Caution:

By virtue of being a a 'what if' story, this one-shot contains spoilers for Act One of One New Message. I recommend reading through at least chapter seventeen before reading this.

Thank you.

Jaune was upset.

He and all of his friends had been having a good time at the Beacon dance, until somebody went and spiked the punch bowl with alcohol. Fortunately, most of the people he cared about were unaffected, but Pyrrha unknowingly drunk two of the spoiled cups and had begun acting… affectionate when he took her to the balcony for some fresh air. In the end, he decided to drive her home and let everybody else go home in Ren's van.

He was both surprised and not surprised that the first thing to catch his eye when he entered Pyrrha's house was a massive display case with all manner of trophies and plaques inside of it. Years worth of athletic achievement combined into one showing of how amazing his friend was. Quickly remembering why he was there, he looked at Pyrrha and asked, "Where do you want to lie down?"

"...Bedroom." Her voice was quiet, but clear enough to be heard. She pointed in the general direction of her room, so together they walked further inside. As they made their way, Pyrrha began to ramble. "Hey, Jaune? Do you know what I like soo much about you?"

"What's that, Pyrrha?"

"You never expe- esps- wanted anything from me besides being my friend. My mom, dad, teachers... They all want me to be some big name someday. A star." She looked up at him, her eyes a little bleary. He couldn't quite figure out why. "But not you. You were the only boy that stayed, and even when I moved away you sent letters. My friend... Jaune~"

Jaune smiled a little. He hated her current condition, of course, but there wasn't a person in the world that would be upset at such genuine appreciation. "You're my friend, too, and probably the coolest girl I know."

"Cool? What about... pretty?"

He coughed awkwardly as he continued walking her. 'It's the alcohol, Jaune. Just stay calm.' "You're very pretty, Pyrrha."

"Yaay!" Just as he managed to find her room, she latched onto him harder in sheer happiness. Struggling against the added pressure, he somehow managed to get her to sit on her bed. Once she finally released his arm, he went to the kitchen in order to get her some water.

Finding the cups took him longer than he'd like to admit, but before too long he handed a tall glass with ice in it to Pyrrha. She gulped half of it down before setting the cup on her nightstand. "Thank you~"

She was still buzzed, obviously, but at least she was safe and a little more hydrated. "How do you feel, Pyrrha?"

"Good." She pat the bed close to her. "Sit down, Jaune. Relax."

"If you say so." He obeyed, making sure to keep a little distance from her. Pyrrha wasn't having any of that, though, and as soon as his rear touched the fabric she latched onto him once more. "P-Pyrrha, you're a little close."

"Uh-huh!" She began to nuzzle against his shoulder, just like she had on the balcony in Beacon. "Hey, Jaune?"

"Yes, Pyrrha?"

Nuzzle, nuzzle. "You mean so much to me."

"Thank you. You mean a lot to me, too."

"Jaune?"

"Yes?"

Nuzzle, Nuzzle. "I love you."

He began breathing hard, and he forced himself to keep them slow and deep. "You should lie down, Pyrrha. You're still feeling the alcohol."

The nuzzling stopped, and Pyrrha's emerald eyes slowly rose to look at him. They were bleary again. "Jaune? How do you feel about me?"

"Pyrrha, please go to sleep. We can talk in the morning, okay?"

That was the wrong answer it seemed, because she began to tighten her grip on his hand and arm. He couldn't tell if she was about to cry, rage, or both. "Jaune, th-this isn't the drink talking. I...I like you as a girl to a boy, okay? So, please, tell me how you feel about me."

"Pyrrha, I… think that you're a great girl, and that any guy would feel blessed being your boyfriend or husband."

"...But what about you?" His throat dried completely as he absorbed the meaning of her words. As a server, he knew that alcohol brings out the honesty in people, and Pyrrha was no exception. His oldest friend inexplicably, impossibly, had genuine romantic feelings for him. Him, Jaune Arc, whose only real talents were singing and being an decent older brother.

How did he feel about her, then? Was she just a friend, or someone he could see himself with? Somewhere in his mind a memory stirred, and he briefly lost himself to the past.

Pyrrha, still a child, was clearly on the verge of crying as they sat on the swings in the park. "My family's moving to Mistral in a couple days. This might be the last time I see you."

"So soon?!" His high-pitch voice came out in shock. "But we said we were gonna go to Signal together…"

Sniffling, she wiped her arm across her eyes. "I'm sorry…"

"Huh?" Why was she apologizing? It wasn't her fault. "Pyrrha, don't cry…"

"I'm sorry…" Tears began to fall anyways, unbidden and unwelcome to either of them.

Struggling to deal with everything that was happening, Jaune said- well, *shouted* the first words that came to his mind. "L-Letters!"

Emerald eyes, bleary and wide with surprise, looked straight at him for once. "Letters?"

"Yeah, letters!" The word felt like some strange type of epiphany. "I gave you my address, right? In case you wanted to come over? How about you write to me when you move, that way we can send letters to each other! It's perfect."

"... You promise to write back to me?"

"Of course! An Arc always keeps his word."

And, thankfully, keep it he did. Both of their families must've spent a fortune on postal stamps and writing supplies, because in the end they wrote to each other, on average, about every two weeks. How are you? Have you grown taller? Are you getting good grades? Anything that mattered, and many things that didn't. Movies, music, whatever they felt like mentioning.

Then, one day, the letters from Pyrrha stopped. Not because something bad happened, but because…

Jaune, just shy of fifteen years old, stretched his arms as he hopped off of the bus to school. The ride had been long, but he didn't mind much as he walked from the bus drop-off area to his first class. Sitting down in Professor Port's first period classroom, he looked around for somebody he knew was supposed to be here. An old friend.

He wasn't disappointed. Just before the bell to begin class rang, a tall girl with a curtain of red hair walked through the door, and he broke out in a grin as he recognized her despite the years since their last meeting. Raising his right hand in a wave he said, "Welcome back to Vale, Pyrrha."

Her bright eyes flashed as her face lit up with a smile. "It's good to be back, Jaune."

If he were to be completely honest with himself, he'd never seen Pyrrha as a romantic interest. Not because she wasn't beautiful or amazing, because she most assuredly was, but she always seemed to be so far out of his league that it never registered as a possibility. But here she was, showing him how much he mattered to her, and it felt…

Right. They were great friends, and they could also be so much more. And that feeling is what clinched it for him.

While he had been wrapped up in his own head, Pyrrha had begun speaking. "I-I know that I'm not slim like Weiss is, and I heard that Yang's been coming to your house every week-"

"Pyrrha-" He tried to interrupt her, but she didn't stop talking. Those shimmering, emerald eyes had begun to water even more, and it struck him that she had always been a surprisingly emotional girl.

"-But I think- no, I know that if you just give us a chance-"

"Pyrrha."

He was ignored once more as those tears began to fall for real. "-I-I-I could be the one, we could be-"

Years ago, Jaune had operated on instinct in order to keep their friendship alive; so, he decided to trust his gut again, as it had yet to steer him wrong. Leaning forward he kissed Pyrrha's forehead, causing all of her movements and speech to stop in an instant. He let his lips linger there for a moment or two, trying to convey to her that he was here. He heard her loud and clear.

Once he could tell that she had truly gotten the message, and pulled away and wiped the tear stains on her cheek with his thumbs. "Pyrrha," he said slowly, "would you like to go to a movie with me? There's this Spruce Willis movie that just came out that I was hoping to see. I know it might not be romantic, but we could also go to a park afterwards. Just walk around for a while, you know?"

Pyrrha blinked. And blinked again. Disbelieving, she asked, "Are you… asking me on a date?"

He grinned the same grin she'd always known; wide, goofy, and impossibly warm. For good measure, though, he kissed her head again as he answered, "Of course I am."

"Oh." Pyrrha went limp, letting all of her weight lean into him as his smooch broke and her head went into his chest. He suspected that she'd passed out, but that was jossed when she asked, "Is this real, or just a wonderful dream?"

"It's real, Pyrrha. I don't know how long you've liked me, so sorry if I kept you waiting."

"It's okay." She kept her face in his torso, so he couldn't tell what type of expression she had. "In that case… can I kiss you?"

He chuckled. "I'm not sure what you think about it, but, personally, I don't want our first kiss to taste like alcohol."

"Oh, right." She turned her head to the left, and he finally got a look at the wide smile that adorned her beautiful features. Her eyes were closed, though, and it was apparent that she was falling asleep. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize, you're fine."

"I'm sorry..."

"Pyrrha, if you apologize again I'm going to tickle you."

"I'm… okay." She slipped sideways off of him, lying diagonal across her sheets and dragging him down with her in the process. This resulted in her face being mere inches away from his, allowing him to feel her warm breath as it began to steady into a rhythm. "Stay…"

"...Okay." Allowing himself to sink into the sheets, he silently prayed that they would wake up before her parents returned home the next morning; after all, he didn't want to have to explain to them why he had fallen asleep in the bed of the girl who had gotten tipsy.

X

Pyrrha felt groggy as the tendrils of sleep released their hold on her, and it took several seconds for her to process where she was. She was alone in her bed, sheets covering her but with her prom dress still on. Why had she fallen asleep with-?

"Jaune~"

The previous night returned in a flurry, giving her the sudden, violent urge to smash her face into her pillow. Had she made that much of a fool of herself?! Her head began to ache, and she wasn't sure if it was a hangover or plain and simple irritation. How could she look Jaune in the face now? But then a sensation flashed: the memory of Jaune's lips upon her forehead.

That's right… he asked her on a date. A movie date, if she recalled correctly, and it definitely wasn't a dream.

Her face began to warm up. The scenario was perhaps the farthest from her ideal as was possible, yet, somehow, things worked themselves out. They were, to quote Nora, together-together at last. Speaking of Jaune, where was he?

That was when the smell of cooking eggs hit her, gently enticing her to fill her empty stomach. She held herself back, however, in order to remove the worn dress and slip on a pair of sweatpants and a plain t-shirt. Making sure her ponytail was relatively neat after having slept with it, she made her way to the kitchen.

Jaune was wearing a strange combination of dress pants and a white undershirt, apron donned as he fiddled with the eggs on the burner. Noticing her entrance, he smiled and said, "Morning, Pyrrha. I hope scrambled eggs are okay."

"Good morning, Jaune. That sounds lovely."

"Good!" He paused to examine his cooking. "Your parents called the house to check up on you. I told them that I crashed on the couch after helping you get home, and they gave me permission to raid your fridge to make breakfast."

"Hm?" Something was off. "I thought you fell asleep-"

"Pyrrha, do you really think I was about to admit the whole truth to them over the phone?"

"Oh." Now understanding completely, she sat herself down at the dining room table, which was in open view of the kitchen. Jaune removed the finished eggs from the pan, and in a flash Pyrrha had a plate with bacon, eggs, and buttered toast all set to be consumed before her. As a finishing touch, he poured them both a glass of milk and handed to her directly, which she sipped from happily. "Thank you so much."

"It's my pleasure." He smiled and was about to step away to grab his own seat, until Pyrrha felt a mysterious urge to reach out and grab his wrist. He stopped as her warm fingers wrapped around his skin and gently pulled him closer to her, making him chuckle and look down at her in amusement. "Can I help you, Pyrrha?"

The night before, her forwardness had been driven by alcohol. This, in many ways, was unacceptable for her; therefore, to allow her sober heart to feel what she'd felt prior, she stood up and set her face close to his. It felt refreshing to not hold her feelings for him back anymore. "Yes, you can. I seem to recall you telling me no to something I asked for last night. Is your answer still the same?"

Jaune took his free hand and place it on her face, thumbing a loose strand of hair as he did so. "Maybe. I'm a little new to all of this, so you could always ask it again and see what happens."

She smiled gently. "Then I suppose I shall."

For anyone that was wondering, their first kiss tasted of milk.

And the second kiss.

And the third.

X

Oh my goodness, a genuine Arkos moment from me! I love the poor girl, I really do, so it tore me apart when I… tore her apart in One New Message.

If you're interested in reading a good story built from the ground up around the J and P of JNPR, consider reading Aetheling's "When a Plan Fails" right here on FFnet.

I hope you enjoyed this snippet of fluffiness. Please consider leaving a review, and have a nice day/night!