A/N: Let me know what you think!

Quirks

Jaune Arc wasn't the best at studying, Pyrrha quickly realized. Her partner was clumsy, struggling to memorize even the easiest of facts. He was constantly getting sidetracked, losing himself in… pretty much everything but his schoolwork.

Pyrrha still insisted on studying with him, though.

He liked to whine and complain at the very mention of looking over their notes, so Pyrrha began slowly adding incentives to do work. "I'll convince Ren to make something after," she'd say. Soon, those words shifted into, "I'll let you read your comics!" and "I'll get you that one popcorn thing you like so much!" Thank the gods Jaune was easy to please, and almost as easily lured by food as Nora.

But he figured it out soon enough, and as the months wore on, she had to change her strategy. "Didn't that new movie come out last week? We could go see it, but if you can't pass the next quiz…" And she'd sigh mournfully, resting her chin into her hands, staring out of the window as if the glass would play the movie she'd never get to see unless he got his act together.

He'd roll his eyes and sigh, but his smile was never far away whenever he asked, "You'd be down to go see it?" And the moment she nodded, he would just brighten and she'd glow in response.

And so, he'd join her. She'd watch him through thick lashes, blush tinting her nose and cheeks. There was always a crease between his furrowed brows, one she ached to smooth away- her fingers twitched on her notepaper, and she had to reign herself in more than once each session.

He'd squint at his chicken-scratch writing, biting the end of his pencil with two front teeth. Those teeth would pull away from his pencil every time he needed to jot something down, and in place of the pencil, his lip would fill the space, teeth tugging, insistent.

And her eyes followed those teeth, the way his bottom lip would always re-emerge, pink, slightly swollen. Pink tongue would flash out for just a moment, and she'd look away- it felt wrong, perverse. But in a matter of moments, her eyes would be straying back to him, almost magnetically.

His fingers would tap against the table every time he began growing impatient. Over time, she knew what to do when she heard the lullabies of his fingertips echoing against wood. In a few moments, a cup of cocoa would be pushed under his nose, and he'd beam gratefully, and she'd melt and smile. Cocoa wasn't that healthy, but she couldn't resist making it for him. And then, the fingertips would quiet again, and she'd know he was satiated by the warmth, by the sweetness, praying subconsciously that he linked those things with her.

She didn't study her notes very well when Jaune was around- but she was good at studying him. Over time, she learned to balance the two actions, creating a separate place in her mind solely to store the little moments with him. His preferred seat shifted from behind across a wide table to being shoulder-to-shoulder, and at first, she refused- it was too close, too intimate. But, every time, as she felt his blond hair brush against her cheek, his neck nuzzling into her shoulder as he fell asleep once more accidentally, notes still spread out in vain on the tabletop before them, she was glad that knowing him was a subject she'd always pass.