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Vine watched as his Captain approached Qrow once more, this time paying more attention to the way the hunter reacted than the way Clover was bracing himself. The brunette had been turned away several times but he hadn’t been rejected yet, so he kept going back to try again. Vine could admire that resilience but he was beginning to wonder if Clover was actually being turned away or if Qrow simply didn’t realize what was truly being asked of him. Elm had needed to sit him down and actually explain everything for him to understand she wanted to initiate a relationship between them and that all of what he’d thought had been friendly invitations for outings had, in fact, been romantic invitations for dates. So he had to consider that maybe Qrow was making the same mistake he had once made.
Because for all the differences between them, there was a quiet isolation about Qrow that was achingly familiar to Vine.
It made him question just how much of himself Qrow had sacrificed for the war. He, himself, had given up much of who he was to take care of his younger siblings and sickly mother after his father’s passing. Taking on that responsibility had left very little chance for him to connect with others and make friends between working and Combat School. He hadn’t had the chance to explore who he was or who he wanted to be and since he’d gone to Atlas Academy, there was very little encouragement for individuality. He had felt like a blank slate for so long, right up until someone finally looked at him and told him they could see everything he was that he’d never been able to see himself.
In that sense, Clover was very much like Elm.
Clover was as determined in his pursuit of Qrow as Elm had been in her pursuit of him but there were differences between them as well. While he knew that Elm had realized she needed to spell it out for him, he didn’t think Clover realized he may have to do the same for someone like Qrow. Not when Qrow was able to act as if he fit in so well, to behave as if he weren’t slightly disconnected from those around him. But Vine knew the signs. He’d lived them.
So when Clover walked away again, shoulder dropping almost imperceptibly, Vine took it upon himself to do what Clover would not.
Qrow was easy enough to follow and Vine recognized the path to one of the Academies less popular gardens. He knew it because it was one of the places he frequently went to think. He waited until the huntsman had settled down by one of the indoor streams, a miniature waterfall not far away, before he made himself known. Given Qrow’s history as a spy Vine didn’t find it unusual that the other wasn’t surprised at all when he joined him by the water. Qrow had likely known he was being followed the whole time and had simply decided to wait and see what Vine would do.
The Atlesian crossed his legs, folding his hands while Qrow leaned back, hands tucked behind his head. They sat in comfortable silence while the taller man sorted his thoughts, trying to find a way to phrase things that would come across as too awkward, as he sometimes sounded. Eventually he decided that starting with another topic and working his way around might be best.
“You have given much to bring us to where we are in this war.”
“I’ve seen some shit, if that’s what you mean.” Qrow rose up propping his knees up and leaning back on one arm while the other rested across them. Red eyes studied him quietly and Vine wondered if they saw in him what he saw in Qrow.
“I’m certain you have. Though perhaps what you’ve seen has cost you your sight in other matters…” Vine noticed the slight frown of confusion and dipped his head. “Clover wishes to be closer to you, if you would allow it. In much the same way that Marrow wishes to be closer to Jaune.” He heard the other’s breathing stop for a moment as the shock swept through him and waited for it to restart. He remembered being quite off guard when Elm had confessed and he wanted to ensure there was not misunderstanding anymore. “He will stop if you wish it but you must make yourself clear. If not well… The tide can not rise without the call of the moon.”
Vine stood, brushing himself off and giving a parting nod to the silent raven. There was a quiet contemplation in those pale red eyes, thoughts fluttering about as he tried to sort through what he’d learned. Tried to decide if he wanted Clover to continue or stop. Determination and resilience could only last so long after all. If Qrow did nothing then eventually Clover would drift away to others, but if Qrow wanted to take the chance he would know how.
Vine couldn’t stop the small serene smile when he saw barely contained joy in Clover’s eyes the next time he approached Qrow, the smaller man blushing just slightly at the wide grin he received when he accepted the offer to spend time together. Pale blue locked with pale red for just a moment, a silent understanding passing between them before Qrow’s attention was back on Clover, the taller man trying not to let his excitement at being accepted take over. Elm laughed quietly beside him, nudging his arm playfully. He’d told her what he’d done and though she’d rolled her eyes at him, he could tell she was happy about it. Though he still sighed when she tipped her chin at where Jaune was handing Marrow a cup, the Operative’s tail wagging happily. He shook his head, knowing that the blond probably passed it off as Marrow being happy to get his drink. He’d leave the two youths for a bit. Give them time to figure it out on their own before he let Elm, or himself, intervene.