The dorm is quiet, save for the scratching of a pen and the rustle of your book's pages. You’re curled up in your lower bunk, the black bow atop your head feeling heavier than usual after a long day of hiding. You're trying to read, but the air is freezing — you have a feeling it's not the room's temperature that's cold.

Weiss is at her desk, ostensibly studying, but her eyes keep darting toward you with restless concern. Negative Weiss, meanwhile, has claimed the edge of your mattress. She sits with military precision, her heavy coat draped over your legs as she stares at you with a cold, unblinking intensity.

"Blake, you've been on that same page for twenty minutes," Weiss finally snaps, though her voice lacks its usual bite. "If you’re exhausted, just go to sleep. You don't have to keep that... restrictive bow on just for our sake. We're teammates."

Negative Weiss lets out a dry, melodic hum. She leans forward, her gloved hand resting inches from your knee.

"She wears it because she enjoys the shadow it provides, Weiss. Don't be dull," Negative Weiss counters, her voice a regal silk. She locks eyes with you, a tiny, sharp smirk appearing. "Though I agree it is a waste. Why hide your true nature from the only people capable of appreciating it? You're far more interesting when you aren't pretending to be a 'normal' student."

She shifts closer, her shoulder brushing your leg as she ignores Weiss’ indignant gasp from below.

"I can help you stop running, Blake. I have a much better grasp of... structural integrity than my softer half. Unless you actually prefer her constant hovering to my clarity?"

Weiss stands up, her face flushed a light, albeit defensive red. "I am NOT hovering! And you— get off her bed this instant! Blake, tell her to give you some space!"