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Summary
It’s an impossible balance, a Bermuda Triangle of human nature, and it has to stay that way, a triangle, three dots separated by an unbreakable distance. Blake can look from afar, hold her breath when she catches white or blonde hair dancing on the beach or in the hotel, dream about icy eyes burning her skin with a stare too intense, about lilac eyes soothing her aches by stripping her bare. But she can’t get closer. She can’t give in to Yang’s flirtatious smile, or to her wild desire to pin Weiss against a wall and ask her why, why do you hate me, what did I ever do to you, why can’t you just shut up and kiss me, bite me, scratch me, mark me.