Archive of Our Own ^beta

Summer's not totally sure how she got here.

It's all a whirl of electrical static and neon lights blaring, people laughing and a drink shoved into her hand.

She knows why, though.

Her 23rd birthday was yesterday.

A party of two isn't much of one at all.

But she's still young, Summer reasons.

She said she was going on a mission.

Tai can handle Yang for a night.

A responsible parent wouldn't do this.

A responsible parent would choose their child over their youth.

But Summer didn't sign up to be a parent, not like Raven did.

So she knocks down her first drink of the night, vowing that to be her last sober thought about Tai until the morning.

And for the first time ever, Summer lets go.

A dizzying blur of shot glasses, drunk pick-up lines (both given and received), and a whole lot of strangers later, Summer's lounging on a barstool, giggly and tipsy off her ass.

How does Qrow do this all the time?  Really, it's impressive. She doesn't even think she could spell in this state, let alone fight.

Is that a weird example...? Eh, maybe.

Her dress was askew, barely hiding anything at this point with the high slits up the sides and the low, low neckline.

Damn, if he was here...

Sipping what could be her millionth drink of the night, she cackles as she watches some dumbass trip over a something-or-other.

Another sip.

This is veeeerryyy fruity.

Summer shakes the cup, watching the little bubbles bounce off the sides.

And fizzy.

Readjusting her position, she catches the eye of someone staring at her.

She flashes a charming smile at them, which leads to a lovely conversation she doesn't remember a word of.

Someone else walks in.

Her words die out.

A stranger, dark-haired in a way that could pass for black under the intense lights.

Hm... she'll do for a minute.

Sliding off her stool, Summer slinks over to the stranger.

Her former conversation partner has already migrated to flirting with the bartender, an empty lover like most are intoxicated.

"Hi~" Summer lilts, grinning at the stranger.

They smirk, the confidence not quite right but hitting enough of the right notes that her stomach flips.

Yeah... yeah, they'll definitely do.

And they were fine.

So was the next person, with amber eyes that could pass for red if she only looked when the lights were pink.

And the next, with streaks along their short hair and ear piercings in the wrong places.

Running her tongue over her sore lips, Summer leans against the wall as the heavy beat begins to make her sick.

Tossing her head back to drink her cup of whatever down in one go (based on the burning taste, she thinks it was champagne), she scrunches her nose up as the pounding only gets worse.

Staggering forwards, Summer flicks her strained eyes around.

One night.

She only gets one night.

She's making it count.

Striding forwards with confidence that she's too smashed to have, her eager gaze scans the surrounding strangers.

No one fits.

No one is like him, not even remotely.

A glint beside her, a hand on her shoulder, the hand spins her around-

Him.

He says something, something too quiet.

The thudding bass drowns out everything.

She squints up at him.

"Wh... huh?"

He probably couldn't hear her either, but he apparently got the gist based on his exasperated expression.

He's so attractive, all handsome and kind...

She really likes him.

I wanna...

I want him.

Summer steps forwards, hand stretching out to pull him in towards her so she can finally,  finally-

She staggers, yelping as her heeled boots land on the edge.

Summer's sent staggering into his arms, and she  melts.

Qrow blinks down at the puddle of Summer he's now supporting but decides to just go with it.

Tugging her up to walk, he gently drags her out of the stuffy club and out into the fresh air.

The scent of alcohol and people that had clogged the air empties from her Summer's senses, and she sighs in relief.

Followed up by a near-heave.

No exhaling too hard, message received body.

Qrow curses softly beside her, pulling out his too-bright scroll to tap at something.

She gazes up at him, watching the light glint off his piercings and gently glow against his dark hair.

The red irises she'd looked for all night are overtaken by the violent cyber blue of the screen.

His gaze flicks over to hers, meeting her earnestly shining silver eyes with catastrophic crimson.

Something happens.

Within a moment, there's a feeling.

A spark, a click, a connection, whatever you'll call it.

But a moment is only that, a moment. So quick and fleeting, it's gone before either can so much as twitch.

The silence returns as Qrow averts his stare from Summer's soft face.

"You won't tell him, will you?" She whispers, voice soft.

He doesn't need to ask who.

"Not if you don't want me to. Do you?"

"...no."

"Then I won't."

Tap. Tap. Tap-tap. Tap.

"There's a hotel not far from here. C'mon Summer, let's get you to bed."

She hums, clutching his arm as if to show she needed the support.

(She didn't. But she needed him.)

Resting her head against his shoulder, she never sees the ghost of a fond smile cross the man's face, nor the longing expression that follows as he forcefully reminds himself what Summer forces herself to forget.

But he'll pretend. They'll both pretend, in their own worlds of make-believe, pretending that there's nothing in their way. Pretending they're together, pretending they can be in love, acting out a one-person play from either side of the stage.

But the curtains have to close soon.

So he has one night.

He only gets one night.

He's making it count.

And she is too.