The dimly lit halls of the Atlas military base were unusually quiet as you returned from your patrol. It was almost Christmas, and most of the soldiers had left to spend time with their families, leaving the place eerily lifeless. You, always duty-bound, weren’t one for holiday celebrations anyway, so the emptiness didn’t bother you—at least, not until you heard the familiar sound of black dress shoes echoing down the corridor.

You stopped, a sense of irritation creeping in before the voice even reached you.

“Well, well, look who’s still stuck in her cold tower,” Qrow drawled lazily as he sauntered toward you, his usual cocky smirk firmly in place.

Your eyes narrowed, instinctively straightening your posture. “What are you doing here, Qrow?” you asked, your voice crisp, restrained.

“Thought I’d check in on my favorite Ice Queen. Seems like nobody else wanted to stick around.” His voice was dripping with mockery, his eyes glinting with amusement.

Your hands twitched, resisting the urge to reach for your weapon. You knew Qrow was baiting you, as he always did, and yet, somehow, you found yourself constantly falling into his traps. Perhaps it was his insolence, his complete disregard for decorum, or maybe, just maybe, it was the way his presence disrupted your tightly controlled world.

“Shouldn’t you be off in some bar, drowning your sorrows?” You shot back, turning on your heel to continue your walk down the hall. You had no time for his nonsense tonight.

But Qrow wasn’t about to let you escape that easily. He caught up to you in a few strides, suddenly blocking your path, something dangling between his fingers.

“Oh, Ice Queen…” he said in a teasing, sing-song voice. You froze, your eyes landing on the mistletoe Qrow held above your head. “You know what’s next, right?” He leaned closer, that insufferable smirk widening.