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Winter didn’t know what was more frustrating- the fact that she’d lost her battle with Cinder or the fact that there was a flare of excitement growing inside her as she sat at across from the other student.
Even more frustrating was that she couldn’t figure out how she’d lost. Either Cinder was a better fighter than her- there was just no way- or she’d let Cinder win in order to come along to this date and see what it was like. She wasn’t liking either option, honestly, but it was probably the latter, and Winter kicked herself for it. Nobody could ever know about this.
Then again, knowing her, Cinder would probably tell everyone.
What did it matter that Cinder looked amazing in the dark red dress she’d worn, the same shade as Winter’s favourite kind of rose? She would still be glad when it was over And then, perhaps, things could go back to normal.
She drummed her fingers slightly on the table, unsettled by the lack of silverware or serviettes already laid out for her. “So,” She managed awkwardly, speaking for the first time since they’d arrived. “What do you expect me to eat at this…fast food restaurant?”
‘Restaurant’ was not the appropriate term, Winter felt. Not with all these bright colours, greasy machines sizzling in the background, and kids climbing over chairs and running amuck. No, this was hardly a ‘restaurant’.
Cinder scoffed as she leaned her elbow her the table. Her elbow. On the table. “Uh, a burger? Fries? They do salads if you’re…weight-conscious or whatever.”
Winter blinked. “Oh, are these places where they sell burgers?” She’d honestly never really thought about it.
Cinder stared at her. “Where they…what?” Her honey eyes widened. “Wait, have you never had a burger? Like…ever?”
Winter shifted. Surely it wasn’t that big a deal. “We never bothered with things like that back home. Our butler always served foods with as little…grease…as possible.”
“You actually have a butler?” Cinder’s words sounded like they should have been spoken with an impressed tone, but she sounded more scornful than anything as she rolled her eyes. “Wow.”
“Don’t you?” Winter couldn’t help but be surprised. Just about everyone in Atlas did, as far as she was aware. Then again, Cinder wasn’t from Atlas. Maybe they didn’t do that in Mistral.
Cinder looked around the restaurant scornfully. “Don’t you think I couldn’t have afforded somewhere nicer than this if I was rich enough to afford a butler?”
Winter felt a thread of awkwardness. “I just assumed you’d brought me here as a means of mocking me.”
Cinder huffed. “No way. I would have brought you to the nicest place in Atlas if I could have.” She jumped at her own words as her face turned red and she avoided Winter’s gaze. “If- if you deserved it. Which you don’t.”
Normally, the jab would have annoyed Winter, but now, she just felt…bad. She’d assumed even the worse-off people in Mantle could afford things like butlers and nice meals. This just went to show how little she knew about the outside world. So much for shaking off the ideals of her family.
She looked away. “You’re right, I don’t,” She admitted. “I’ve not exactly been…tactful tonight. I’m sorry.”
Cinder gave her a look of sarcastic amazement. “Is this your second apology of the week? To me? Are you feeling okay?”
Winter scoffed. “Very funny.”
But no, she wasn’t feeling okay. She was feeling sick and weak and twisted. She felt hot and flustered and hadn’t been able to sleep through the night in days. And it was definitely Cinder’s fault.
“So then,” She started, eager to change the subject. “Should I try one of these burgers?”
Cinder’s eyes glowed, and she looked relieved at the subject change as well. “Oh, absolutely. Though, I’m not sure if it’ll suit your refined style.”
Winter ignored the jab again, scanning the table. “So, is there a…menu?”
Cinder waved her hand in the direction of the registers. Following her gesture, Winter noticed that large, flashy screens, showing pictures of all kinds of unhealthy food and drink, shockingly cheap prices next to each item.
“Oh,” Winter glanced from the screens to the registers. “So…do I need to approach the workers to order?”
“Yep,” Cinder smirked, “Do you need me to come with you?”
Winter stood up and brushed down her dress. “No, thank you,” She replied reflexively. “I’ll be just fine.”
Then she had another look at the menu, then back down at the registers, before reconsidering. “…Actually, yes. I think it would be best if you did accompany me.”
Still smirking, Cinder slid from the booth and joined Winter at her side. “What did you want?”
Winter blinked dubiously at the screens as the images on each one changed to show a different item, before changing back again. “Perhaps you should decide.” Part of her was uncertain about allowing Cinder, of all people, to be in charge of her food, but she was not about to make a fool of herself in a place like this. As if just being here, especially in Mantle, of all places, wasn’t embarrassing enough. If anyone recognized her, she was doomed.
Cinder shrugged. “Alright. You may as well sit back down, then.”
Winter glanced back down at the seat. “Right. Of course.” She slid back onto the fake leather seat, relieved to be able to avoid conversation with anyone else in the store. She wondered if Cinder had sensed her discomfort or was just being practical. One could never tell with her.
She watched Cinder talk to the cashier, though she was too far away- or perhaps the restaurant was just too loud- to be able to make out what she was ordering. As the payment due flashed up on the register, Winter watched Cinder dig around in her dress pocket before pulling out some worn-looking lien, then one more note as she realized it wasn’t enough. Winter got the impression that she’d just spent all she’d had on her, and felt a flash of sympathy. If she hadn’t felt bad enough for openly judging before, she certainly did now.
As Cinder turned around and began to walk back over to the table, Winter jerked her gaze away, not wanting to be caught staring.
“Should be here in a couple of minutes.” Cinder reported as she sat back down.
Winter stared dubiously at her. “That fast?” In most restaurants Winter had been to in the past, the food had taken roughly an hour to arrive, sometimes more. It was how the chefs were able to cook and prepare it so perfectly. It seemed unfathomable to Winter that hot food could be cooked in ‘a couple of minutes.’
“It’s called fast food for a reason,” Cinder pointed out with a grin. “That’s what’s so great about these places. You can come in, grab some food, then be back out again in no time.”
Winter was admittedly impressed. It did sound nice to be able to acquire food in such a quick manner.
And sure enough, only a few minutes had passed before a waitress came over with a tray, placed it down, and left again with a quick ‘enjoy your meal’. No annoying small talk or empty flattery, which probably indicated that, thankfully, she hadn’t recognized Winter.
Cinder slid something wrapped in thin paper over to Winter. “Here you go. Your very first burger.”
Winter carefully unwrapped the paper to reveal a pile of bread, meat, cheese, and sad-looking salad. She inspected it, poking it gently with a finger. The bread was soft, sprinkled with what seemed to be sesame seeds.
Cinder huffed at her in amusement. “Come on, Winter, just eat it. It’s not some Grimm that’s going to jump out and attack you.”
Winter tried not to blush in embarrassment. “Right.” Seeing no cutlery, she assumed she was supposed to pick it up. She carefully slid her fingers around the burger and lifted it to her mouth, taking a cautious bite.
She was instantly met with a burst of juice and sauce, surprising herself. The meat was almost tasteless and the salad was unnaturally warm, but it wasn’t bad by any means. It was like eating a fresh ham and salad sandwich, except far greasier, and much warmer. It was almost…soothing, in a way.
Cinder watched her expectantly. “Well?”
“Not bad,” Winter admitted, though it was an understatement. It was quite nice, actually, though probably not something she’d eat on a frequent basis, if just because it would mean coming down here that often.
Cinder looked pleased, and slightly surprised. “Well, well. The great Winter Schnee likes fast food cheeseburgers. Who’d have thought?”
Winter scoffed. “You make it sound as if I’m a picky eater.”
Cinder grinned. “No, but you’ve probably not eaten anything you’ve never tried before since you were a kid.”
The realization hit Winter harder than it should have, though she sensed that Cinder was half-joking. “I suppose that’s…true.”
“Don’t worry,” Cinder assured her. “You’ll be cultured once I’m done with you.”
Once you’re done with me? Winter wondered silently. What did that mean? Did Cinder intend to take her out more after tonight, or was she just saying that to be funny? Did Winter want to go on another date? She couldn’t answer herself.
The subject was dropped as the two finished their food. Winter polished her burger off quickly, enjoying it more with every bite, eventually not even minding the grease over time. And when she was able to wash it down with the raspberry soda Cinder had brought, that was even better, the sweet flavours singing in her mouth even after she’d finished the cup. Aside from Atlas being void of them, Winter couldn’t imagine why she’d not tried anything like this before. She wondered how different things would be if she’d been part of an ordinary Mantle family instead. Very different, she imagined. She wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.
Once they were left with nothing but an empty tray and food packets, Winter stood up. “I’ll be back in a moment,” She told Cinder. If there was one thing she didn’t like about burgers, it was the way the grease and sauce dripped all over her hands.
She washed her hands with plenty of soap, trying to ignore the fact she was in a public bathroom as she covered her hands with a paper towel to turn the tap on and off. Ven if Cinder did boast to their classmates about the fact she’d been able to take Winter Schnee on a date, she hoped she at least didn’t mention this part. Nobody could know she’d willingly used a public bathroom, even if it had been just to wash her hands.
Stepping back out, the first thing she noticed was that Cinder was not at their booth. Scanning the restaurant, she spotted her standing by the trash bins with the tray in hand. An older man was confronting her, and slight alarm flashed into Winter as he realized he was not being friendly.
“…Thought I’d told you not to show your face in this part of town again.” Winter caught from the man as she approached.
“Leave me alone, I’m not here to cause trouble.” Cinder shot back. Despite her narrowed eyes and defiant tone, Winter could sense her underlying nervousness in the way her grip on the tray tightened and her hands slightly shook.
Winter quickened her pace. “There you are,” She said to Cinder, as if she’d not even noticed the interaction. She gently took Cinder’s arm and turned to the man, forcing the politeness she’d been trained all her life to use. “Excuse me, my companion and I were just leaving.”
The man glanced at her, his eyes widening slightly, before a scowl crossed his face. “Don’t bother with this scum, Miss Schnee,” he spat. “She’s not worth anyone’s time.”
Blatantly ignoring him, Winter turned and took Cinder from the store and into the brightly-lit street, still buzzing with people and traffic even at this late hour. It wasn’t until they were several stores away that Winter tried talking to Cinder.
“Do you want to-”
“No.” Cinder’s response was short and tense, her eyes focused straight ahead.
Winter let go of her arm, realizing she was still holding it. She searched for what to say. “He was wrong, you know,” She said at last, her tone gentle. “You’re worth more than he said.”
Cinder scoffed and crossed her arms, still not looking at her. “Sure.”
Winter rubbed her arm. She never knew how to comfort people; it was difficult, even with her younger siblings. Being gentle just wasn’t what Schnees…did. They were supposed to be cold. Strict. Unaffected by the feelings of other people. But Cinder’s feeling affected Winter very much, as frustrating as that was.
“People shouldn’t treat you like that,” She replied softly.
“You do,” Cinder pointed out sharply. “But it doesn’t even matter. It’s fine.”
Guilt speared into Winter at her words, suddenly realizing just how true they were. She knew she’d been unfair to Cinder, but to make her feel unworthy…it wasn’t right. “I’m sorry,” She replied, wishing she knew what else to say. “I never meant to make you feel that way. You can be…childish. And you don’t seem to understand personal boundaries. But you don’t deserve to be treated like dirt.”
Cinder still didn’t reply, though Winter noticed her relax slightly.
“I know what it’s like to be judged based on where you come from,” She continued. “And maybe in my case, they’re right. But I’m sure they’re wrong about you.”
Cinder looked more dejected than annoyed now. “You don’t even know what their problem with me is.”
Winter gazed at her softly. “No,” She replied. “But I know you’re a good person. Even if you won’t admit it. And I…” She looked away so that Cinder didn’t see her blush. “…Trust you.”
Cinder glanced at her slyly, finally smiling again. “Do you?”
Winter tried to keep her composure. “Of course I do. Why wouldn’t I?”
Cinder grinned. “Even though I’m the one who switched your dust canisters with ink that one time?”
Winter almost stumbled, staring at her incredulously. “That was you!?”
Cinder laughed. The sound surprised Winter. It was so…warm. Comforting. How had she never noticed how wonderful her laugh was before?
“You’re so easy to rile up, Schnee,” Cinder chuckled. “It’s fun.”
Winter relaxed. She was back to her old self again. Thank the Gods.
“Let’s get back to Atlas,” She said, glancing at the moon. “It’s getting late. We don’t want to be out after curfew.”
Cinder grinned mischievously. “Aw, come on? Don’t you want to break the rules just a little bit?”
It was tempting, but Winter wouldn’t admit so in a million years. “Absolutely not,” She insisted. “One of us still cares about our grades.”
Cinder huffed. “Yeah, whatever. Maybe next time, then.”
Next time. The words filled Winter with a flare of excitement. As she and Cinder began walking to the nearest transport station, impulse took over and she, very slightly, let her hand brush against Cinder’s, just to feel it. If her Aura embodied ice, Cinder’s was fire, and she could almost hear the sizzle as their fingers touched. It was amazing. Cinder’s words rung in her head the whole way back.
Next time.