RWBY - Child Of Light

Chapter 11: Polar Opposites

"Rain? Rain! Wake up, you giant cat!"

I give her a nudge—okay, maybe a few nudges—that nearly send her tumbling off the bed. Finally, she stirs, blinking into consciousness with a sluggishness that borders on comical. Her amber eyes flick to Pyrrha, then to me, her expression muddled with confusion, as if she's double-checking her surroundings.

"Yo..." she drawls, her voice a lazy purr. "What time...?"

I chuckle,. "You've got time before classes."

Pyrrha steps forward, looking far more worried than me. "We just wanted to know who you brought home last night."

Rain blinks, her brain clearly still working through the hangover. "Weiss?"

"Not Weiss," I chime in.

"Huh." She huffs, then scrunches her nose. "Short, loud, drunk... little jacket?"

"Still not Weiss."

She shoots me a silent, blank look, her eyes narrowing as if trying to guess what I want from her.

"Just get up and help us deal with whoever you kidnapped."

With a shrug that seems to say why not, Rain kicks off the covers and rises.

The morning light catches on the inky black stripes that trace her warm, smooth skin from neck to toe. Her hair, usually restrained in a high ponytail, spills down her back in a furry cascade, pooling like a second blanket on the mattress. When she sits up, her chest—normally bound by her tight top—rises and falls freely with more weight than I'd expected. They bounce softly, the twin peaks of her soft-pink nipples hardening instantly as they meet the cold air, a subtle shiver passing through her.

She stretches comfortably, completely ignoring our presence. Arms raised high, the arch of her beautiful back accentuating the feline grace of her form. The motion lingers, as if she has all the time in the world.

Rising to her feet, she moves to collect her clothes, her long legs rippling with lean muscle. Her tail swishes behind her, an invitation—or a dare—that I barely resist. My fingers twitch with temptation, the thought of giving the girl a playful spanking and dying in the same heartbeat calling to me.

Instead, I settle for a grin, biting back my urge as my gaze flickers to Pyrrha. She's staring straight at the floor, her face flushed crimson, the heat of embarrassment betraying her attempts at composure.

"We'll go ahead," I say, gently nudging the redhead out of the room before she spontaneously combusts.

God, I really do have a thing for Faunus, huh.

I laugh quietly, trying to shake off the thought, and step into the next room. This time, I take the initiative, pulling back the covers myself—partly to uncover the mystery, partly to ensure there isn't a drunk, naked stranger waiting to add a crime to my permanent registry.

The first thing I see is a bright-red jacket, its fabric crumpled and wrapped tightly around a slender, ebony-skinned figure. Relief washes over me, though it's mixed with curiosity.

Passed out, she seems smaller, more fragile, her face softened by sleep. The wildness that sparked through her the night before is gone, leaving something that almost feels... innocent. But there's no mistaking her.

Maroon.

The girl who had set the party ablaze now lies curled up and motionless, like an ember that's finally burned low.

"You know her?" Pyrrha asks, as if reading it off my grin.

"Hard not to, to be honest," I respond with a shrug. "She really is the soul of the party."