[ He does ease her into sitting. Despite her desire to remain face-first on the nice, cool floor, she's remarkably pliant. The queasy expression and slightly green tint to her complexion? Well, that'll out in 3... 2... 1...
She doesn't make it to the toilet, or even to the sink. His lap, on the other hand? ... ]
[ He's less exasperated at Pyrrha and more at where the vomit has landed. The sight of the thing alone is enough to make him want to throw up, too, and then they'll just be caught in an endless cycle of pukes. And apologies. Pukes and apologies.
Before that can happen, however, Jaune swings to face the other side and leans his back against Pyrrha - please hold him, partner! He's clumsily undoing his belt and trying to lose his pants while still sitting on the floor. ]
I dunno how Ruby's uncle can drink so much, because this is just ridiculous.
[ He says the name so confidently because he knows that Pyrrha knows who the man is. The only thing she might not have known is his relation to Ruby, it seems. ]
I suppose he didn't get the chance to introduce himself while they forced you--
[ ...well. He doesn't need to finish that sentence, Pyrrha knows better than him what transpired on the day of DESTINY. ]
[ Of course she knows who he is. Even now, the name leaves a sour taste in her mouth, as much as everyone else involved in that little cabal. Everyone who chose her and dressed it up so prettily, feeding her convenient half-answers. Finding out he's related to Ruby (and Yang) makes Pyrrha's blood run cold; she hadn't wanted any of this to follow her.
And Jaune knows - well, he knows something. He puts an ugly, bitter spin on it, refusing to lay any responsibility at her feet. She's not sure how she feels about that.
Once he's shimmied out of his pants, she tries to stand again. Very slowly. ]
I...
[ Once again, she doesn't have words to use for it. Pyrrha simply looks sick and sad and, in an act she'll surely regret later, uses the sleeve of her sweater to wipe at her damp eyes. Last night in all its confusion, her hangover, the humiliation of getting sick all over him, and now this? It's a bit much for a twelve hour time period. ]
[ Luckily, Jaune agrees that this is a topic for another time, maybe when they're both wearing pants and not throwing up all over each other.
For now, he rises up as she does, providing steady support for her since she seems to be struggling more than him. The subtle wipe of her tears don't go unnoticed either and he immediately wants to go back to last night, the part where they both laughed and before the past came back to haunt him. ]
[ Pyrrha allows herself to be ushered without significant resistance. Indeed, Jaune may find himself having to bear some of her weight as she tries to stay standing in defiance of gravity's unusual amount of power over her today.
Standing at the sink, she has to see herself in the mirror and - oh. Yeah, looking as bad as she feels is not good for her esteem. Ew.
In a small voice, she says -- ] Jaune, I'm really sorry about your jeans. [ Trying to wipe her face (not with her sweater sleeve this time); belatedly realising she hadn't taken off her makeup last night. ] Please, let me wash them with my laundry.
[ He certainly won't protest the offer, but his concern only lies with her at the moment. ]
Don't worry about that right now, let's just make sure you're okay...
[ Although he's not entirely sure himself what the protocol for this whole thing is? He starts, at least, by turning on the tap and letting the water flow. ]
...
[ He picks up her toothbrush and applies toothpaste to it, too. Oh hang on, it looks he's figuring out what to do after all! Which is to say, he's waiting for Pyrrha to wash her face and then open her mouth because apparently he thinks he has to brush her teeth. ]
[ She does wash her face, splashing it with water and then using one of the clean towels to clear off whatever lingers from her night out. A fresh face isn't a large difference in the scheme of things, but it does help make her feel better. More herself. Straightening back up, Pyrrha ignores the sharp and angry throbbing in her skull to see...
????
All within a second, she goes from surprised to confused to shyly pleased. The fact that he's willing to brush her teeth for her is adorable. It's unnecessary and a little idiotic, yes, but she knows the heartfelt gesture laying behind it.
The bathroom light changes from a harsh flourescent to a softer, muted pale pink as she takes the brush from him. ]
I think I can manage. [ Although -- ] Actually, can you ... help me back to my room? [ After she's done with brushing her teeth. ]
[ She sounds remarkably patient, given the Dad Voice she was just given. Then again, it's not like she knows that's what it was, thanks to her upbringing.
[ Oh, okay, in that case he'll step back and watch her do her thing. Belatedly, he realizes that this is not a good idea because he's kind of in view of her pantsu and... well. As tempting as it is to just stare, he ultimately steps forward again, standing beside her. But now he's closer to her again and it's still weird!! JUST LET THE WOMAN BRUSH HER TEETH AUGH ]
Uh. You-- missed a spot.
[ He's kidding, and only trying to fill the long silence. ]
[ She can absolutely see him briefly staring at her butt in the mirror, fyi. No protests here. Besides, she's definitely too hungover to make a fuss about it, even if she were inclined to. Finishing with her teeth, Pyrrha spits the leftover toothpaste into the sink and rinses off her face one last time.
When he makes his little crack, she simply flicks a few droplets of water into his face. ]
[ She's fine. The only further damage was to her dignity. It's probably for the best, all these little (or, in the case of throwing up on him, quite large) embarrassments that Jaune is witnessing. As far as she's concerned, displaying such a lack of grace means he won't want to kiss her again for a long, long time. Perhaps ever. ... Definitely for the best.
She opens the door and -- squints at the outside hallway.
[ Don't trust him with remembering what's left and right. What he ends up doing is gently taking Pyrrha by the arm and leading her towards Nora's room - luckily it's not far! While they're standing so close, he inspects her nose from the side. Could it be broken? It doesn't seem to be. ]
[ It's not broken, no! It isn't even mildly injured.
Once they get in to Nora's room, it's pretty obvious what happened. At some point in the middle of the night, Pyrrha had gotten sick in her own bedsheets. Too hungover to contemplate washing them, she had simply switched beds and slept in Nora's for the remainder of the night.
So, once they reach the appropriate bed, she just kind of. Falls onto it.
Muffled: ] Thank you, Jaune.
... [ There's a slight hitch, nearly a syllable but indecipherable, like she wants to say something else. ]
[ There's a lot he would like to say, too, but it doesn't feel like the best time. He's not even sure yet if Pyrrha is going to remember any of this, but she probably will, and so will he.
As Pyrrha lies, he lifts her head slightly to slide a pillow underneath it, and then covers her up with Nora's clean sheets. ]
[ Turning her head, she peers up at him. She's very tired still, but can stay awake a few moments longer.
Partners... Well. ]
Right. We're partners.
[ -- and that's all. Whatever she came close to last night, it was not for her. She'd have to live with that, and maybe let go. It hurts but the hangover oddly helps give her some perspective, because it can't possibly hurt as much as her head does right now, and pain is transient. She'll live through it and she won't be losing anything that was ever really hers to begin with. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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I'm fine, Jaune.
[ He does ease her into sitting. Despite her desire to remain face-first on the nice, cool floor, she's remarkably pliant. The queasy expression and slightly green tint to her complexion? Well, that'll out in 3... 2... 1...
She doesn't make it to the toilet, or even to the sink. His lap, on the other hand? ... ]
I'm sorry...
[ dust just let her die here ]
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[ He's less exasperated at Pyrrha and more at where the vomit has landed. The sight of the thing alone is enough to make him want to throw up, too, and then they'll just be caught in an endless cycle of pukes. And apologies. Pukes and apologies.
Before that can happen, however, Jaune swings to face the other side and leans his back against Pyrrha - please hold him, partner! He's clumsily undoing his belt and trying to lose his pants while still sitting on the floor. ]
I dunno how Ruby's uncle can drink so much, because this is just ridiculous.
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... wait, what? ]
Who?
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[ He says the name so confidently because he knows that Pyrrha knows who the man is. The only thing she might not have known is his relation to Ruby, it seems. ]
I suppose he didn't get the chance to introduce himself while they forced you--
[ ...well. He doesn't need to finish that sentence, Pyrrha knows better than him what transpired on the day of DESTINY. ]
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And Jaune knows - well, he knows something. He puts an ugly, bitter spin on it, refusing to lay any responsibility at her feet. She's not sure how she feels about that.
Once he's shimmied out of his pants, she tries to stand again. Very slowly. ]
I...
[ Once again, she doesn't have words to use for it. Pyrrha simply looks sick and sad and, in an act she'll surely regret later, uses the sleeve of her sweater to wipe at her damp eyes. Last night in all its confusion, her hangover, the humiliation of getting sick all over him, and now this? It's a bit much for a twelve hour time period. ]
I suppose not.
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For now, he rises up as she does, providing steady support for her since she seems to be struggling more than him. The subtle wipe of her tears don't go unnoticed either and he immediately wants to go back to last night, the part where they both laughed and before the past came back to haunt him. ]
H-Hey, c'mon, you're gonna dehydrate...
[ Walk with him to the sink please. ]
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Standing at the sink, she has to see herself in the mirror and - oh. Yeah, looking as bad as she feels is not good for her esteem. Ew.
In a small voice, she says -- ] Jaune, I'm really sorry about your jeans. [ Trying to wipe her face (not with her sweater sleeve this time); belatedly realising she hadn't taken off her makeup last night. ] Please, let me wash them with my laundry.
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Don't worry about that right now, let's just make sure you're okay...
[ Although he's not entirely sure himself what the protocol for this whole thing is? He starts, at least, by turning on the tap and letting the water flow. ]
...
[ He picks up her toothbrush and applies toothpaste to it, too. Oh hang on, it looks he's figuring out what to do after all! Which is to say, he's waiting for Pyrrha to wash her face and then open her mouth because apparently he thinks he has to brush her teeth. ]
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????
All within a second, she goes from surprised to confused to shyly pleased. The fact that he's willing to brush her teeth for her is adorable. It's unnecessary and a little idiotic, yes, but she knows the heartfelt gesture laying behind it.
The bathroom light changes from a harsh flourescent to a softer, muted pale pink as she takes the brush from him. ]
I think I can manage. [ Although -- ] Actually, can you ... help me back to my room? [ After she's done with brushing her teeth. ]
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Pyrrha, you can't brush your teeth in your room.
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[ Oh, you gorgeous idiot. ]
Yes, I know. I actually meant after I was done.
[ She sounds remarkably patient, given the Dad Voice she was just given. Then again, it's not like she knows that's what it was, thanks to her upbringing.
Gonna brush those teeth now, brb. ]
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Uh. You-- missed a spot.
[ He's kidding, and only trying to fill the long silence. ]
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When he makes his little crack, she simply flicks a few droplets of water into his face. ]
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O-Okay, c'mon now, we need to get you to bed. You ready to go?
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[ By now, she's so thoroughly emptied the contents of her stomach that she can move without fear of inciting more nausea.
Too bad she moves to leave the bathroom and slams right into the closed door. ]
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You just walked into a closed door! ...Are you okay?
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SHE WAS THERE ]
Uh.
[ She's fine. The only further damage was to her dignity. It's probably for the best, all these little (or, in the case of throwing up on him, quite large) embarrassments that Jaune is witnessing. As far as she's concerned, displaying such a lack of grace means he won't want to kiss her again for a long, long time. Perhaps ever. ... Definitely for the best.
She opens the door and -- squints at the outside hallway.
Which way to her room, again? ]
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[ Don't trust him with remembering what's left and right. What he ends up doing is gently taking Pyrrha by the arm and leading her towards Nora's room - luckily it's not far! While they're standing so close, he inspects her nose from the side. Could it be broken? It doesn't seem to be. ]
...still straight, perfect...
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Once they get in to Nora's room, it's pretty obvious what happened. At some point in the middle of the night, Pyrrha had gotten sick in her own bedsheets. Too hungover to contemplate washing them, she had simply switched beds and slept in Nora's for the remainder of the night.
So, once they reach the appropriate bed, she just kind of. Falls onto it.
Muffled: ] Thank you, Jaune.
... [ There's a slight hitch, nearly a syllable but indecipherable, like she wants to say something else. ]
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As Pyrrha lies, he lifts her head slightly to slide a pillow underneath it, and then covers her up with Nora's clean sheets. ]
Don't mention it. We're partners, right?
[ Are they still? He hopes so... ]
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Partners... Well. ]
Right. We're partners.
[ -- and that's all. Whatever she came close to last night, it was not for her. She'd have to live with that, and maybe let go. It hurts but the hangover oddly helps give her some perspective, because it can't possibly hurt as much as her head does right now, and pain is transient. She'll live through it and she won't be losing anything that was ever really hers to begin with. ]
Good night, Jaune.
[ it's like ten in the morning you idiot ]
I'll see you later.