“What do you think her story is…?” Blake mused, her heart fluttering when the blonde laughed at something her friend said.  

“Why don’t you ask?”  Blake blinked at the question and finally turned away, but Weiss nodded to the pair of strangers at the front of the class.  “Go talk to her.”

“Are you crazy?”  Blake shook her head and waved both hands in front of her.  “No way.”

“Why not?  It’s senior year, remember?  We’re supposed to have fun.”  Weiss smirked but, when Blake shook her head again, dramatically sighed.  “I didn’t want to add this, but you’re perpetually single.  If you think she’s gorgeous, go say hi - get on her radar before everyone else does.”

Weiss nodded to the other side of the classroom, where one of the frat boys had already separated from his friends and sauntered over to introduce himself.  The blonde’s friend seemed amused by his presence, but the tall beauty entertained him with a bright smile and ample laughter.  The unsolicited introduction didn’t seem to bother her.  In fact, if the way she leaned back against the desk was any indication, she embraced the opportunity to meet a new acquaintance.

“See?” Weiss added.  “She’s friendly.  You could be just like that guy, learning her name and…whatever it is he’s doing.”

The boy was, for whatever reason, flexing his biceps, which the blonde didn’t seem particularly enthused about but pretended to be for his sake.

“Or,” Weiss added, “You can spend the semester daydreaming about her as one of the characters in your dirty books, then the semester will end, our schedules will change, and you’ll never see each other again, leaving you to wonder what could have been for the rest of your life.”

Weiss huffed and flipped her long, white ponytail over her shoulder as if the shockingly true statement personally affronted her.  Blake, on the other hand, chewed on her bottom lip before nodding.

“Fine.  I’ll do it.”  Blake pushed herself to her feet and took one step toward the aisle before turning around.  “I don’t want to bother her,” she said, but Weiss grabbed her chair so that she couldn't sit back down.

“Just bump into her, say sorry, then introduce yourself.  It’s not like you’re asking to marry her or something.  You’re in the same class - you’ll learn each other’s names eventually.”

“I knew we shouldn’t have taken a class together…”

“I know.  I’m the worst, aren’t I?”  

Weiss smiled with the remark, still holding Blake’s chair hostage, so Blake rolled her eyes.  Rather than make a scene trying to wrest her chair from Weiss’ grasp, she tore a piece of paper out of her notebook and balled it up.  “For the trash,” she explained before making her way toward the wastepaper basket near the door.  She descended the stairs slowly and carefully, trying to time her approach with the boy returning to his friends.  

“We should check it out sometime,” he said while Blake walked past them to the door, holding the balled-up paper in plain view as if someone might ask what she was doing.  

“Yeah, sure, maybe!” the blonde replied.  Her voice was smooth as honey - the type of voice that Blake could feel if she closed her eyes and imagined it.  She wanted to look over so badly, and maybe share a look of commiseration over what was clearly a polite rejection.  “We should probably get ready for class now though,” the blonde added, which he thankfully took as his cue to leave.

Blake almost took that as her cue to not interact at all but, keenly aware of Weiss’ observation, she dropped the paper into the basket, hesitated for a second, then spun around and stepped forward.  She timed the step perfectly with when the blonde moved toward her seat, and their shoulders collided.  Rather than a soft bump, however, Blake flinched as the collision knocked her back a step.

“Ouch,” she said, rubbing her upper arm while the blonde reached out to steady her.

“I’m sorry!  Are you ok?  I didn’t see you there.  I mean, I did, but I didn’t think you’d turn so fast.  Are you ok?”

Blake opened her mouth to offer her own apology but gaped like an idiot instead.  The pain in her shoulder had disappeared, leaving only a warm, tingling sensation in her stomach as she gawked at how beautiful the blonde was up close.  Not only was her long golden hair soft, healthy, and perfect, but her lilac eyes sparkled even under the cheap fluorescent lights, the cutest freckles dusted across her cheeks and nose, and her half-zipped leather jacket revealed a white top cut so low that it practically begged Blake to look down it.

She did.  But the moment she realized what she was doing, she forced her gaze away and blushed.

“Uh, I didn’t, like, paralyze you by knocking into your shoulder, did I?”

The blonde chuckled despite looking vaguely concerned that something equally worrisome might have just happened.  

“I’m Blake,” Blake spit out before shaking her head.  “I mean, I’m fine.  I’m fine.”  She rubbed her arm and glanced up at Weiss, who motioned for her to keep speaking.  So, despite how horribly this had started, she threw on a smile and added, “How often do you work out though?  Your arm must be made of metal.”

She chuckled at the lame compliment, but her smile disappeared when the blonde frowned, half-lifted her right hand, and flexed her very much metal fingers.  A hot blush rushed onto Blake’s cheeks when she realized her tragic mistake.  She had been so absorbed by the hair and smile and eyes and well-endowed chest that she hadn’t even noticed the prosthetic hand.

“Oh.”  The word sucked all the calm, rational thoughts from her mind, leaving her with nothing but a jumble of half sentences and a high-pitched shrieking somewhere between her ears.  “I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean - there’s nothing wrong with - I was just…surprised by how hard you are.”

When the girl tilted her head, a bemused smile tugging at one corner of her mouth, Blake looked around for a shovel to dig her own grave with.

“I didn’t mean…like that,” she sputtered only to make matters infinitely worse by letting her gaze drop to the blonde’s jeans.  Her gaze snapped back up like a bullet leaving a rifle, but the girl had already noticed and arched a brow - this time very clearly amused.  

Before Blake could stick her foot even further into her mouth, a middle-aged man with shockingly green hair, wire spectacles, and a tie loosely knotted around his neck rushed into the room.  He accidentally slammed his briefcase into the doorframe while doing so, making everyone in the vicinity flinch in surprise.

“Apologies,” he said before hurrying to the desk in the front of the room.  

Taking that as her cue to leave, Blake glanced at the blonde, pointed over her shoulder, and backed away.  “I should, um -” was all she said before bolting to her seat, feeling that lilac gaze following her up the steps.

“How’d it go?” Weiss asked as soon as Blake slunk into her chair.

“I didn’t realize she had a prosthetic arm and then commented on how ‘hard’ she is.”

“You…what?”

Blake waved off Weiss’ audible disbelief before staring at her notebook and silently praying for the floor to swallow her whole.  Her cheeks burned so hot that they must be red enough to be seen from space.  And she couldn't, no matter how hard she stared at the blank page in front of her, forget the blonde’s miffed expression when Blake commented on the hardness of her arm.

“Good afternoon, everyone!” the professor called out moments later, his rapid words providing a distraction from Blake’s distress.  “I’m Professor Oobleck.  You can call me Professor Oobleck, or Oobleck, or just Oob if you’re feeling light on syllables.”

He paused so that the class could chuckle at his introduction.  

“Welcome to Popular Culture Studies,” he added, rocking back and forth on his feet as if he was about to race around the room.  He clasped his hands in front of him then unclasped them and ‘straightened’ his tie.  It remained just as crooked, but he continued regardless.  “Now.  Who can tell me why popular culture is so vital to our society?”

Several hands went up around the room, launching them into an overview of popular culture before diving into the topics that would be covered before the semester ended.  His near-breathless tirade proved that he was as energetic and enthusiastic as previous students claimed.  Obviously, he enjoyed talking about movies, television shows, and music just as much as many of them did.  His mannerisms were also hilarious - sometimes intentionally so, sometimes not.  

Blake took a handful of notes but mostly watched him fly around the room, gesturing and talking nonstop.  Every time he reached the doorway, her gaze lingered on the pretty blonde.  Her mortification flared every time, but she was also vaguely enraptured watching the girl laugh or whisper to the orange-haired girl sitting beside her.  She had removed her jacket, unveiling strong shoulders and well-defined shoulder blades.  Her short-sleeved shirt also revealed the extent of her prosthetic, which cut off midway up her right bicep.

“Ok, students!”  Blake flinched and averted her gaze when Professor Oobleck clapped his hands.  “Without further ado, we’ll jump into your first project: a five-page analysis of the media of your choosing.  You’ll focus on the work’s themes, cultural influences, and impact on society.”

Professor Oobleck surveyed the class while everyone digested that assignment.  Blake shared a look with Weiss, both of them likely thinking that sounded like an easy project, before he clasped his hands together and smiled.

“Wonderful,” he said before returning to his desk.  “Did I mention you’ll be working in pairs?  I’ve randomly assigned partners.  I have them right…here.”

He set his briefcase on the desk and opened it so fast that loose papers flew out and scattered all over the floor.  

“Oh, bullocks,” he muttered while scurrying to collect the runaway pages.  Some students chuckled - Blake included - but the blonde gathered several papers that had slid in front of her desk and politely returned them to the professor.  “Thank you,” he told her before straightening his glasses, then straightening the pages in his hands.  “Now, let’s see…”  He flipped through several pages before finding the one he wanted.  “Aha!  Here we go.”

He read the list out loud, starting with students whose last names began with the letter ‘A.’  It wasn’t long before he called out Blake’s name, prompting her to raise her hand when he searched for her.  He nodded before his gaze returned to the list in his hands.  “Miss Belladonna, you’ll be working with Yang Xiao Long.  Miss Xiao Long - where are you?”

Blake’s heart dropped through her stomach when the blonde raised her hand and swiveled around in her seat.  As soon as their gazes met, Blake mustered a smile that probably bordered on a grimace.  Yang, on the other hand, winked and wiggled her metal fingers.

“Aren’t you lucky?” Weiss whispered as Professor Oobleck continued down the list.

“I’m really, really not…” Blake whispered back, already dreading the upcoming apology.  By the time Weiss received her partner, a shy-looking girl with long, straight brown hair, Blake wondered if she had to apologize or if she could pretend like she hadn’t made an absolute fool of herself.  Yang, based on her excited chatters with her friend, was none the worse for wear after her unfortunate run-in with Blake’s shockingly awkward side.

Blake hadn’t made a decision by the time Professor Oobleck gave them the last few minutes of class to meet with their partners and choose a topic.  While the class started moving around the room to sit with their partners, Yang caught Blake’s gaze and motioned to the seat that her friend just vacated.  Blake nodded and grabbed her notebook, but took a deep breath before leaving.

“Good luck,” Weiss whispered as her own partner came to take Blake’s seat.  Blake smiled at the girl before heading down to join her new partner.  Yang’s gaze - those same lilac eyes that had sparkled with amusement so recently - followed Blake’s progress down the stairs, and a smile picked up her lips when Blake reached her.

“Um…hi,” Blake said, setting her notebook on the desk but not sitting down.

“Hi.”  Yang smiled for another second before pushing herself to her feet and extending her hand.  “I didn’t get to introduce myself.  I’m Yang.”  

Blake glanced at Yang’s metal fingers, then at Yang’s alluring height, before saying, “Blake,” and shaking Yang’s hand.  The smooth, cool metal of Yang’s prosthetic felt remarkably nice, and Blake might have trailed her fingers across Yang’s palm before dropping Yang’s hand like a smoldering ember when Yang tilted her head.

“You want to sit or are you one of those ‘works better standing up’ people?”  

Yang’s friendly grin put Blake more at ease, and she even managed a small smile while saying, “My feet would hate me if I stood all day.”

“Then this chair’s got your name on it.”

Yang patted the chair and waited for Blake to sit down before returning to her own seat. 

“I’m, uh, sorry about before,” Blake spilled before the moment passed.

“Don’t worry about it.”  

Yang waved off the apology, but Blake fiddled with her pen.

“I really don’t have an issue with it.  It’s just…a part of you.  Or, like, not a part of you because - you know.  It’s, like…an accessory?”  Blake snapped her mouth shut, shook her head, and forced a smile.  “It’s just a part of your whole look, kind of like your shirt.”

Yang tilted her head and then looked down at her top.

“What’s wrong with my shirt?”

“Oh, you know, it’s pretty revealing.”  As soon as Yang’s brow furrowed, Blake’s eyes widened.  “Not that there’s anything wrong with that!  I mean, if I had those -”  She nodded to Yang’s chest.  “I’d flaunt them, too.”

Having just looked down Yang’s top again, and then commented on what she saw, Blake blushed redder than a ripe tomato.  And Yang stared for so long that Blake nearly raised her hand and asked Professor Oobleck for a new partner, but then a startled laugh slipped through Yang’s lips.

“Thanks, I think?”

That was a not-horrible response, so Blake bobbed her head and tapped her fingers on the desk.  Anything else she said right now would probably make matters worse, so she stayed quiet.  Thankfully, Yang saved them both from what could be the most uncomfortable group project in the history of group projects by speaking up.

“So…any idea what we should pick?”

“I’m fine with anything, as long as it’s not the new AchieveMen album.”  

Yang chuckled and glanced at the backpack by her feet, so Blake followed her gaze and belatedly noticed the AchieveMen patch stuck on the strap.

“You don’t like the AchieveMen?” Yang asked as Blake’s cheeks searched for a new shade of red.

“Oh, well, they’re…fine.”  Blake scrunched her nose.  “It’s just not my type of music.”

“Fair.”  Yang drummed her metal fingers against the table, creating a thick, hearty thump that matched Blake’s rapid heartbeat.  “Well, we can pick something popular now, but I bet other groups will pick the same thing, or we can try to come up with something unique.  What do you think?  You seem like a unique kind of girl.”

Yang winked with the comment, wiping every thought or musing from Blake’s mind.

“I think so,” Blake said before clearing her throat and adding, “I think a unique topic would be fun.”

“Got it.”  Yang narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips.  If this was one of Blake’s books, Blake could comment on how tempting Yang’s lips looked or suggest a project that gave away the attraction sparking through her veins.  “Anything you really liked when you were a kid?” Yang asked, picking a pure topic that dragged Blake’s thoughts from the gutter.

“Um…well…I used to watch this show about a dog and cat who go on adventures -”

“Paws and Whiskers??” Yang gasped, her smile brightening when Blake’s brow rose.  “I loved that show!  Watched it every day after school.  Who’d you like more - Paws or Whiskers?”

“I wasn’t a huge fan of Paws…”

“But he’s so cute though with his little eye patch and mismatched socks!”  Yang made an adorable motion with her hands before chuckling at Blake’s wrinkled nose.  “Ok, so you’re Team Whiskers.  Or should I say Team Cute, Kissable Noses?”

“Only if you’re Team Smells Like Wet Grass.”  The moment Yang’s grin fell and she tilted her nose down to sniff her shoulder, Blake blushed and added, “You smell great though.  Like cinnamon and oranges.  Not that I’m smelling you or anything…”  Blake trailed off then shook her head and forced a smile.  “So, Paws and Whiskers.  I’m sure it had a huge impact on society.”

“You never know!  We both remember it.”  Brushing past the whole ‘wet grass’ remark, Yang leaned back in her chair and smiled.  “And cultural influence might be easy - the human characters wore the classiest clothes.  I could write five pages about the outfits alone.”

“Sounds like something a fashion major would say,” Blake remarked with a soft chuckle.

“What if I am a fashion major?” Yang replied, waggling her brow.

“Then I should’ve taken this class pass-fail,” Blake joked.  Before she could even consider congratulating herself on the vaguely witty remark, however, her smile dropped when Yang’s did.  

“Ah, well.”  Yang tapped the tip of her pen on her notebook before shaking her head and chuckling to herself.  “I’m double majoring in business and minoring in psychology, so don’t worry.  Your grade’s safe with me.”

Blake’s mouth dropped into a perfect ‘o’ when Yang smiled at her.

“So you’re actually a genius?” she blurted out, but Yang laughed and shook her head again.

“I wouldn't say ‘genius.’  There’s just…a lot I want to learn.”  Yang shrugged - an adorable yet alluring gesture in her fitted top - before returning that lilac gaze to Blake.  “What about you?  What’re you studying?”

“I’m, uh, foreign relations.  Studying it, I mean.”

“That’s cool.  Why’d you choose that?”

“I guess I’m just…interested in working with other cultures, and thought it’d be a way to make positive changes in the world.”

“You seem like the type who could do that.  I’d vote for you.”  

Yang added a genuine smile that melted Blake’s heart.  So, of course, Blake responded by staring until Yang cleared her throat and looked at her notebook.  

“So Paws and Whiskers?  I’m sure we weren’t the only impressionable minds influenced by that show.”

“‘Where friendship is the greatest adventure,’” Blake recalled.  Yang beamed and nodded.

“Maybe you can look up stuff for Whiskers and I’ll look into Paws?  Since I’m the only fan of wet grass around here.”  Yang grinned and playfully nudged Blake’s elbow, so Blake blushed again.  “And I know you probably think it’s dumb, but I’ll look into the costume design too.  There has to be something cool we can point out in the clothes.  Paws’ little jacket could’ve been a fashion statement!”

“I don’t think that’s dumb.”  When Yang hummed and wrote down their fledgling decisions, Blake gaped for several seconds before feeling compelled to add, “And I don’t think you’re dumb.  I mean, you’re obviously smarter than me.”

“There are different types of smart,” Yang replied, finishing her note and giving Blake a friendly, forgiving smile.  

As if Yang wasn’t already blatantly attractive, that smile sent Blake’s heart skittering from her chest to the nearest trash can.  Before another apology - or something even more embarrassing - escaped her mouth, Professor Oobleck clapped his hands for the room’s attention.

“That’s all our time today, students!  We’ll pick up on Thursday.”

He hardly finished speaking before students were preparing to leave, suddenly in a rush to go home or get to their next class.  Blake looked at Yang, who looked right back at her, before grabbing her notebook and hugging it to her chest as if that might keep her heart in place.

“Thank you.”  

Yang’s brow creased, but Blake was already rushing up the steps so that she could grab her bag.  She wanted to hide under a desk until her blush faded or until the semester ended, whichever came first.  Instead, she stuffed her notebook into her bag and impatiently waited for Weiss to do the same.

“You’re right,” Weiss said while slowly packing her things.  “This will be a nice break.  And Velvet’s smart - working with her will be easy.”  Weiss slung her bag over her shoulder and looked at Blake.  “How’d things go with the blonde beauty?”

“Peachy.  I accidentally insulted her taste in music, commented on how she smells, and looked down her shirt a dozen times.  But other than that, just great.”  

When Weiss’ brow rose, Blake sighed and motioned for Weiss to follow her out of the room.  Unfortunately, Yang was still waiting for her friend to pack up, and she was waiting right by the door.  The moment her lilac gaze landed on Blake, Blake ducked her head and stared at the floor.

“See you Thursday,” Yang called out anyway, adding a small smile and wave when Blake risked a glance at her.

“Yeah, see you,” Blake mumbled before ushering Weiss into the hall.  Once they were a safe distance away, most of Blake’s composure returned like a turbulent ship finding calmer seas or a flustered girl being removed from the source of those flusters.

“She seems friendly,” Weiss commented as they left the building.

“She is.  She’s also a double major and minor, yet I implied that she’s dumb since she’s studying fashion.”

Weiss arched a brow and waited for Blake to say that that was a joke.  When Blake solemnly nodded instead, Weiss laughed.

“You called her dumb?”

“I implied it,” Blake corrected.  “...just like I implied she likes the smell of wet grass and wears low-cut tops so people stare at her beautiful chest.”

“Wow.”  While Blake’s blush returned, Weiss smiled and shook her head.  “When have you ever had a problem talking to someone?”

“I don’t have a problem talking to her.  I have a problem saying the most embarrassing things at the most embarrassing times.”

Blake chewed her bottom lip trying to figure out where she went wrong, but Weiss chuckled to herself.

“You’re right.  This will be fun.”

Blake agreed in many ways but disagreed in the way that Weiss meant.  Mortally embarrassing herself in front of a gorgeous, intelligent classmate who she now had to work on a project with for the next month wasn’t ‘fun.’  Just thinking about the ‘metal arm’ comment made her stomach drop just as precipitously as when the moment happened.  And she didn’t even want to remember the ‘you’re so hard’ fiasco.

Yang had taken it all in stride.  So, not only was she beautiful, smart, and funny, but she was also easy-going and forgiving.  Those were ideal qualities in any person, yet Yang combined them in an irresistible, magnetic package that, despite Blake’s horrible first impression, made it impossible not to be excited for the next class.

Blake was so excited, in fact, that she arrived earlier than Weiss, who was practically famous for showing up early.  Approaching the room, she gently reminded herself to think before she spoke.  She wouldn't let her dumb side take control…even though Yang had the body of a goddess and the personality of everyone’s perfect best friend.  

Expecting a mostly empty classroom, Blake strolled in without a second thought.  The second thought arrived when she discovered that Yang was already there, sitting at her desk, reading a magazine.  Blake quickly decided not to bother her.  What Blake didn’t decide to do was trip over the trash can and fling her bag onto the floor while flailing her arms to catch herself.  

She didn’t fall, but the contents of her bag scattered everywhere while her foot somehow ended up in the trash can.  Of course, this all happened right in front of Yang, who was already hurrying to help.

“You ok?”  Yang lightly touched Blake’s elbow, her caring lilac gaze briefly meeting Blake’s before searching for injuries.  Blake’s heart, which had already lodged in her throat, refused to settle down now that she could smell Yang’s cinnamon and orange shampoo and feel those gentle fingers on her arm.

“I’m ok,” Blake mustered before clearing her throat and stepping out of the trash can.  “Physically, at least…” she muttered under her breath while pushing the waste basket back to the door.

“Let me help,” Yang said as soon as Blake stooped down to collect her things.  

Blake might have protested if her cheeks weren’t burning and her mind wasn’t reeling in embarrassment.  Her staunch refusal to use her bag’s zipper came back to bite her as Yang picked up pens and feminine products alike, yet none of those received the hesitation reserved for the paperback novel with a creased spine.  

If Blake could dissolve into thin air, now was the perfect time to do so.  Instead, she remained frustratingly solid as Yang looked at the two busty women locked in a passionate kiss on the cover.  Watching Yang’s smooth metal fingers wrap around the spine did nothing for Blake’s teetering heart, but Yang didn’t comment on the reading material - she just returned everything with a small, if not entertained, smile.

“Thanks.”  Blake shoved everything into her bag, wishing that she could fit herself in there and disappear as well.  Instead, she stood up - Yang matched the action - and threw on a smile.  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to distract you from your magazine.”

When Blake motioned to the magazine on Yang’s desk, Yang glanced at it and chuckled.

“You mean my textbook for Advanced Fashion Illustration and Portfolio Development?”  

Yang grabbed the book off of the desk and held it up so that Blake could see that what looked like a magazine was actually a thin textbook with various outfits on the cover.

“Yes,” she said, her voice strained.  “That’s what I meant.”

Unbothered by the misconception, Yang smiled and leaned back against the front of the desk.  Her gaze flitted to someone who walked behind Blake but quickly returned, seeming content to extend the misery.

“Excited to learn more about pop culture today?” she asked, one of her long legs dangling gracefully off the floor while her arms rested across her lap.  Blake nodded, but then her gaze betrayed her.  Her eyes traveled down Yang’s prosthetic arm before moving up her natural one, sweeping across her low-cut top, and finally returning to lilac eyes. 

“Oh, hold up.”  

While Blake blinked in surprise, Yang leaned across the desk and grabbed the jacket off of her chair.  Next, she shrugged it over her shoulders and tugged the zipper up as high as it would go.  Blake started shaking her head, but Yang motioned for her to wait before pulling gloves out of the pocket and slipping one over her prosthetic hand.  “There,” she finally said, grinning as Blake’s mortification returned.  “Good?  Or are my pants too revealing today?”  

Yang teasingly turned around and flipped up the bottom of her jacket, but Blake bit her bottom lip and stared at Yang’s ass for a second too long.  That extra second gave Yang time to notice, and for an amused smile to slip onto alluring lips.

“Are they?” 

“Of course not!”  Blake’s laugh was a high-pitched sound that was nothing like her regular laugh.  “There’s, uh, nothing wrong with your -”  Her gaze flitted to Yang’s butt before moving away just as quickly.  “They’re great.  You fill them out really nice.”

This time, Yang bit back laughter while Blake internally groaned.

“I’m just going to -”  Blake gestured to her seat and backed away, silently hoping that she accidentally stepped into a hole leading to the center of the earth.  Yang, however, watched her every step of the way, lilac eyes sparkling and smile still in place.

“Maybe we’ll get to work on our project more today.”

“Yeah.  Maybe.  Possibly.”

Single-word sentences would impress no one, so Blake spun around and raced to the sanctuary of her desk.  Yang’s gaze followed her, but she made sure not to look back.  She stared at her desk instead, then at her bag as she meticulously placed her materials in front of her.  She had everything set in perfect perpendicular angles by the time Weiss dropped her bag onto the next seat.

“You ok?  You look a little flushed.”

“This is just what I’m going to look like from now on…” Blake mumbled, earning an arched brow before Weiss let it go and prepared for class.  Blake only risked a glance at Yang when the orange-haired girl, who seemed to be a close friend, arrived.  The two exchanged some words and laughter, but Blake turned away the instant the other girl looked her way.  

Was it a coincidental glance or did Yang say something?  Maybe she mentioned how Blake klutzed her way into the trash can.  Or the well-worn romance novel.  Or the blatant ass-staring…

“Hey, Weiss?” she asked, unable to tear her gaze away when Yang laughed.  “Staring at someone’s ass is a compliment, right?”

“Depends on who’s staring.”

Blake’s brow furrowed, but Professor Oobleck’s whirlwind entrance halted any chance for clarification.  He slammed his briefcase into every possible surface on his way from the door to his desk, nearly spilled his cup of coffee by trying to set it down where there was no table, and then launched into his lecture as if none of that was surprising.

An interesting, insightful lecture was just what Blake needed to forget her embarrassment.  Of course, she still snuck plenty of glances Yang’s way in the midst of taking notes on how early media influenced societal progress.  Yang also took notes, listened intently, and shared several jokes or quiet comments with her friend.

If Blake could pride herself on one thing, it was that she didn’t get caught staring again.  Every time Yang turned so much as an inch Blake’s way, Blake made sure her eyes stuck to Professor Oobleck like glue.  Just as she congratulated herself on her mental fortitude, however, Professor Oobleck announced that they could use the last half hour of class for their projects.  

A sense of impending doom - or encroaching humiliation - joined butterflies when Yang swiveled around and smiled at her.  “Here goes nothing,” she breathed out, much to Weiss’ amusement, as she grabbed her notebook and made her way down to the front of the class.

“Welcome back,” Yang greeted Blake as the orange-haired girl popped out of her seat.

“Kept it warm for you!”

“This is Nora,” Yang explained, to which Nora grinned and saluted.  “It was her idea to take this class.”

“And you’re already thanking me for it, aren’t you.”  Nora winked and elbowed Yang’s side, earning a playful shush, before grabbing her notebook and skipping across the room to her partner.

“Don’t mind her.”  Yang shooed away her friend and patted the vacated chair, which Blake perched on as if it were covered in needles.  “That color looks great on you, by the way.”

“Oh.”  A different kind of blush raced onto Blake’s cheeks as she looked down at her dark purple sweater.  “Thank you.”

A girlish squealing filled Blake’s mind as Yang bobbed her head and flipped her notebook to a clean page.  Blake, meanwhile, scrambled for a reciprocal compliment.

“Your hair looks nice today.”  When Yang looked up and smiled, Blake blurted out, “Like golden ropes I could tie myself up in.”

Just like that, Yang’s smile morphed into confusion.

“Huh?”

“Your hair’s very bright,” Blake corrected so loudly that the group beside them stopped talking and stared, but she was far more concerned about Yang’s pinched brow.  “Kind of like a spotlight or…the sun…but anyway, are you from Vale?” 

After squinting for another second, probably wondering if Blake needed professional help, Yang shook her head.

“Naw.  I moved here for school.  I’m loving the big city though.”

“You’re from a small town then?  Like where…Patch?”  Blake laughed, but her laughter faded when Yang’s brow furrowed.  “You’re from Patch, aren’t you.”  When Yang slowly nodded, Blake grimaced and stood up.  “Excuse me for a second?”

Without waiting for an answer, Blake rushed back up the steps under the auspices of needing something from her bag.  What she actually needed, of course, was a new brain and some guidance.

“Weiss,” she whispered, shooting an apologetic smile to Weiss’ partner before crouching beside Weiss’ chair.  “What do I do?  I literally can’t say anything without insulting her.  She must hate me already.”

“It’s only the second day of class.”

“So you could say I’m overachieving in how thoroughly I’m insulting her.”

“You remember what a compliment sounds like, don’t you?” Weiss asked, her tone and smile somewhere between ‘amused’ and ‘loving this more than anything in the world.’  “‘You look nice.’  ‘That color's great on you.’  That type of thing?”

“I told her that her hair looks nice,” Blake said before lowering her voice and adding, “Then I told her I’d like to tie myself up in it.”

Weiss choked back a laugh.

“You what?”

“Shut up,” Blake sighed, grabbing a random pen from her bag before pushing herself to her feet and returning to Yang.  “Sorry about that,” she told Yang while sitting down.  “She gets…needy.”

Blake waved dismissively in Weiss’ direction, and Yang’s curious gaze followed.

“Friend?”

“And roommate,” Blake explained.  Yang nodded, filed away that information, then beamed - melting Blake’s heart in the process.

“Did you look up any Whiskers stuff?”

“I did.”  

“And?”

“And apparently, Paws and Whiskers was more influential than I thought.”

“Right??”  

Yang beamed and, from there, they settled into an easier rhythm of discussing the children’s show.  As long as Blake stayed on topic, she found remarkable success in avoiding unfortunate comments.  Her thoughts still strayed whenever Yang laughed - her nose crinkled so adorably and her eyes sparkled like diamonds - or whenever Yang leaned over to jot a note, offering a glimpse down her top that Blake avoided only half of the time, or when Yang casually bumped Blake’s shoulder with a joke.  But, despite those ever-present distractions, Blake kept every inappropriate comment inside.

For several blissful moments, Blake thought that she had redeemed herself.  Then the end of class rolled around, everyone started collecting their belongings, and she didn’t race to her desk like a soldier running from mortar fire.  She flipped her notebook shut and drummed her fingers on the cover, then pulled it against her chest and slowly pushed her chair back.

“That was fun,” Yang commented, as friendly and easygoing as ever.

“It was, but I’m sure you’re always a good time.”  As soon as Blake heard the words out loud, and Yang responded with a surprised laugh, she sighed and shook her head.  “Sorry, that sounded much less suggestive in my head.”

“Don’t worry about it.”  Yang glanced around before leaning closer, lowering her voice, and asking, “You mean the kind of ‘good time’ those ladies are having in your book, right?”

“Oh, I -”  A blush rushed onto Blake’s cheeks and deepened when Yang winked.  “That’s not -”  When Nora returned, Blake glanced at her, cleared her throat, and said, “Uh, I’ll see you later.”

Now she heard the mortar fire - though it sounded suspiciously like delighted laughter following her back to the relative safety of her desk.  “How’d it go?” Weiss asked as they prepared to leave, so Blake glanced at Yang, who caught the look and winked, before turning back to Weiss and grasping for words.

“I just made an absolute fool of myself.”

Slinging her bag over one shoulder, Weiss glanced at Yang before studying Blake.

“Are you sure you aren’t just reading into things too much?”

Blake scrunched up her face searching for any way that might be true before shaking her head.  “I just called her a ‘good time.’”  The way Weiss’ blue eyes slowly widened convinced Blake to brush past the memory and grab her things.  “Let’s just get out of here,” she mumbled before leading Weiss out of the classroom.  Yang still waved, so Blake waved back before making it outside and taking a deep breath.

“Ok, I’m going to be normal next time.”

“‘Normal,’” Weiss huffed as they left.  “Wait until she finds out about your obsession with romance novels.”

“Well, lucky for me, she already knows about those.”

“You told her??”

“I didn’t tell her.  She saw the one I have in my bag.  And then commented on it.”  As Weiss’ brow steadily rose, Blake shook her head.  “But it’s fine.  You know why?”

“Because you’re dropping the class and withdrawing from school?”

“No,” Blake said, glaring as Weiss laughed.  “Because now I know that I have to be extra alert around her.  Starting next class, I’ll be the model of poise.”

Weiss chuckled to herself and said something about how ‘This class was supposed to be easy’ as they made their way back to their apartment.  Blake, however, had more pressing matters to think about than her roommate’s abundant enjoyment of her predicament.  If she wanted to make a good impression on Yang, which she did, then she needed to get her ‘high school crush’ energy under control and remember how to act like an adult.

But acting like an adult didn’t mean that she couldn't daydream about Yang over the next few days.  The daydream version of her engaged in intelligent conversation, witty banter, and subtle yet classy bits of flattery.  They would laugh and flirt until Yang eventually paused the conversation to ask her out.  Or, a sign that she did read too many romance novels, Yang would sweep her off of her feet and kiss her in front of the whole class.

Once the new week arrived, she shoved all of those musings into a little box and pushed that box to the back of her mind.  She would not make a fool of herself today, so she needed to distance herself from those romantic plotlines.  She would be calm, cool, collected, and, in the interest of keeping her mouth from spoiling her new image, aloof.   

She only made it a step inside the classroom before realizing that her new mission would be harder than expected.  Yang was already there, leaning against her desk, looking gorgeous and leggy in her short white shorts and bright yellow sneakers.  Blake’s eyes slid across smooth legs and toned calves before she averted her gaze, gave the trash can a wide berth, and tried to slip by without notice.  

“Oh, Blake!”  Yang almost immediately pushed herself away from the desk, compelling Blake to turn around and witness the first bright smile of the day.  “Hey, good morning,” Yang added now that she had Blake’s attention, eyes sparkling as if she’d been waiting for this moment all weekend.

Blake, on the other hand, mulled over several responses before replying with a succinct, “Good morning.”

She wanted to add something else, and Yang’s beam suggested the restrained answer didn’t go unnoticed.

“You like this hat?”  Yang tipped the bill of her white baseball cap, which her long, blonde ponytail had been pulled through.  The hat went perfectly with her fitted top and ripped shorts, highlighting many of her enviable attributes, but Blake held her tongue and nodded rather than attempt a response. 

“What about these shorts?”  Yang’s grin widened as she turned to the side, flaunting her butt and toned leg muscles.  “Too much?  Too little?”  

Blake’s cheeks flushed as Yang fingered the frayed threads on the bottom of her shorts, drawing attention to the glimpses of her upper thigh offered by generous rips.  Blake had read chapters upon chapters describing such fleeting glances of untouchable skin as the worst form of torture, and she decided that she agreed.  It wasn’t just that Yang was tall - she was also fit and willing to flaunt it.

“You have nice legs,” Blake blurted out before scampering up the stairs so fast that she tripped on one of the steps and nearly fell flat on her face.  Fortunately, she caught her balance just in the nick of time and hurried to her desk as if nothing happened.

In the grand scheme of things, ‘you have nice legs’ was the closest that she had come to a genuine, normal compliment.  The delivery left much to be desired, but incremental progress was still progress.  Progress towards what, she had no idea anymore.  All she knew was that she had dug a hole that kept getting deeper.

While Blake plotted new means of escaping her self-induced humiliation, Weiss arrived steeped in her typical aura of owning every room she set foot in.  Most people shied away from interacting with the surface-deep attitude, yet Yang thought nothing of jumping to her feet and gesturing for Weiss’ attention.  Weiss paused, looking just as curious as Blake felt while watching the interaction from afar.

Yang only needed a few words to change Weiss’ curiosity to amusement.  Weiss even blessed Yang with a nod, and Yang beamed while handing over a slip of paper.  The conversation ended there, so Blake busied herself with flipping open her notebook and impatiently waiting for Weiss to reach her.  Of course, Weiss insisted on wearing heels everywhere, so she took her sweet time trekking to her seat.

“What were you and Yang talking about?” Blake asked before Weiss could even set her bag down.  Weiss shook her head at the greeting but dropped the slip of paper on top of Blake’s notebook.

“She asked me to give you this.”

The paper was in Blake’s hands before Weiss could even pull out her chair.  After sneaking a glance at Yang, who was watching now, Blake unfolded the paper and discovered a few simple words written in Yang’s curly handwriting:

“Thanks, I grew them myself.”

A cute little winking face accompanied the note, which reignited Blake’s blush in no time.  Biting her bottom lip, she looked up and caught another wink - this one paired with a bright, infectious smile.  A smile snuck onto Blake’s lips and remained there even after Nora bounded into the room and stole Yang’s attention.  

She was still embarrassed - she’d never told anyone that they had nice legs before, let alone someone that she was unabashedly attracted to - yet she didn’t care as much anymore.  Yang’s levity and general enjoyment of their time together mattered more than a bushel full of ‘foot in mouth’ comments…and perhaps she was building up a resistance to feeling shame.

The next few classes only further cemented her newfound tolerance for actively embarrassing herself in Yang’s presence.  Yang started every class by asking for Blake’s opinion on her outfit, which always ventured towards immodest in one way or another, and Blake responded in one of two ways: thudding banality or the weirdest, most suggestive comments she’d ever made in her life.  She would then run to her seat like she was running out of oxygen, daydream about the appropriate response through Professor Oobleck’s lecture, then apologize before they began work on their project.

If she could hang her hat on anything, it was her ability to break a children’s show into easy-to-swallow morsels.  Those were the moments where she showed that she was a functioning member of society - albeit a functioning member of society who had a bit of a staring problem whenever Yang moved or flexed in just the right way.  In Blake’s defense, Yang always wore low-cut tops and had a habit of leaning over to grab pens, notebooks, or spare sheets of paper from her bag.  While she rummaged around, it was only natural that Blake’s gaze dropped, and even more natural to notice how perfectly round and smooth - 

“Found it!”

As soon as Yang sat up, a new pen clutched in her metal grip, Blake leaned back and plastered on a neutral expression.  Fortunately, Yang seemed none the wiser as she tossed her old pen into the trash can and returned to writing.  Her tongue darted across her lips while her pen flashed across the notebook, laying down quick notes that soon became a full-fledged outline.

“How’s that look?”  Yang turned the notebook so that Blake could read it, then grinned when she caught Blake staring at her rather than at their work.  “Like what you see?”

“Yes,” Blake admitted before quickly clearing her throat and motioning to the notebook.  “I mean, it looks like everything’s here.  Should we divide it in half and start writing?”

“Sure.”  Yang drew a line midway through the outline and then looked at Blake, eyes still sparkling.  “You want top or bottom?”

A response sprang to the tip of Blake’s tongue, and she nearly choked from the effort of keeping it from springing from her lips.

“Your choice,” she managed, earning a pleased hum as Yang wrote Blake’s name at the top of the page and then her own at the bottom.

“I’ll let you be on top,” Yang concluded with a playful wink and delighted smile.  

If there was ever any moment for Blake to spontaneously combust, that was it.  Instead, her thoughts veered straight off a cliff and descended into every cliche or racy storyline she had ever read.  While she struggled for words, however, Yang chuckled to herself and copied the outline onto a second page.  She tore this one out and slid it to Blake, who set both hands on it and opened her mouth as if she had something witty to say.

“Ok, students!” Professor Oobleck interrupted, likely saving her from scheduling the first one-way trip to the sun.  “You have a couple weeks left, so make sure you’re starting to put things together,” he said while the class prepared to leave.  Blake glanced at Yang, who smiled, before doing what she did best: blushing and retreating to the furthest reaches of the room.

“Can you believe how fast the semester’s going?” Weiss commented as they gathered their things.  When Blake offered a distracted hum, Weiss stopped and smirked at her.  “Yet you still can’t talk to her.”

“I can talk to her just fine.”  When Weiss arched a brow, Blake sighed and slung her bag over one shoulder.  “It’s what I say that’s the problem…”

With Weiss still chuckling at the situation, the two of them followed the flow of students out of the room.  Blake had learned to expect a ‘goodbye’ from Yang, who was always caught waiting for Nora to finish up a conversation with someone else in class.  Just as she braced herself for the typical sendoff, however, Yang caught sight of her and popped to her feet.

“Hey,” she said, motioning Blake over.  Blake’s feet responded as if Yang waved a magic wand, and Weiss trailed behind like someone determined not to miss a show.  “Hey, Weiss,” Yang greeted the girl as if they were old friends.  “I love that bag.  Is it from the fall collection?”

“Oh.”  Weiss looked down at her bag before saying, “It is.”

“It goes great with your shoes.”

“Thank you.”

While Weiss preened at the praise, Blake glanced at the bag in question, which looked like any of the hundreds of bags that Weiss owned, before turning her attention to Yang.  Yang smiled at her - one of those cute, friendly smiles that Blake adored - and gently tapped her elbow.

“Hey, so I was thinking - maybe we should watch the show together before we start writing.  You know…make sure we aren’t missing anything?  You could come over to my place and we can order some takeout or something - make a date of it.”

“A date?” Blake repeated, her voice rising an octave as Yang ran a hand through her hair.

“Yeah, you know, agreeing to meet up at a certain time and place?”

“Oh, right.  Of course.”  Blake’s laughter sounded strained, so she quickly shut it down and cleared her throat.  “Sure.  Sounds nice.  I’m free whenever you want me.”  When Weiss covered a snicker with one hand, Blake hurriedly added, “- to come over.  I’m free whenever you want me to come over.”

Blake knew better than to look at Weiss right now - not that she wanted to look at Weiss when a delighted smile crept onto Yang’s lips. 

“Great.”  Yang quickly wrote something in her notebook before tearing it out.  “Here’s my number,” she explained, prompting Blake to cradle the paper like it might dissolve into ashes.  “Just text me a time and day, and I’ll get everything else ready.”

“Yeah.  Absolutely.  I can do that.”

“Can you…?” Weiss muttered under her breath, earning an elbow in the side while Blake smiled at Yang.

“I’ll see you this weekend then?”

“Absolutely.  Looking forward to it.”

“Me too.”

Still beaming like a fool, Blake backed away only to stumble when her foot landed on something at the same time that Weiss yelped in pain.  “Sorry,” she said, grimacing when Weiss shot her a dismayed look.  Before making matters worse, she flashed Yang a smile and dragged Weiss out of the room.

“‘I’m free whenever you want me?’” Weiss teased the second they were out of earshot.  “You’re just throwing yourself at her now.”

“Don’t remind me…”

“She doesn’t seem to mind though.”

That comment got Blake’s attention, and her steps faltered as she studied Weiss for hints of another tease.

“You really think so?”

“Of course.  Why else is she all bright and shiny while you’re suggesting that you’d like to role play a romance novel?”

“I would not -”  Blake’s mouth failed her before the lie came out, leaving her mind wandering through the scenarios that she would love to cast Yang in.  Weiss rolled her eyes at the sudden silence but, rather than point out the absurdity of it, gestured to the slip of paper clutched in Blake’s hand like a winning lottery ticket.  

“Are you going to frame that?”  

“No, because that would be weird,” Blake huffed.  She then destroyed any self-respect she had left by sniffing the paper, causing Weiss’ brow to lift, before shoving it into her pocket.  “I’ll just put it in my phone then toss it,” she added with a nonchalant wave.

“Sure you will…” 

Disregarding Weiss’ obvious disbelief, Blake focused on more pressing issues.  Yang had invited her on a ‘date’ that wasn’t a date, but she would still fret and prepare as if it was a date.  She needed to come up with acceptable topics of conversation in advance - preferably, topics immune to sexual innuendo.  Most importantly, she needed something incredible to wear.

“Want to go shopping?” she asked Weiss as they headed back to their apartment.

Weiss briefly arched a brow and then laughed.  “Don’t tell me - you’re going to buy a new outfit for your not-date?”

“Will you help or not?”

“Of course I will.  I need a new bag.”

“She commented on it once and you have to buy a new one?”

“I don’t make the rules, Blake,” Weiss sighed, ‘sadly’ shaking her head at her plight.  Blake rolled her eyes but let it go - she had more important things on her mind, like seeing Yang outside of class, going to Yang’s apartment, spending an evening watching a show together…there would be endless possibilities to embarrass herself.

First, she went home and carefully entered Yang’s number in her phone, which she checked half a dozen times before stashing the piece of paper in a safe location.  She then spent a solid thirty minutes crafting the perfect message, forcing Weiss to listen to miniscule changes in word placement and punctuation before pressing send.  Yang responded almost immediately, and their not-date was set.

Despite the frequent teasing, Blake was grateful for Weiss’ help finding something to wear.  As Yang had noticed, and Blake knew but often forgot about, Weiss was way more well-versed in the fashion world.  Blake usually went for a combination of stylish and functional, but she wanted something that caught Yang’s attention.  After spending several hours at the mall trying on every outfit that Weiss threw at her, she found the perfect outfit.

At least, Weiss assured her that she had the perfect outfit, but her confidence steadily dissolved as she crossed campus in dark, clinging jeans and a snug white top, a new bag slung over one shoulder and her heart beating faster than normal.  Of course, Weiss conveniently decided to go to the library at the same time, her high heels clicking across the pathway in lockstep with Blake’s less audible footsteps.

“I still think you should’ve worn heels,” Weiss commented for the tenth time.  “Then you’d be almost as tall as her.”

“What if I like that she’s taller than me…” Blake muttered under her breath, but Weiss glanced at her and laughed.

“I see.”  Weiss chewed over her next words before smirking.  “Should I expect you home tonight or will this be an all-night affair?”

“God, don’t even.”  Blake shook the tempting thought out of her head while Weiss laughed.  “We’re watching a show so we can work on our project.  That’s it.”

“I’m sure you wouldn't be opposed to it though…”  Blake shushed Weiss, who chuckled and resituated the strap of her brand new handbag on her shoulder.  “I guess you’ll know soon enough,” she added, nodding to the student apartment building up ahead.  

Blake had passed the building hundreds of times and never thought much of it.  Tonight, her eyes scanned every window as if she might find one bearing Yang’s name.  She found something even better: Yang herself, golden hair vibrant despite the fading sunlight, leaning against the building outside of the entrance.  Her relaxed posture, one knee slightly bent while her hands rested in her pockets, suggested none of the jittering nerves coursing through Blake’s veins.  She was busy though - her attention occupied by a spry brunette who bounced on her toes and gestured with both hands while speaking.  

“Who’s that?” Weiss asked as she and Blake drew nearer.

“No idea,” Blake admitted, stopping a comfortable distance away to wait for the conversation to end.  Yang caught sight of her, however, and beamed while waving her over.

“Hey!”  Yang’s lilac gaze, which normally did such a good job of keeping eye contact, slipped down Blake’s body before snapping back up.  “Wow.  You look…”  Blake held her breath waiting for the verdict, but Yang cleared her throat and glanced at the brunette.  “This is Ruby!  Ruby, this is Blake.  We’re working on a project together.”  

“Ohhh.”  Ruby’s striking silver eyes sparkled as an upbeat smile graced her lips.  “You’re Pop Culture Blake!  Yang’s mentioned you.”

“Nothing bad,” Yang interjected.

“Of course not!”  Ruby waved both hands in front of her before giggling, drawing Yang’s playful glare while Blake looked between them.  She opened her mouth, wanting to ask what Yang said about her, only to be sidetracked by Weiss clearing her throat.

“Oh.  This is Weiss.”

Blake motioned to Weiss, who dipped her chin and smiled at Ruby, who smiled back with the strength of a thousand suns.

“We’re roommates,” Weiss explained with a casual motion to Blake.  “I’m also in their Pop Culture class, but you’d never know from how little they notice.”

“You mean they aren’t the only two people there?” Ruby replied, her eyes still sparkling as she and Weiss shared a laugh.  Blake’s cheeks warmed, but she pushed past her rising blush with a soft clear of her throat.  

“Weiss is on her way to the library, so she can’t stay.”

“Ruby’s on her way out, too,” Yang added, wrapping an arm around Ruby’s shoulders and tugging her close.  “She needs to hit the gym if she wants to keep looking like a supermodel.”

“Yang…” Ruby whined while halfheartedly struggling out of Yang’s grasp.

“It’s true though!  You know it’s true.  Come on, let me hear you say it.”

Ruby giggled and squirmed when Yang tickled her side, but Blake bit her lip and glanced at Weiss, who arched a brow at the familiar display.  “Cute,” Weiss concluded, and Blake latched onto the word like a lifeline.

“Definitely cute,” she agreed, masking disappointment behind a forcibly upbeat tone.  “If Vale U. had a ‘cutest couple’ award, I’d vote for you two.”

Yang and Ruby froze in unison, then tilted their heads in unison.

“‘Cutest couple?’” Yang repeated before looking at Ruby.  The two of them then dissolved into laughter, and Blake’s brow hardly furrowed before Yang patted Ruby’s shoulder and said, “We’re sisters.”

Blake’s cheeks warmed at the worst faux pas someone could commit, but Weiss looked moderately relieved by the response.  “You don’t look much alike,” she even commented.

“Yeah, your mom must’ve been really adventurous,” Blake tagged on.

“‘Adventurous,’” Yang repeated, redoubling her laughter while Blake mentally kicked herself and Weiss looked at her incredulously. 

“We have different moms,” Ruby pointed out.  

“Right.”  Despite her internal screaming, Blake nodded and kept talking.  “That’s nice.  So you kind of have two moms.”

“Actually…my mom left us when I was two,” Yang admitted.

“And my mom’s dead,” Ruby added.  “So really we have like…no moms.”

When they shared a pensive look, Blake gaped like a fish out of water.  Words existed somewhere in the universe, but none of them floated anywhere near her lips.  Because what could she possibly say to that other than ‘I’m so sorry’ or ‘Please push me off the nearest cliff’?

“Can you excuse us for a second?”  Coming to the rescue, Weiss held up one finger before wrapping an arm through Blake’s and dragging her away.

“Wow,” Weiss whispered while Blake searched the sky for any lightning bolts that she could stand under.  “That was…”  Weiss shook her head rather than point out that Blake managed to bring up childhood trauma and imply that their mothers were floozies in two short breaths.

“Do you have a knife you can stab me with?” Blake asked when no lightning bolts appeared.

“Sorry, left all the knives at home.”  When Blake sighed, Weiss’ gaze flitted to the two girls waiting by the door.  Blake could only imagine what they were talking about now - and if it wasn’t her shockingly bad first impression, she would willingly cross the highway blindfolded.

“Ruby’s cute though…” Weiss mused while Blake silently wallowed.  “I wonder if she’s seeing anyone.”  The comment hardly registered in Blake’s mind before Weiss turned to her and added, “Will you ask?”

“If she’s seeing someone?”  When Weiss nodded, seemingly unconcerned about being associated with the girl who just brought up Ruby’s dead mother, Blake’s brow rose.  “You want to date Yang’s sister?” Blake clarified, her surprise increasing when Weiss shrugged. 

“She has a cute laugh, and her eyes do that sparkling thing when she smiles…”  Weiss trailed off, her gaze sneaking to Ruby in a look that would have stunned Blake weeks ago but was now just a continuation of impossible things happening in Yang’s presence.  “I want to know if it’s an option, I guess,” Weiss concluded as her gaze returned to Blake.

“I’ll try,” Blake agreed, and Weiss actually smiled.

“Thank you.”  Weiss glanced at Ruby again before pursing her lips and peering at Blake.  “Think you’ve recovered enough to go back?”

Blake glanced at Yang, who chatted with Ruby as this random sidebar was the most normal thing in the world, and nodded.  “Really?” Weiss asked only to laugh when Blake glared at her.  “What?  That was pretty embarrassing.”

“Yet I’m ready to do it again.  That says something, right?”

“That you’re a glutton for punishment?”  When Blake rolled her eyes, Weiss chuckled and turned away.  “Alright, good luck then.  I hope you don’t bring up any more emotionally scarring memories.  And don’t forget to ask - try to get her number, too.”

Weiss subtly motioned to Ruby and waited for Blake’s scoff before waving to Yang and Ruby - or, most likely, just to Ruby - and earning two waves in return.  She then flipped her ponytail over her shoulder, clutched her bag between her side and arm, and strode away as if she knew that Ruby was watching.

Ruby was watching, but that meant less to Blake than the violet gaze trained on her from afar.  Despite her most recent humiliation, Yang’s open expression encouraged her to try again even though they both knew how that would turn out.  So, as the sound of Weiss’ heels faded away, she took a deep breath and returned to the two girls by the door.

“Sorry about that…” she began, but Yang waved off the dual-purposed apology.

“Don’t worry about it.”  Yang straightened up, her enticing height sending a blush to the tips of Blake’s ears, and smiled.  “Ready to watch some kids’ shows?”

“More than ready.”  Blake returned Yang’s smile before glancing at Ruby, who looked between them before jolting.

“Oh!  I should go.  The gym -”  Suddenly bursting with energy, Ruby gestured both thumbs over her shoulder before grinning at Blake.  “It was nice to finally meet you though!  I hope you guys have fun!  But not, like, too much fun, you know.”

Heat surged to Blake’s cheeks while Ruby giggled and dodged Yang’s playful punch then waved and literally jogged away.  The swift pace suited her better than standing did, and she disappeared without much effort at all.  Left alone with Yang, Blake slowly released a breath and looked up at the tall blonde.  Yang immediately smiled, warming Blake’s skin like a sunrise, and gestured to the door.

“Want to come in?”

When Blake nodded and tucked her bag tighter between her elbow and side, Yang opened the door with one arm and motioned her through with the other.  “Ever been here?” Yang asked as they entered the long hallway branching off in multiple directions.

“Once or twice for group projects.”

“Yeah, the study rooms are great.”  Yang’s gaze lingered on the small study rooms as they passed.  “Oh, uh, we could work down here if you want?  I just thought my place would be better.  We have a bigger TV, and it won’t be so loud.”

“I’d prefer to work in private,” Blake agreed before shooting Yang a look.  “Because we’ll want to focus on the show, obviously.”

“Obviously.”  Yang chuckled and motioned Blake to the stairwell door, which she nudged open with one shoulder and held for Blake.  “You look great by the way,” she added while leading Blake upstairs.  “You, uh, fill out those jeans nicely.”

When Yang winked, Blake couldn't decide if she wanted to blush or swoon.

“Thank you,” she muttered instead, keeping her eyes fixed on her feet so that she wouldn’t trip and knock out a tooth on the metal staircase.  Her heart might escape from how frantically Yang’s flattery made it flutter.  Even if it was only a repeat of one of Blake’s least-suave remarks, it meant that Yang looked at her butt.  And that knowledge was…electrifying.

So caught up in that feeling, she nearly walked past the door on the second floor even after Yang gestured to it.  “Hold up,” Yang had to say, lightly grabbing Blake’s elbow and motioning the right way.  Blake played it off as if it was nothing, but she could feel her grasp of her composure whittling away.  Suddenly, she wondered if she could handle being in Yang’s apartment, where Yang ate and slept and showered and changed.  Surrounded by Yang’s things, free of prying eyes or curious classmates, just the two of them and a TV show to ‘study.’

It was too late to back out now.  Yang stopped at one of the many apartments in the long hallway, opened the door, and motioned Blake inside.  “Welcome to Casa Xiao Long,” she added while following Blake into the small apartment.

Like most student housing, the apartment was minimalist and functional.  A cozy living room featured a dark gray sofa littered with bright blue throw pillows, a coffee table with coasters and a neat stack of magazines, and a television with movies stored underneath.  On the other side of the room, the kitchen hosted a collection of dishes, pans, and a plastic takeout bag sitting on the island.

“It’s nice,” Blake commented as her eyes swept around Yang’s home.  “Cleaner than I expected.”  After briefly freezing, she closed her eyes and shook her head.  “I mean, it’s nice,” she corrected.

“And clean,” Yang added, chuckling as she motioned Blake further into the room.  “Don’t worry - I’m filthy in the bedroom.”  

When Yang winked and nodded to the bedroom, the dirtiest scenarios from the dirtiest books Blake had ever read flooded her mind.  

“I’m kidding,” Yang added, grinning and nudging Blake’s arm before bumping open the bedroom door.  While Blake’s frazzled thoughts still stumbled over various ‘filthy’ scenarios, she discovered that Yang’s room was remarkably tidy.  The two beds were neatly made, the desks organized, and very little clutter could be found.

“That’s Ruby’s stuff,” Yang explained, waving away the half of the room that was slightly messier than the other.  She inched closer to Blake in the process, and Blake held her breath as Yang’s body heat licked against her skin like a warm embrace.  “‘Method madness’ is what she calls it.”

Blake’s gaze lingered on Yang’s bed for a second too long as she memorized every detail of the sunny yellow comforter and plumped-up pillows, wondering what they felt like to lay on.

“You don’t want to work in here, do you?”

“What?”  A nervous laugh slipped through Blake’s lips before she noticed the sparkle in Yang’s eyes.  It was a joke, clearly.  Obviously.  Because where would they work in here?  On Yang’s bed?  That would be…preposterous.  But she definitely wouldn't mind it…  

“Wherever is fine with me,” she hedged, noting how Yang’s smile grew. 

“Why don’t we start in the living room?  We can always move in here if we get the urge.”  

Yang’s wink suggested that she knew exactly how Blake would interpret the remark - and the blush that would ensue.  But, rather than dive into the details of what that ‘urge’ might be, Yang extended an arm towards the living room and smiled as Blake returned there with her.

Blake tried to reset her thoughts, but that was impossible when Yang’s proximity waxed and waned in a much different way than in the classroom.  In class, it took effort to accidentally brush shoulders or bump into each other’s arms.  Here, Yang’s fingertips landed lightly on Blake’s elbow to guide her to the sofa, and Yang’s hip bumped hers as they navigated the tight space between the table and the sofa’s arm, and Yang nearly clasped Blake’s hand in hers while prompting Blake to sit down.

“Hang out here a sec - I’ll grab the food.”

“Need any help?” Blake asked, but Yang shook her head and hurried to the kitchen alone.  There, she tore open the plastic bag on the counter, her metal fingers making trivial work of such thin resistance.  After grabbing some silverware and napkins, she carried everything over to the coffee table and set it in front of Blake.  

“I hope I ordered right.”

Blake opened the box, watched a wisp of steam escape, and hummed at the aroma of seafood and pasta.  “Looks delicious,” she told Yang, whose lips curled up in a playful grin.

“Are you talking about the pasta or me?”

“Oh.”  

Blake stared at the take-out box, cheeks suddenly steaming hotter than the food, while Yang chuckled and sat beside her without another word.  Their legs brushed as the cushions briefly dipped, but that heart-stopping moment ended too soon to properly enjoy.  Yang flipped open her box of pasta and turned on the television, leaving Blake wondering if a response was even expected.  

Surely, Blake had made enough suggestive comments to make her attraction clear.  Just the other day she made a mortifying remark about how Yang was the type of beautiful that people would pleasure themselves while thinking about.  But maybe Yang only considered those to be jokes.  Was this her way of asking how Blake felt about her?

Deciding that she had nothing to lose - self-respect had flown out of the window weeks ago - Blake squeezed her eyes shut and said, “Both.”

“‘Both?’”  Yang glanced away from the TV, brow furrowed, but quickly brightened.  “Oh!  Want some of mine?  Have at it - there’s more than enough.”

“No, I meant…”  

Blake’s words dried up when Yang’s pretty lilac eyes settled on her, displaying open, genuine curiosity.  If Blake confessed her huge crush right now, Yang probably wouldn't mind.  She might not return those feelings, but she definitely wouldn't make Blake feel worse for having them.  If anything, she was probably an expert at gently letting people down.

“Is your sister seeing anyone?”  

Yang blinked at the question, but Blake’s mouth had suddenly found a mind of its own.  

“I mean, she’s cute and seems really friendly, so I’m just wondering if she’s single.  If she is, maybe I could get her number?”

“...you want my sister’s number?”

“If she’s single.”  Blake scrunched her nose at the awkward request before noticing the way Yang was staring at her, mouth ajar.  “And only if she’s ok with that,” she hurriedly added.  “I guess it’s a little weird for you to give out her number…”

“Uh, yeah, just a bit?”  Yang licked her lips and shifted on the sofa.  “I didn’t realize she was your type.”

“Me?”  Blake pointed to herself and shook her head at Yang’s halting nod.  “Oh, no.  My type is much more -”  Realization hit her like a semi running a red light, and her mind flipped into damage control mode.  “Not for me!” she corrected before Yang got the wrong idea - although ‘I’d like your sister’s number’ didn’t leave much room for the right idea.  “I was asking for Weiss,” she clarified.  “I usually go for a more mature vibe.  Bonus points if they’re tall, blonde, and…adventurous.”

“‘Adventurous?’”

“Yeah, you know - someone open-minded and willing to -”

Abruptly remembering that she was speaking to a classmate, Blake swallowed the end of that sentence like someone might swallow a cold snail.  When Yang’s expression brightened, and then laughter filled the air, she resisted the urge to bury her face in her hands.

“‘Adventurous,’ huh?”  Yang chuckled to herself, deepening Blake’s blush, before adding, “Ruby’s not dating anyone.  And I’m sure she’d love Weiss to text her since she was just telling me, ‘Oh my god, that’s the prettiest girl I’ve ever met.’”

“Definitely not the prettiest…”  As soon as a knowing grin slipped onto Yang’s lips, Blake cleared her throat and tried to play it cool.  “She’ll be excited though, so thank you.”

“No problem.”  Rather than spit out Ruby’s number though, Yang fiddled with the remote, then glanced at Blake out of the corner of her eye and asked, “Don’t you want to know if I’m dating someone?”

On the list of things that Blake wanted to know about Yang, that ranked near the top - slightly beneath her rabid curiosity about what Yang liked in more intimate settings.  Blake had tried to glean Yang’s relationship status through their conversations in class so was fairly confident that Yang wasn’t romantically involved, but a definitive answer would be nice.

“Sure.”  The response sounded so nonchalant that Blake shook her head and tried again.  “I mean, I want to know if you’re willing to tell me.”

“I’m not.  Dating anyone.”  While Blake’s heart celebrated the news, Yang glanced around the room, her tongue darted across her lips, and she leaned closer.  “There’s this girl in one of my classes that I’m interested in though.”

“Oh.”  Blake sat back as if the admission landed like a slap on her cheek but quickly forced a flimsy smile.  “Lucky her,” she added, and Yang’s grin returned.

“Want to know what she’s like?” 

Yang’s eyes were so bright and happy that a resigned sigh slipped through Blake’s lips.

“She’s probably really pretty, smart, sophisticated, and uses words like ‘indubitably’ or ‘resplendent.’”

Yang snorted at the mental image that had solidified in Blake’s mind.

“She is really pretty.  And smart.  Sophisticated, too.  And I’m pretty sure she’s attracted to me - at least, she thinks I have nice legs and stares at my ass all the time.”  Blake huffed at the thought of someone else staring at Yang’s butt, but Yang beamed and gently bumped Blake’s knee.  “She also looks down my top whenever we’re working together in class, so I’ve been flying through every low-cut shirt I own.”

The longer Yang went on, the more Blake squinted at what sounded an awful lot like her.  But Yang having the same effect on another girl - on every girl - seemed completely within the realm of reason.

“That’s…great?” Blake eventually ventured, so Yang nudged her knee again.

“I’m talking about you by the way.” 

Blake froze, mouth open and eyes wide, while Yang cleared her throat and glanced down at her hands.

“Sorry, I just wanted to make it clear,” she explained before locking Blake in her lilac gaze.  “I think you’re gorgeous and really adorable when you’re flustered.  Like, people have called me pretty before, but I’ve never had someone say my hair looks so nice that they want to tie themselves up in it.”

“God,” Blake breathed out, covering her eyes with one hand while Yang chuckled.  But embarrassment didn’t swallow her whole this time.  Instead, Yang touched her elbow, prompting her to look up.

“It’s cute,” Yang assured her.  “But I thought maybe if I told you, you’d be a little less…frazzled?”

Blake blew a breath through her lips before rubbing her warm cheeks with both hands and trying to catch up.  The idea that Yang had known about her feelings all along, and had played into them because she felt the same, was mind-boggling.

“No pressure though,” Yang added before Blake could respond.  “But if you want to grab dinner sometime, or watch an old show that we also have to write a report on…I’d be pretty stoked about that.”  

When Yang nodded to the television, with the Paws & Whiskers menu on the screen, Blake gaped at it and then at Yang in turn.

“I called the AchieveMen dumb,” she pointed out, but Yang chuckled and shrugged.

“Yeah, they’re kind of an acquired taste.”

“And I made fun of Patch.”

“Everyone from Patch makes fun of Patch too.”

“But I -”

Yang reached over and grabbed one of Blake’s hands, ending the string of mortifying memories.

“It’s adorable.”  Yang paused for a second, and then a playful grin snuck onto her lips.  “But if you call me ‘hard’ again, I might actually lose it.”

Blake groaned and buried her head in her hands, but Yang’s delighted laughter quickly prompted a smile.

“Why don’t we just eat and watch some cartoons?” Yang suggested.  “We can figure everything else out as we go.”

“That sounds perfect.”  Blake hardly smiled and nodded before adding, “How long will your sister be gone?”  As soon as Yang’s brow rose, Blake waved her arms in front of her.  “Not that I meant - you know.  I was just thinking if we wanted privacy - not for that, but if we’re talking or…something…and don’t want to be interrupted -”

Giving up, Blake sighed and covered half of her face with one hand.  Yang, on the other hand, laughed.

“This is going to be so much fun,” she said, still chuckling to herself while starting the show.  She then picked up her food and leaned against Blake’s shoulder as the familiar theme song began to play, warming Blake’s side just as thoroughly as her cheeks.

Blake glanced over, accidentally looked down Yang’s top, and decided that this was the best outcome she could have hoped for.  Maybe she wasn’t a smooth-talking charmer or a witty conversationalist or even just a normal person, but her newly discovered lack of poise had somehow served her well.  A small part of her worried about what she might say now that pretenses had fallen by the wayside, but a much larger part of her was excited to see where her unruly thoughts might take them next.

If she did call Yang hard again…what did Yang mean by ‘losing it?’