Oh how it must be to be a Schnee.
Winter felt she was glowering. It was something she had learned to do while at Beacon. People didn’t like her. It was kind of…understandable. She probably wouldn’t like her either. In fact, she didn’t. Being rich wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.
And then, there was him. She had seen him a few times around the academy. He was in the trees. Sometimes he was a crow. Sometimes he wasn’t. But she always got this feeling he was watching her…except he wasn’t.
She had hoped to please her father enough by proving she could do better than her expectations suggested. But it did nothing. Perhaps being a huntress wasn’t good enough. How much higher did her standards have to go in order to prove herself? A day’s worth of training would put a strain on her. She was born with a natural righty. In order to give herself an advantage, she practiced everything with her left hand. If she wasn’t working twice as hard, it wouldn’t be worth it. But every night she sat at the bottom of the shower, wondering if it really was worth it.
There was a bet some of the other guys were making lately. He had overheard it between coffee breaks. Something about who would be the first to deflower a daughter of Schnee? That of course would be impossible. Winter, that was her name, was too guarded. Interestingly, she was pretty much head and shoulders above the rest of her class. She had some real talent.
He was never really interested in the matters of the rich. Granted the Schnee family made a monopoly of the Dust business, which was more or less unforgiveable. But that was something that was out of his control. At least they didn’t control the liquor business. He shook his flask and was disappointed to find it half-empty.
Less liquor equals more problems.
That was his motto. He could care less about a spoiled bitch was doing with her life. He had a meeting with Ozpin in about 15 minutes. Might as well show up early. It was slightly out of character for him, but Ozpin knew he’d be there. Qrow was a man of his word after all.
Sometimes he wondered if he should stop drinking so much. Then someone would say something stupid and he’d reach for his flask. It was an instinct for him now. Maybe it’s too late to quit. He thought.
On his way to the elevator he passed a white-haired girl in the hallway.
White hair huh? Must be a Schnee.
The hair color was unique to the family itself. Such a pure trait was carefully groomed into the bloodline, most likely avoiding incestuous implications along the way. Genetics proved they were a competent, exceptional family. He shook his head to get the thoughts out and focused on the meeting he was traveling to.
If I wanted to waste my time I would’ve gone to the damn tavern! Qrow thought sourly as he exited the elevator. Apparently the only task he had been given for the time-being was to watch over Winter Schnee. He’d rather deal with Death Stalkers than be some bodyguard to a heiress brat. Their first meeting would be tomorrow morning before classes. This wasn’t going to be fun at all.
Winter arrived 10 minutes after he did the next day. She wore her silver-white hair in a loose ponytail over her left shoulder with a crystal pin in the shape of a snowflake in her hair. She had nice eyes, that was going for her. Her face was somewhat dainty, not particularly princess-like but definitely attractive. But what struck him were her legs. She wore black thigh-high socks so long they left only a few choice inches of bare skin between the top of her stockings and the hem of her decidedly short skirt. I hope she decided to wear bike shorts or somebody’s getting an eyeful.
“Qrow, this is Winter,” Ozpin began, snapping him out of his perverted thoughts. “You will be shadowing her these next few semesters.” He noted the man used the word “shadowing” instead of “guarding”. Perhaps it was a way to make her feel more independent? He opted not to say anything except nod with his arms crossed. Winter looked somewhat intimidated. Not exactly shy, but not especially confidant. Qrow had seen the way her pupils dilated for a moment. He knew exactly what that meant.
He knew he was attractive. Women fawned over him. His sister Raven had banged her head against the wall MANY times when he brought up the number of love notes he had received at the academy. It got to the point he started throwing them away out of boredom. The issue was…those were women his own age, maybe a little older. Winter couldn’t be any more than eighteen, not that it made him feel any better. He didn’t have much interest in youngbloods. Glynda was more his type.
Winter was so immature-looking and decidedly colorless. He was beginning to think this would be less of a challenge than he figured. Oh no! He was missing some of the instructions!
“She’ll have your number on dial so she can communicate with you if necessary. I would recommend your contacting her be limited,” it was Glynda speaking this time. He knew better than to ask directly why he was put up to the task.
“Why couldn’t you get someone else to do it?” he rasped carelessly. “I’m sure there are more qualified ‘people’ for this job. Am I even getting paid for this?” Glynda bristled invisibly. He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. I’m sure the little lady can take good care of herself.”
“I’m eighteen!” Winter interjected. Her face turning red with embarrassment.
Perhaps she didn’t take to being called “little lady”.
“I don’t recall asking your age, little lady”, he shot back. Winter clenched her jaw.
"Don't call me that!" she spat.
"Oh hoo, I'm sorry. I forgot who I was speaking to. Shall I call you 'snow lady' instead?" he kept himself from grinning too widely. His task was complete. She hated him now.