#I think Adam's failure there was just not realising how messed up Raven had become possibly bc he was absorbed in research

[firebirdsdaughter]

I respect your right…

… To interpret this honestly incredibly vague character writing/story telling in this way. I respect it.

You're wrong, but I respect it.

[forgetspecifics]

Such Sights are Bright - Chapter 7: Living Without You

Both Yang and Blake contemplate a life without each other; Blake ever-concerned about how her past is affecting her future.

Other links: Ao3 FF.net

Notes: Well, hi, welcome to the first update of 2018!

I'm sorry about the wait during the angst, but I've been dealing with a cute little emergency foster kitten. A little homage to chapter 3, amirite? PSA, kittens are adorable and that's absolutely the reason why Blake has so many people fighting for her affection in canon. Speaking of canon, OMG. That's also partially responsible for my delay. I'm so fucking ready for the last two episodes of V5 and I'm hanging out for that beeunion. I can't wait another year for bees, CRWBY :(

Note that I was kind of undecided on how I wrote this chapter. I wanted it to come across that they're both really upset, kind of just barely living, and they're not thinking very clearly, and some of the things they say don't make much sense (which was partly due to the song that is the inspo). More explanation at the end.

onto my continuation of le angst!

March (Spring) /

Spring had sprung in Canton, and it was beautiful.

Yet, the butterflies, the birds, and the bees had no effect on a particular person.

After all, Yang would not be spending time with the girl that had recently become everything she never knew she dreamed of.

She had it bad for Blake, and then everything had gone bad. First, her confession went over terribly, and then Blake had left her hanging on to hope that she’d come around eventually and warm up to the idea that they’d be okay.

The opposite, in fact, had happened.

Yang wasn’t one hundred percent sure, but it seemed like Blake had fallen off the face of the Earth, as if she hadn’t ever existed.

Like a shadow that had been burned out by the sun.

She hadn’t seen Blake since that afternoon, not even at school. Nobody bothered to ask her why she had lost the person that she had been attached at the hip to – either her morose attitude told them enough, or someone had forewarned them that it was much too personal an issue (Pyrrha was Yang’s guess; even if Sun was the most informed, his lack of tact would never win him any awards).

There was a part of Yang that considered a third possibility; Blake had only been avoiding her. It wasn’t like Blake to skip school for a month, and as good as she was on her feet, it’d be hard to avoid the eight other people in their friendship circle. Which made for an awkward confusion that Yang would rather just not bring up, for fear of the emotions that would likely follow if she found out that the others had seen or even spoke to Blake.

After the first few weeks of the seeming game of cat and mouse, the rag-tag group of friends began to grow worried. While they wanted to respect their privacy and personal space, on the other hand, Yang was clearly suffering. Nobody liked seeing her sunny disposition diminish with every passing day.

Yet, there was nothing they could do once Yang had given up. There came a point where she no longer kept her lavender eyes peeled for a sign of a black bow; waiting around in the halls or by the bus stop Blake used to frequent. She had furtively scoured libraries across town, cafés that sold teas the Faunus favoured, even grocery store aisles where canned tuna and packaged cottage cheese where found (it was a reach, but she had tried anything she could think of).

There was only so much she could do, being one girl, and she had nothing to work with when Blake wouldn’t take her calls or make contact with her in any way, shape or form.

For umpteenth time, Yang was abandoned by someone she thought would be by her side. She’d forgotten all about her estranged mother, the woman she’d intended to learn about, because of Blake. Finding someone that wanted to be in her life and appreciated her overshadowed that and filled the hole left by Raven, but it turned out that when the going got tough, Blake had just run away from her too.

The inside of her head was a mess, her thoughts jumbled. It was a perpetual state of confusion. She’d be thinking of something related to her current situation; school, or driving, or the food she was mindlessly eating, but then her train of thought would switch tracks to Blake. Everything about her. All the things that got on her mind would end up making Yang think about Blake. Between being convinced that she wanted Blake back regardless of what had happened, and being adamant that she didn’t miss her because she made her choice – it was driving Yang crazier than when she had been mad at Blake after New Year’s.

Yang was angry, but underneath that, she was lost. The give and get she was used to – being able to talk to somebody that listened, and return the gesture, that had come and gone. All her emotions were bottled up without anyone to talk to. She didn’t want to burden Ruby with her troubles; her sister had been able to see the way she felt before she had even realised it herself, and had been set on playing matchmaker for them. She was ecstatic when Yang had admitted that she had a crush on Blake, and Yang didn’t want to disappoint her. She didn’t want Ruby to wonder what had gone wrong, because she didn’t even know the answer. Yang just wanted to turn down the thoughts inside her head, because every night, it would just give her heart ache.

It hurt, most of all, because it didn’t need to be that way. The guilt and self-blame that had overtaken Blake was something that Yang just didn’t understand, not for lack of trying, but because she hadn’t been given the chance to.

Maybe it would hurt less if she knew why Blake was so afraid.

Maybe it wouldn’t.

Even though she wasn’t completely alone, the wide birth Qrow had been giving her at home certainly made it feel that way. The house was empty, not just missing the hopeful spirit she’d had, but without Blake visiting all the time there was nothing to stop Yang remembering exactly whose house it was.

Her uncle had done his best to cheer her up; he knew exactly what had happened, having suspicions about of the nature of their friendship for some time. At the same time, Qrow had unwittingly offended his niece – he never claimed to be good at cheering teenage girls up. His harsh life lessons maybe weren’t what she had needed to hear.

He had noticed Yang had been acting strange as of late; no longer making jokes or laughing at his dry sense of humour. Always wearing a frown or staring off into nothingness, barely speaking a word to him. Qrow had finally had enough, and asked her what the hell her problem was. A few words was all she said.

“Blake’s avoiding me.”

That alone was enough to piss off Qrow Branwen – he hated seeing his niece subjected to the same thing over and over again. His protectiveness of her stemmed from the lack of care by his sister, and he was not about to let that girl off the hook for ditching her so-called best friend.

“I always thought that girl was hiding something, Yang,” he didn’t really know what that had to do with anything, but he never trusted her. “Now look what she’s done to you, you’re devastated-”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about!” Yang shouted, visibly upset.

Qrow, taken aback at how easily she defended Blake, scowled.

“You don’t know her like I do,” his niece pleaded for him to understand.

He couldn’t hold his tongue, remembering how he had never once thought that his sister would abandon her daughter during her pregnancy. He had been wrong, and so was Yang. “Well, it looks like you didn’t know her as well as you thought you did!”

He swore he saw the eyes of his sister bore into his own that night. That and the slamming bedroom door told him that he’d only rubbed salt into the wound. Qrow hadn’t seen Yang that mad since she found out that Raven still contacted him from time to time – which wasn’t actually his fault; the communication was not a two way street.

The man realised that Yang must have some serious feelings for Blake if she was that upset. It probably would have gone without saying, as his niece had begged to live with him so she could learn about Raven – yet the longer she stayed, the less that became her priority.

As much as he didn’t like admitting it, he’d be willing to forgive and forget about everything if Blake came back and Yang was happy. He guessed the same went for Yang, but he couldn’t be too sure – she wouldn’t talk to him much these days.

Qrow told himself that it was Yang’s problem to take care of, not his. Unfortunately, it was illegal for him to track Blake down and drag her home demanding she fix his niece’s broken heart. He just had to have faith that Yang would work it all out, with or without Blake.

Faith, however, was something Yang was severely lacking. There was no way Blake was suddenly going to break out of her mentality if she was isolated with only her own thoughts, and Yang had run out of ways to try and fix that. One month without the Faunus was going to turn into two. If Blake wasn’t in her future, then she saw no reason for her to stay in Ohio any longer than necessary – it’d only remind her of her failure. She would have stayed with Blake; if Blake needed her to be there, Yang would have followed her wherever she lead her.

But now, she was seriously consider getting herself back home after graduating. Ruby was there; Ruby still loved her. Her father would welcome her with open arms, just happy that she still loved him. Zwei would bark and wag his stubby tail, none the wiser. If she was going to be living without Blake, it would be with her family, at home.

Yang knew she would eventually have had to make a choice regardless; stay in Ohio or go back to Maine.

Maybe it was time to choose.

Blake stared at the mess she’d made. Her bedroom was littered with clothes and books; drawers open and draped with things that hadn’t made it into the suitcase she’d hurriedly packed in a panic. It had become routine for her to freak out every couple of days, somehow getting the idea that she would be better off going back to Zoar; back to the White Fang. She wanted to run so badly, but she’d only be leaving where she had originally ran to in the first place. It was a delicate situation; always leading to her unpacking and reorganising her belongings, only to bring them out again when her flight instinct flared up.

Leaving would not solve her problems, it would only replace them with old ones. Her issue was that she never actually solved any of her problems, just ran from them, and it tended to pile up after awhile. She had promised that she could be mature; independent, earn her right to go to college and support herself once she turned eighteen. It would not look good if she came home with her metaphorical tail between her legs, and because of a human, no less.

There had been a few simple rules; keep her Faunus trait hidden, stay out of trouble, send updates home every week, and keep to herself. Those were the conditions she’d agreed to – not that she had a choice, really. Her appointed guardian had the control, and while Blake didn’t completelytrust the woman, she was never the worst member of the church.

Sienna Khan, a tiger Faunus, was her father’s successor as the high leader of the White Fang. After her parents’ passing, Blake had also became Sienna’s charge. Blake always hoped that if Sienna was deemed worthy enough by her father to lead, then she was capable of being her guardian. Luckily, Blake’s inheritance was unable to be accessed by anyone other than herself, and was hers to do with as she pleased – and she so pleased; using it in her argument to convince Sienna that she was able to live by herself for a year in preparation for her future, renting a house in Canton – not too far away.

And while Blake had eventually broken one of the rules, nobody would ever find that out. Yang had kept her mouth sealed shut when it came to her Faunus heritage, and Blake hadn’t let the blonde in on her home address. She’d kept that to herself when it came to Yang; she was human, and Blake wouldn’t put it past Sienna and the church to figure out somehow that a human girl was constantly showing up at her house. That was not something she wanted to explain to someone that had promised the destruction of humans that stood in their way to equality. Better to be safe than sorry on that one.

Blake knew that her home was never with Sienna and the White Fang. She had planned on making her own home far away from them once she was an adult, and that day was going to come within a few months. She almost made it a year without screwing anything up, but here she was throwing away the best thing – the best person, to ever happen to her.

And for what?

An ideology she didn’t agree with?

Blake knew pushing Yang away didn’t make any sense. She blamed it on their biological differences, but Yang had seen through that.

If Blake had gone any further in her reasoning, all of the mistakes of her past would have had to come out. All this time, she had wanted to hide that part of her away; pretend like he hadn’t affected her. The truth Blake couldn’t tell Yang was that there was a voice in her head that forbid her to love a human, and it was controlling her – even if that voice belonged to her worst nightmare; her former friend and confidant...

...her first love.

Blake despised what he’d done to her and all the lies he’d told her, but he had been that manipulative. It had taken far too long for her rose coloured glasses to come off and to see him for what he had become. And when she did, it was a wake-up call; a warning that there was no future in the path they were on – in regards to their crusade for better treatment, and their relationship.

Blake had disagreed with Adam for the last time. That is, he had had enough of her defiance. The girl had avoided helping him with his plans with lame excuses for months, and he was tired of her letting him down. Worst of all, she wanted out – she wanted to give up and pretend she wasn’t a Faunus and live alongside humans, instead of ridding the planet of the vile beings.

He was furious that she would even have the guts to refuse him, and he was going to let her know that. “What do you want, Blake? To mingle with humans? They’re lesser beings! We are superior-”

“I want equality!” Blake cut him off. She wouldn’t listen to his excuses; her mind was made up, and she would not let Adam walk all over her anymore.

He was furious. He would not let Blake betray him and ruin what he had worked for, and he was not going to hold back his ire. “What you want is impossible! We are destined to light the fires of revolution and deliver the justice that mankind so greatly deserves.”

The spiteful tone of his voice only served to further convince Blake that she was doing the right thing. “We must strive for peace, not bloodshed! I can’t do this with you anymore, Adam.”

He was no longer someone she could trust to keep her safe.

Then, as if he had read her mind, Adam silenced her with a forceful slap to her face, shocking her and sparking fear of what he was truly capable of inside her heart for the first time.

He cared not for her wide eyes staring at him in pure fright, snarling at her with malice she had never experienced before, even from humans. “You’re worthless, Blake. I’m the only person that will ever love you, and don’t you dare forget it!”

How could she explain what Adam had done to her? He scared her to no end. She could still feel the impact of the back of his hand connecting with her cheek. After that, he had become more violent and spiteful – she tried to forget every bruise from his vice-like grip on her arms or throat, or every time her chest would burn when he kicked her to the ground, and the verbal abuse he’d spit in her face when she refused to comply with his twisted ideas.

But she could never be rid of those memories, and the only thing she could do was hide them from others and try to convince herself that they hadn’t broken her.

She’d been a fool to trust Adam, and to fall for him had been even more foolish. Messing with the bull had gotten her the horns, so to speak – he was a bull Faunus; towering over her at over six feet tall, with an odd mixture of brown-red hair. He had once been kind and caring, his good looks and sweet words pulling her in. But, like she had told Yang, he changed over time – and by the time Blake realised that, it was too late for him, but not for herself.

Leaving hadn’t let her escape him, though; she carried Adam and his burden with her wherever she went. She never, ever, wanted to see him again for the rest of her life.

Somehow, she’d manage to forget about him – well, Yang had helped with that. There was something about that girl, and the more Blake thought about it, the something was everything. Everything about Yang had made Blake into something else, something she herself didn’t recognise.

She had smiled every day for about five months, even on bad days, right up until she’d stomped all over the blonde’s heart. Blake believed with every fibre of her being that the smile on her face had been because of Yang. It was the smile; an expression of pure unadulterated happiness – Yang must have known it, too. She’d told her that it looked good on her on Christmas day, and it could have only been because she believed Blake was happy.

And she had been. She had even thought, in rare moments, that everything would be alright if Yang had a romantic interest in her. In a perfect world, at least it, would have been – but Blake didn’t live in that world, even if she desperately wanted to. The new voice in her head, the one that roared to high heavens and was somehow even louder than Adam’s venomous yelling, kept trying to tell her that all she had to do was let her fear go.

It was unwavering, despite the two voices being continually at odds. The one that always encouraged her to follow her heart and find happiness sounded a lot like Yang – and it always complimented her when she was feeling self-conscious. The other was Adam, berating her and never failing to rub her nose in her insecurities.

Blake found it so easy to listen to Yang’s voice, not even bothered that it had made itself at home in her conscience. It was her own mental cheerleader, and it was just the right kind of charming. Being stuck with that honey-sweet voice for as long as she had, she wouldn’t be able to resist believing that everything would be alright for much longer when it said, I’ve got this thing about you, just like the real Yang had. It wasn’t eloquent, it didn’t make total sense, but it was honest and raw – which was more than Blake had the decency to give back.

This was always the point where she would hate getting to in her thoughts. Reliving the moment when she’d heard what she wanted to hear, only to throw it away not soon after. It became difficult to even sit still for five minutes without risking replaying the conversation over and over, contemplating that she would simply be alone forever – not because she wanted to, but because it was better that way. An empty house for an empty heart, where she’d live out the rest of her days pining after someone she could have let herself have if it wasn’t for Adam.

If she was lucky, she could shake herself out of it before she started crying. Forcing herself to blink a few times, she finally came back to Earth and refocused on her surroundings. Observing what clothes she’d mindlessly decided to pack in her haste this time, her keen eyes were taken by something almost neon in colour.

If God was looking to punish her just a little more, that punishment was in the form of a bright yellow pair of underwear that, without a doubt, didn’t belong to her. She supposed that she deserved it really, if she’d never insisted on returning them to Yang after she’d borrowed them that one time many months ago. There was no guilt in forgetting she had them, no, only a painful reminder of the girl she wished she had. How cruel a world she lived in if the only thing she had left from Yang was a God-awful looking pair of panties – it was a somewhat inappropriate item to keep, after all. Although, it would admittedly be stranger to try and return them; an idea Blake quickly disregarded after imagining Qrow finding them in his mailbox.

She practically dived into her suitcase, grabbing the offending garment so she could shove it far into her dresser drawer, lest she get anymore stupid ideas about it. Forcing herself into a lifetime of loneliness perhaps wasn’t the best idea with such an active imagination that centred mostly around a very attractive blonde – especially when she couldn’t even bring herself to throw away a borrowed pair of underwear. Maybe she could just keep them...

“I apparently look good in yellow, anyway,” she said aloud, wondering when she’d gotten crazy enough to talk to herself.

Blake, frustrated, started cleaning up. If she left everything lying around too long, she’d be too tired later to bother.

The amount of times she’d been through this process left her wondering if she was not simply crazy, but completely out of her mind. To deny Yang when she so clearly only wanted the best for her seemed like another mistake she would regret. Blake would admit that it was selfish to have caused Yang pain in the hopes that she would be hated for it, because she was too weak to walk away on her own. It would have been so easy to accept Yang’s love; ignore everything bad that had ever happened and pretend it would be smooth sailing from then on.

But that was not who Blake was. She was guarded, and paranoid that she was bad luck, bad news, a bad omen. Everyone that had previously known her would have said that she was cynical, never convinced that a positive word was said about her – but Blake was well aware nobody in the White Fang was very fond of her. She was a Belladonna, part of the family they’d grown to despise, and every rumour that Adam spread about her didn’t help. No matter how nice or smart she was, how well educated she became, they’d never treat her as one of their own.

That was more terrifying than facing Yang again.

Blake knew that was the reason she hadn’t run off for good. She truly did not want to go back to her old life; even if she had to live without Yang, anything would be better than that. In a few months, if she wasn’t hated by all her friends for ghosting them, she could have the freedom to reach out to them – and not worry what Sienna or the White Fangthought.

That was the most positive thing she had thought of in God knows how long – and it ignited a small ray of hope. If she had to run from one thing, it would be the church full of angry Faunus. That was what she had been trying to do all along; if running from Yang, even for a few months, helped Blake achieve that...it would be alright. She’d have to live with the guilt of it, but it was more bearable than having something happen to Yang that was out of her control.

Blake would fix her own mess before dragging Yang into it. She deserved that much. If she could hold out a little longer, maybe she could even get the chance to explain herself. It was with that resolve Blake took a deep breath, hoping to take one day at a time with less worry clouding her mind.

Having returned everything that was misplaced to normal, she turned back to her suitcase to pack away the rest of her things. while tucking her clothes back into their drawers, she had the passing thought of also putting her suitcase away so as to not tempt herself into filling it again. Lying in the bottom of her suitcase was a plethora of books – it was so predictable of her to have packed her books first. Many of them had been bought in the last few months using the gift card that Yang had given to her for Christmas.

While trying to ignore the flash of memories that it brought on, Blake attempted to haul them all out in her arms and back to the overstuffed bookshelf. She cringed as one slid from her haphazard grasp, failing to stop it tumbling to the hardwood floor, with several dull thunks signalling a rough journey. Placing each tome back into place, Blake went back for the one that hadn’t been as lucky to come out of her stupor unharmed, dreading the crumpled corner that it now likely had. Unable to see it at the foot of her bed where she had expected to, she huffed, deducing that it had made its way underneath said bed. Kneeling, she ducked her head down, only to be surprised to find more than a book sitting on the floor.

The Faunus wasn’t one to use the floor as a wardrobe, and she was silently irritated that she had no clue how long there was a shirt under her bed. Leaving it in favour of her dropped book, she brought the tome out to inspect the damage. In awe of her good luck, Blake found there was none – a small miracle. She was particularly pleased; it being a copy of one her favourite traditional fairy tales, La Belle et la Bête. Most people would just call it Beauty and the Beast, but it was the original French tale that Blake much preferred to read, and in its native language. She had it specially ordered in to the bookstore, paying no mind to the fee – all the while thanking Yang for spoiling her.

Having rescued it, she stretched her arm under once again, tucking her shoulder in the gap to make the distance. Avoiding stirring up or collecting any dust, her fingers dug into fabric, bunching as much as they could into her palm. Bringing out the lost shirt was simple, easy – but realising what it was, that was an entirely different thing.

If there was any doubt about Blake’s wardrobe, it was its range of colour. Blacks, greys, whites, hues of purple. She never had the desire for any more of the spectrum – neutrals were much simpler, in her opinion. So, in theory, to find a shirt of the yellow variety could mean little but one thing.

There was more than just Yang Xiao Long’s underwear in her bedroom.

It just then occurred to Blake how insane she, and Yang too, must have seemed to Sun to deny his accusations of their relationship. She had ended up never bringing her own clothes, or even a toothbrush, when she stayed at Yang’s; always happy to wear things that she knew damn well always smelt like her.

Honey, cloves, and a hint of roses.

The lightweight shirt, however long it had been there, still had the faint trace of the aroma Blake had almost forgotten. It was well worn; a few holes, stitching in places that was beginning to come unravelled. The back was adorned with faded lettering, the Xiao Long name emblazoned above the numbers zero and three. Blake could not recall borrowing any such shirt before, inherently curious as to its origins. The left breast being printed with Signal Academy Volleyball Team did give her a vague idea – Yang loved her athleticism, and she probably would want the shirt back, assuming it had sentimental value.

It wasn’t as if Blake had taken it on purpose, though. It could have fallen in her bag, or been swept up with schoolbooks or a sweater, and she just never noticed it fall out onto the floor. It was the last thing she wanted; to feel so obligated to return something when she felt as equally obligated to hand it over in person. This was entirely her fault, and it would be callous to not give it back. Yet, who was to say that Yang knew where it was? She could return it without ever being implicated.

“God, I’m pathetic.”

It hurt to admit it, but Blake knew it. She wanted to give the shirt back, but she wanted to keep it, too. She had no right.

She had no right to love Yang, but she did anyway.

But, that was much too scary a prospect to even consider. Love had never brought her any happiness before, and who was to say it would be different this time? It was times like these that she wished for a sign that she was wrong.

She wouldn’t mind being wrong. At least she would know how much she’d screwed up, rather than grow old wondering if she could have lived a happy life; safe, secure and loved by a blonde that had a liking for terrible puns. She’d become so used to having Yang by her side that she was utterly lost without her.

“I don’t want to do this on my own,” she whispered, resigning herself to the fact that it would never not be painful to have turned her back on Yang.

Heaving her body upright, she turned and put La Belle et la Bête back in the bookshelf as a muffled sound emanated from somewhere. Having sensitive hearing was only good for eavesdropping and finding a lost mobile phone, and Blake was dealing with the latter. Still clutching Yang’s shirt, she finally pinpointed her ringing phone inside her dresser – bundled in with the clothes she’d cleaned up.

She was actually surprised to see that Yang was calling her. Maybe a couple of weeks ago, she wouldn’t have been, but Yang had stopped trying as of late. Blake had asked for a sign, but this was as plain as day.

Still, she’d made her mind up. She’d wait until she was eighteen and free to live her life her own way. She had to commit to that path, no matter how badly she wanted to stray from it.

“I’m sorry, Yang.” Blake dropped her phone back in the drawer and slid it shut. Letting it ring out was the best option, but she couldn’t just sit there and listen to it. There was only one thing she could do when she needed to relax – a warm bath and a good book.

Holding, once again, La Belle et la Bête in her hand, Blake quickly retreated to the bathroom, hoping to get lost in a fantasy world that belonged to someone else.

Blake emerged from the bathroom many hours later, after the water had finally lost its warmth and the French on the pages had become too bothersome to read. Her body felt better for it, but her mind immediately flooded with guilt when she saw Yang’s shirt on her bed. It was stupid, and wouldn’t help her at all, but Blake felt the overwhelming need to wear it, and pretend that it was almost like having Yang here in the flesh. So she put it on, the fabric wrapping her up like Yang used to; a good enough placeholder for now.

Retrieving her phone from her drawer, she was met with three voicemail messages from Yang. Three? That was excessive, even for her – before she had stopped bothering to call altogether, they used to be short pleas for Blake to just say something to her, or demands to block her number so she had some sort of closure.

So for there to be messages left again, after so long, there was no way that Blake wasn’t going to listen to them – even if it was slightly torturous. Her curiosity would always get the better of her. Yang probably knew that. The Faunus shoved the blame onto her heritage before opening her voicemail; bringing the phone to her human ear, completely unprepared for what she was about to hear.

“You have three new messages,” the robotic voice said. “Friday, nine-twenty-three p.m.”

“Blake. I’m sorry,” the message started, Yang’s sad voice coming through quite clearly. “I don’t know what I’m sorry for, since you won’t talk to me so I can figure out what I did wrong. But I can’t forget about you like I know you want me to. You need to know that. You need to know that I wanna be there for you, but you won’t let me,” she sounded frustrated then, a heavy sigh blowing into the receiver. “You must have some reason, something that made you turn your back on me like this. I won’t believe that you’re this cruel, not after the things we’ve been through, not after the things you’ve done, what you’ve said-”

A tone sounded, and Blake heard the report that the next message was recorded barely thirty seconds later.

“Your message bank cut me off, but some stupid machine won’t stop me. You’re gonna listen to this, you have to, I need you to. Right now all I have is a voice message that you might not even hear as my last resort. You changed me Blake, from someone that had no plans for the future. Suddenly, my future was filled with you. There was this time in my life, I was hurt and I was looking for answers,” Yang’s voice wavered, but continued on, “and you were there, playing some heart-wrenching piano piece.” Blake heard a bitter chuckle and a sniffle, while she herself fondly remembered the moment. But it was hard to listen when it was obvious that Yang was close to tears, yet she still was managing to speak. “And that moment felt like it lasted, oh…for many days-” the words became quiet and mumbled as the blonde choked up further, “and I don’t know what that is, but...” Yang trailed off again, but there was an audible moment of composure before she kept going. “Everyone knows that I’m not fine, and it’s because...well, it’s because I-”

Another beep and another report came through similar to the last. The last message played.

“I don’t know if what I said was cut off, it doesn’t really matter whether or not it was, since I’ve given up hoping that anything’s gonna change your mind. I know that I told you that I get it, I get that you need time, space...that’s the last time I could say it with a straight face, because I don’t get it, Blake. I fucking don’t get it. I don’t know what I’m doing at all anymore. I don’t even know if I can turn around and leave you behind, even if that’s exactly what you did to me, when you knew how much it would hurt me.” There it was; that was what Blake was afraid of. Hearing it from Yang just made her feel guiltier, and rightly so. “I don’t know what I’m doing tomorrow...” through tears, Yang almost incomprehensibly uttered, “and baby, I don’t want to do it...unless you’re...”

After the last beep, the voice droned again, “end of messages.”

Blake’s mind short circuited for a moment, especially hearing a term of endearment like baby. “Wait,” she discarded that fact when her brain caught up to what else Yang had said. “Unless I’m what?” The amount of words she could have ended that sentence with was overwhelming, and she’d never be able to guess.

She felt terrible that she was the reason Yang was crying; she’d never seen her cry. The girl had been clobbered in the face and had her nose bent out of shape and she still didn’t cry. She hadn’t even shed a tear when Blake rejected her.

Yang was right. After all they’d been through, how could it make any sense for Blake to treat her this way? She never intended to be cruel, but she knew the definition of cruel. Yang had no idea how much more it would hurt if the White Fang ever caught wind of...whatever they felt for each other.

Blake knew she was being a coward. All she knew how to do was run away from people, hurt them because she was too afraid to tell them the truth and afraid to find a better solution than running. She’d been blinded by her own affection to even try and prevent Yang from growing too attached to her, and for that, she’d failed.

But, after all this...if Yang would let Blake walk back into her life when the time was right, just like the blonde had walked into hers?

Blake would love her with everything she had.

That was the only thing she was sure of.

Notes:

Song: 'Empty House'

This song was recorded in one take, and Matt (the songwriter/vocalist/pianist; I have to point that out since the two permanent members of the band are both named Matt) slapped auto-tune on it to the max and barely touched it before the other Matt approved. They're slurred and spontaneous words, I guess, and even though nobody really understands most of them, it's kind of better that way. It's just meant to make you feel something.

This is kind of a weird chapter, to be honest. It's hard to end something when there's no resolution and no satisfaction of what happened. I hope it's not a bad read.

Let's just all hope there's some bee action awaiting us in canon.