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We all wet our lips to prepare for the kiss
But it never came
And we all wet our lips to prepare for the kiss
It was but a game
You have a moan all of your own
And I can feel it down to the bone
Moan by Cute is What We Aim For
It really shouldn’t be so easy to distract her. It’s past closing time, the record store is locked up, and Weiss is pressed against the back wall of the stockroom hallway. Earlier that day she’d decided it would be an easy, dull afternoon, but Ruby Rose always made a point to throw her off her groove.
The soft downpour of rain settles a soft cadence across downtown Vale. Weiss watches the downpour silently, content with the low drum of classic rock beneath the hum of the storm. It’s a lazy Wednesday afternoon, and the shop is empty. Without noisy customers, she lowers the music and follows the trail of rain droplets as they trickle down the window behind the counter.
Across the street, the local sweet store owner is chatting lightly with someone in his shop, and briefly, she wonders who could possibly be chatting him up today of all days. The answer to her question comes quickly as a familiar redhead steps into the dower afternoon, holding her coat up and over her head as she jogs across the street. The taller woman has a guitar case slung over her shoulder, and a cheerful smile across her face, despite the rain. Weiss expects her to jog to her usual busker spot just outside the record store but is surprised when she vanishes around the corner.
There wasn’t much of a reason for the woman to be out in this rain. Even if she was planning on busking, no one was out today despite Weiss’s continued warnings. She hums, turning to take in the empty store. It’s true they’ve only known each other for a few weeks, but the silver-eyed guitarist had a way of getting under Weiss’ skin. The heiress was even starting to think about the tall idiot, even when she wasn’t around.
The bell above the door to the shop dings softly and Weiss says a soft welcome before turning back to the rain. She expects the visitor to browse the store for a bit before making a purchase, but it is a rainy day and anyone there would probably be escaping the rain or on a mission, so she’s only slightly startled by someone leaning across the counter with a soft, “Hello Princess.”
Calm and collected, Ruby leans against the opposite wall. Shoulders pressed against the wall with her long legs in Weiss’ space, she talks animatedly about her next big song. Her guitar is rested against the counter in its case with her leather jacket tossed over it.
Weiss tries to focus on the store, the rain, anything but Ruby’s vibrant smile, and the way long legs brush against her own as she shifts. Her eyes follow excitable hand motions as Ruby mimes a guitar rift and grins playfully. “And then there’s this sweet lyric I think you’ll really like!” She leans forward to tug a small notebook from her back pocket, making Weiss gasp when dark red strands tickle her nose. Ruby continues talking excitedly, standing up in the middle of the hall, just a breath away from Weiss.
“What have I told you about riff-raff in my store?” Weiss scoffs, trying to look away from vibrant silver eyes. Ruby’s response is a soft laugh as she displays a pair of roses to the grumpy manager.
“If you see any, I can escort them out.” She finishes with a wink, but Weiss is too focused on the duo of roses presented to her. A beautiful red and white rose tied together with a piece of thick twine, braided between and around them. There’s a few droplets of water clinging to the petals as Weiss reaches out for them. She’s acutely aware of silver eyes following her movements as she plucks the roses from Ruby’s outstretched hand.
“What’s this for?” Her voice is low, just above a whisper, nearly lost in the downpour outside.
“Some beautiful flowers for a beautiful woman.” She’s just too much.
It’s as if the taller woman had no concept of personal space. Had she ever felt conscious of Weiss’ personal space in the past? The heiress couldn’t remember how they’d gotten to this point anymore. Their first meeting was shouting and flirting and now here they were, in the narrow hallway separating the store from the stock room.
Ruby is still talking, words that Weiss hears but doesn’t understand. They’re not touching anymore, but it’s almost worse with Ruby so close and not touching her. How many times had they made physical contact in their few months of acquaintance? Their date had been chaste, two days after their first meeting. Ruby was kind and understanding, only nudging Weiss’ shoulder as they walked, and never pushing her luck. At the end of the night, the kiss they shared was initiated by Weiss, just a light peck on the cheek that they hadn’t talked about since.
Maybe ten. They had probably made physical contact something around ten times. Each time was electric and awful, and yet wonderful. Ruby is warm and vibrant . She exists in this state of heat and affection that sends Weiss into panic and excitement. Nothing is right except everything . Even now, just a breath away Ruby is courteous, shifting away to show Weiss her journal full of scribbled lyrics and doodles.
“Oh!” A lightbulb blinks metaphorically above Ruby as she holds up her index finger, “I forgot, I brought you something else.” She scurries away to her coat, still thrown haphazardly over her guitar case. The moment of reprieve gives Weiss a chance to breathe as she scrolls through the well-loved journal. A few pages back is a page full of doodles with only a few lyrics for what appears to be a love song. The doodles are of Ruby herself surrounded by hearts and sparkles, till she reaches the bottom of the page. There at the bottom is a detailed drawing of Weiss from the vantage of Ruby’s normal busker spot, and she gazes out the window.
“Got it!” Ruby announces before returning to Weiss’ side. The blue eyes woman is flushed, holding the now closed journal to her chest as Ruby offers a folded-up piece of paper to trade. She tugs the journal from Weiss’s arms and presses the folded paper into her hands. Opening the messy fold, Weiss is greeted with a page of fully flushed-out lyrics, boarded by an intricate rose design. Red and white pops against the off-white paper and the green vine-like stems. “Read it,” Ruby says softly, still just a little too close for Weiss to breathe easy.
The words blur and swim as Ruby edges closer in the narrow hallway, and Weiss has to steady herself with a deep breath. If Ruby has any Idea what she does to her, she’s good at hiding it. Ignoring the heat pressed into her side as Ruby peers over her shoulder, Weiss reads. The lyrics themselves are well done, not that’d she’d ever admit it. Ruby had a big enough ego without Weiss stroking it, but she was impressed. They flow and wrap around her heart, she can almost hear the soft strum of a guitar behind the words as she reads. The end comes too soon and Weiss has to force herself to breathe again.
“It’s for you.” Ruby says, low and filled with emotion, “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”
It’s not exactly a mind-blowing confession, after all, Weiss was feeling the same way. The redhead had infected her daily life in more ways than one, and here behind closed doors, she felt more like herself with the silver-eyed woman, than she’d ever felt alone.
“It’s good.” Really good. An instant hit really.
“Do you like it though? Not like your manager senses, but you , how do you like it?” She’s as close to pleading as Weiss has ever seen her, and it makes her heart flutter.
“ I love it. ”
Ruby’s eyes widen, silver moons full of affection so intense it makes Weiss shiver. The paper flutters to the ground as Ruby moves to face her directly, tan, calloused hands shaking as she places her hands on Weiss’ hips. “Can I?” Her eyes are on pale parted lips, and Weiss can’t speak. Those worn hands are so warm against her, despite the fabric between their skin, she nods.
Their first real kiss is slow, achingly so. Weiss can feel her nerves shock to attention at the touch, unused to the sensation of freely given contact. Ruby shifts to kiss her more firmly, running the warm wet of her tongue against Weiss’ bottom lip. The heiress gasps, clinging to Ruby as if she could somehow stop what is about to transpire. She couldn’t and wouldn’t, she shakes and Ruby pulls her closer, pinning her to the wall firmly enough to stave off the light shutter.
Weiss’ legs shake as the kiss continues, they break apart with a gasp and she nearly collapses, if it weren’t for Ruby’s hips holding her upright, she might have. Mercifully, Ruby bends, grabbing hands fulls of weak shaking hips and hoisting Weiss up to wrap her legs around sturdy hips. Weiss shutters out another shaking breath as she initiates the next feverous kiss, wrapping her arms around Ruby’s neck.
Outside the rain still rages, a gentle downpour that creates a symphony that wraps around the hidden lovers. The backroom is a mess, but Weiss can’t think past silver eyes and swollen lips when she whispers into a flushed ear.
It’s late when they leave, shuffling into Weiss’ car, and heading towards the younger woman’s residence. The night is clear. The rain has cleansed the sky and Weiss is sure of one thing more than any other; She wouldn’t let this frustrating woman out of her grasp, no matter how much she burned.