Yang has been at reception for a while now.
She gets in with Weiss, who’s looking spotless as she usually does, if a little dejected. She doesn’t let it show and Yang says nothing.
She greets Ren in a suit and an overexcited Nora in a very pretty pink dress, exuberant just as she is.
She welcomes her sister with a smile and a laugh at her hate for heels. Ruby has admittedly never been a socialite, but she’s getting better.
Yang is distracted when she hears a familiar smooth voice.
“Good evening, Yang.”
There is a smile hiding in those simple, courteous words. Yang lifts her eyes to be met with striking emerald green.
A sigh of awe escapes Yang’s lips as she briefly looks over Pyrrha’s form. She’s in a gorgeous red dress, ankle-length and the same shade of her fiery hair. People have called her a goddess, and if Yang had not seen her in battle, she sure would believe it now.
“Pyrrha! You made it!”
No one is holding her arm, her hands are crossed at the wrist in front of her, politely, just enough to show the matching bracelet to her tiara.
“Alone too, huh.”
Too, but Yang won’t admit her own lack of a partner, she’s fine with being alone, to be honest. Isn’t she?
Yang leans forward, one elbow on the wooden podium in front of her, cheek on her palm. She smirks, amused, but not surprised.
“… y’know, he’s a sweet guy.”
And Pyrrha’s face turns a darker shade of red.
“But he’s also an idiot who’s missing out.”
Yang knows of her troubles, she’s always had a nose for these things, but really, anybody who’s close enough would notice. Except maybe her sister, still not that much interested in the matters of the heart, but Yang has seen the way she looks at Weiss so who knows.
Pyrrha welcomes her words with an apologetic smile, as if she was the one who needed to say sorry.
Pyrrha is a great fighter, she’s gorgeous, smart and, c’mon, she is a genuinely good person. She really doesn’t deserve to be ignored. Or left alone during a dance.
A very small part of Yang wonders how it would be if they both weren’t longing for different people, if they could be each other’s right person. It would be comfortable, but she’s not sure it would feel right. It would be easier.
Yang then takes the initiative, because it’s what Yang does best, right? Confidence. She likes Pyrrha, she really does, but in the end her heart lies elsewhere. So, what’s the harm?
She takes Pyrrha’s hand in hers, feeling soft fingers brush against her own roughed up ones. She gets a glance at her wristwatch and wonders for a second if she will show up.
“What do you say, Pyr, you and me to this dance?”
Yang says it theatrically, a hand on her heart and a smile on her lips. Pyrrha giggles in that charming way of hers that makes an entire room turn to her and hides her bright smile behind a polite hand. Her eyes shine for a moment.
“That would be lovely.”
Pyrrha always knew she had a thing for tall, blond and loud. Yang is so nice to be around. She has a terrible sense of humour and a smile for everyone, she’s strong and hot-headed, emotional but never in a bad way. Pyrrha really does like her, at the end of the day. She thinks being with Yang would be simple.
But she has seen how Yang perks up as soon as she sees black hair, how she looks at her like someone seeing a work of art for the first time. Yang is lost into someone else and she’s so obvious she doesn’t seem to be aware.
“But I know I’m not the one you’re looking at.”
Yang doesn’t know if the hint of regret in Pyrrha’s voice is meant to be there, but it is. It stings.
She has been looking at someone else and she can only wonder if that someone is looking back.
“And while Jaune doesn’t see me… she sees you.”
It’s then that Sun and Blake make their way up the steps in front of the entrance, Sun chatting up about this and that. Blake immediately notices Yang in her white, simple, beautiful dress. She knew she would be right there at the door. The presence of red, she can’t ignore either.
Blake stiffens, back straightening as she lets go of Sun’s arm. He doesn’t seem to notice, or care, though. As they get closer, Blake tricks herself into hoping Yang was only there for her and a light blush spreads on her cheeks.
Yang sees Blake. As per Pyrrha’s prediction, the corners of her lilac eyes immediately lift up imperceptibly.
When Yang tries to protest against her knowing look, - “I- wha! No!” - Pyrrha has half a mind to just shove her into Blake’s arms, but she doesn’t. She pinches her cheek instead, in a friendly way, grounding, reassuring. She’s sighing as her smirk morphs into something more open.
“These things slip by quick. Let’s not waste time being conflicted.”
Then Pyrrha leans forward and plants a gentle kiss on Yang’s warm cheek.
“Enjoy your night, Yang.”
It would be so much easier.