RWBY Pyrrha's Heel

Pyrrha's Heel

A/N: Just a bit of writing practice since I've been out of the game for a little while. It's kind of unfinished but I didn't want to end up spending exorbitant amounts of time on it.

Inspired in part by bonpyro's art on tumblr.

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It was a calm and relaxing Saturday afternoon for team RWBY. For once, Yang had completed her weekend's worth of homework early and was presently celebrating by dozing in her partner's bed; with that same partner wrapped loosely around her arm who was, in turn, enjoying a novel. Ruby and Weiss had wandered off earlier in the day, offering only vague excuses and vibrant blushes when asked where they were going. No matter, the peaceful and quiet atmosphere left behind was a welcome break from their normally hectic lives of training, studying, and fighting. Even Yang, who usually took every opportunity she could find to rouse up some excitement, found herself in a blissfully relaxed state.

As seemed to always be the case when they found time to breathe easy, it did not last. A knock came at the door and Yang rose to meet it, grumbling incoherently. Ruby had probably forgotten her key again, the idiot. Big sis to the rescue yet again. No doubt she was going to have to listen to Weiss give Ruby an earful for the next half hour too.

However, after a preliminary check through the peephole, Yang's mood shifted dramatically. Without wasting another second she flung the door open and looked worriedly at their new guest.

"Hey Pyrr, what's up?" she greeted softly, already knowing at least part of the answer.

The redhead standing in the doorway had her head hung and arms slack at her sides. Upon hearing the tentatively concerned greeting, she managed a small, empty smile and aimed it at the blonde.

Pyrrha was strong; anyone who took one look at her knew that. But sometimes even she needed a little comforting, and during these rare occasions she came to Yang, her best friend. What always followed was a sacred thing to both of them, so much that outsiders aware of it knew to simply let it happen and not to question it. Even Blake – being Yang's girlfriend –respected it, although the first time she witnessed it had come as a bit of a shock.

The warrior merely fell into the blonde's awaiting arms. Her expression was completely devoid of all its usual calm and upbeat energy, and Yang didn't care to know why. It wasn't important to her. All that mattered was that her best friend needed her, and that it called for the usage of their little ritual.

After a minute of holding her friend in a comforting hug, Yang's focus left the redhead for the first time and only for long enough to get a necessity out of the way. When she spoke, her voice was calm and collected like it always was when her motherly instincts took over.

"Hey Blake, sorry to ask, but do you mind if we use your bed? Mine is a little hard to reach."

Her girlfriend's amber eyes were wide with courteous pity; Pyrrha was a good friend of hers as well, but simply not on the same level as the blonde. She rose from the sheets immediately.

"All yours. Do you two want to be alone for a while?"

"Not my place to say," Yang said, giving the girl in her arms a little squeeze. "What do you think, Pyrrha?"

The redhead had her head rested on Yang's chest and her eyes stared blankly at the wall. But when she was addressed, she looked up at Yang, and then to Blake. She mustered another small smile before speaking for the first time since her arrival.

"You can stay, it's okay. We're all friends here."

Words beyond that point were unnecessary. Blake gave a polite nod and smiled sadly at their guest, but otherwise sat at her desk and continued reading.

Even though her presence had been approved, the ominous sense that she was intruding crept across her skin like tiny insects. The soft noise of two bodies settling into bed, her bed, soon tugged at her conscious. Ironically, she had to dedicate all of her focus on _not_ paying attention to them. Perhaps she was lying to herself thinking she wasn't a little jealous.

Were she in her normal state of mind, Pyrrha would be aware of exactly how Blake felt and it would sadden her. But she was not; that's why she was there.

Presently, her head weighed upon her crossed arms in Yang's lap. Her shining emerald eyes lay unfocused; mind too empty to even think. A thousand pins pricked at her limbs as even her blood seemed to slow and her limbs became numb. Every sense, thought, and desire seemed to be drifting away and she had no power to fight it. The soft expansions and depressions of her chest soon became her only sign of life.

But the strong heart beating next to her and the hands gently stroking her hair were her lifeline. The warmth they radiated breathed life into her faster than her own body and mind could suck it out. It would take time, comforting embraces, soothing words, and most of all the subliminal yet overpowering knowledge that she was loved to heal the hurt that plagued her. But it _would_ heal. With Yang's help, it always did.


End file.

RWBY, Friendship, Hurt-Comfort