AN: I started this quite a while ago and hadn't planned on finishing it, but after a very emotionally rough night, here we are. I deal with my problems by writing out my emotions. Oops.
I'm thinking about writing a continuation, which would mean one more chapter, or two more at the most. But that plan's not set in stone. So for now, this is simply a one-shot.
Daydreams of Honey Hues
I've been observing the world around me since I was a kid. Maybe it's a learned survival mechanism. If I pick up on the small things, the physical gestures and shifting expressions, I know how to react. I can be prepared to avoid any sort of conflict.
I grew up in an unstable home; a past that I'd rather not get into. But I survived nonetheless, and was out on my own by the age of seventeen. I can't quite imagine it playing out any other way.
I used to go through jobs quickly. Some people can't deal with girls who keep quiet. In an extroverted world, my survival tactics are seen as cold and evasive. However, I've been at the same coffee shop for a little under a year now. In my twenty-two years of life, this is the most stable I've felt. My apartment's just a few blocks away and at times it all feels too convenient.
My doubts aside, I'd been watching a reoccurring couple for months on end. They first showed up on a rainy afternoon. I find it odd how detailed this recollection is. The brunette came in without an umbrella, the chime of the door followed by squeaking footsteps. Her short hair and dark jacket were nearly soaked. I stared at her lean form for almost a minute before she eventually looked back. I can easily recall the heat rising up my neck.
Upon further observation, I mentally noted many things. Firstly, I thought the smaller girl worked nearby, because her girlfriend always got here first. Secondly, the girlfriend, the brunette I gawked at on that initial day, must've had a relatively set schedule. She arrived at the same time every instance, with only a margin of error of three minutes. Trust me, I've counted. She ordered the same drinks for the both of them, flirting in an almost polite manner with me at the register. I tried not to consider it as any more than playful banter. She would then wait out the next five to ten minutes by the window.
In the beginning she had this subtle glow about her, like the domestic simplicity of the situation made her feel at ease. She had soft eyes, like melting honey. I often stared at her too long on off days, spacing out as I got lost in her expectant gaze. Of course, she would just waiting for her usual change and receipt.
When her girlfriend got here, they'd embrace for a few moments. Oh, right; thirdly, they must have not lived together. And then they would settle in, talking for an hour on average. I found myself envying their quaint conversation and easy company. They appeared so naturally engaged; both invested and comfortable.
I can never get girls to stick like that. I guess I have a tendency to scare people off, if given enough time. Although mostly, they're simply intimidated from the start, and avoid me altogether. I've been told, in not such a polite manner, that my resting expression is nothing short of bitchy. Someday, I like to think, I'll find a girl who wants to stay. Maybe she'll be half as warm as the freckled woman by the window.
And then I'd have to remember that fantasies are merely fantasies. My reality is not so pleasant, and I couldn't expect it to drift so drastically anytime soon.
Yet my hope held on by a string as thin as a spider's web. I'd daydream and zone out and even look forward to the days they were here. The days she was here.
It didn't take long, with my uncharacteristic pleasantness and forlorn comments, for me to learn her name. You'd think we'd write the names on the coffee cups, but the store had a rigid system of assigning each drink a number. I know. Strange.
But I remember the simplicity of her tone, the tiny upturn of her lips, when she told me. "Ymir." I wanted to say it too, however I had still had some ounce of resistance left and opted for a normal response. I think I said something like, "How unique. Is it weird to say it suits you?" She laughed lowly. I remember that for certain.
Her girlfriend's name was Annie. That one I picked up on my own. You'd think it wouldn't have been so difficult, but Ymir constantly called her "shortie" or "blondie" rather than her actual name. Although I will admit that the nicknames were cute. Annie didn't seem to mind either, their love-struck conversations continuing nonetheless.
It must have been five or six months that this continued for. My small glances, Ymir's easy laughs, and Annie's cool responses. Every few days, the same routine. And Ymir, that girl with the captivating honey eyes started to remember my name, engaging in joking discussions ever so often. She didn't find my withheld demeanor frightening. I was beginning to grow accustomed to it.
Then, as the weeks waned on, that glow in her cheeks gradually faded. They stopped hugging when they met, and the smaller woman's eyes would wander. They looked tired. Annie's exhaustion appeared more physical. Maybe work was stressing her out. A family issue, perhaps? I didn't know enough about her to properly guess. The taller woman's issue seemed to go deeper though. She held herself in a sluggish manner, and her bright demeanor disappeared. I'd be tempted to say a piece of her was dying ever so slowly.
And then, the visits simply stopped. I waited a week before drawing any conclusions. It threw me off at first, then I remembered that the change really wasn't so sudden. I'd been witnessing their relationship falling apart for at least a month now. I couldn't comprehend what went wrong.
As two more months crawled by, I didn't think I'd miss Ymir this much. She'd just been a regular customer. Something that grew familiar that I unwillingly grasped onto. I never meant to get attached.
And then the holidays came around, the loneliest time of year. I took long walks in the city during the evenings, a small distraction from the everyday. I adored the lights. It was a display straight out of my early childhood. I wonder if it was an odd sight though, a young girl walking alone, focusing only on the lit window panes and outdoor displays. I know the couples never paid me any heed. They were so caught up in their task of Christmas shopping.
But one night, I saw her, breath fogging in front of her face. She was bundled up in a jacket, expression solemn and spine rigid. There were others beside her, seemingly unaware of her tired composure. They were laughing, flushed and appearing a bit tipsy. A social outing, I guess.
I didn't realize I'd been staring from a couple yards away until the group split, everyone aside from the freckled woman leaving in the opposite direction. She shot them a weak smile as they departed, and gave one last, long glance at the glowing building before us.
"Christa" she stated promptly, gaze sliding over to meet mine. I instantly grew red. She shifted her body slowly to face me. "How coincidental seeing you out here," she briefly looked down at her phone screen, "And at this hour too."
"Had a bit of shopping to do" I quickly tried to explain. She eyes met my empty hands, and I resisted hitting my stupid self. Of course, that was the one sane explanation I could conjure.
"Uh huh" she replied simply. A group of loud men strolled by, and her shoulders tensed at the obtrusive noise. Her eyes were narrowed and lips drawn tight. "Live nearby?" She asked casually.
I gaped for a second, then nodded. "Great. I'll drive you home. Got any other destinations on the way?"
"No" I said simply, having no desire to disagree with her sudden plan of action. I moved to stand beside her, and she lead me toward a parking lot a block away. In my defense, I rarely followed near strangers to their cars. Only on dates and work-related outings, alright? And honestly, it didn't look like she even had the energy to try anything. Her eyes were heavy lidded, lips permanently downcast, and skin much paler than usual.
So I entered her car, quickly situating myself in the passenger seat and gearing up for a semi-awkward ride home. And oh dear, was it uncomfortable. She asked me how work was going, if the shop was busy during the holiday season, what my holiday plans were. Typical stuff. She sounded so blandly disinterested that I debated whether or not I should bother answering. It was quite a confusing sign; she took the time and effort to help me home late at night, yet gave zero shits about what had been happening since I'd last seen her.
Getting just the slightest bit fed up by the time we arrived in front of my apartment complex, I unbuckled and turned to her. I bit my lip for a second, half of me wanting to simply keep my mouth shut and leave, then try to forget the night even occurred. Of course, my slightly angered curiosity got the better of me that evening.
"Ymir" I said in a hesitant voice. Ah, it's been awhile since I uttered that name. "You stopped coming by for coffee."
Her eyes finally left the idle steering wheel as she looked at me with an expression so much more lively than I'd witnessed in a long time. Then she blinked, reality sinking back into her brain, and she smiled in a manner that I interpreted as cynicism. "So you noticed" she answered in a slightly humored tone. "I'm actually surprised you remember me at all."
"Are you kidding me? I used to see you three times a week" I argued, unconsciously smiling at her real response.
She began picking at a loose thread on her coat, expression contemplative. "Well, stuff happened, you could say" was her abrupt reply to the previous inquiry.
No shit. "Oh" I uttered instead. "Is, uh… Is Annie doing okay?" I asked quietly. Was it wrong to want to confirm my suspicions?
"I wouldn't know" Ymir said honestly. The sky was clouded outside, the temperature of the car bordering on cold, and yet my heart thundered on rather than freezing over. "Haven't talked to her in a while. Y'know," she paused, rethinking her next statement, "I'm kind of sorry I just stopped coming by."
"Why?" I asked with a nervous laugh. "It's not like you had an obligation to visit me."
She hummed, the corner of her mouth lifting in a half-smile. I wanted her to look at me. I wanted to see her honey-hued eyes. Her gaze remained fixated on that loose thread, however. "Yeah, but I liked our little conversations. I just couldn't go back after…" She stopped. I swear I could see the gears in her head shifting as she debated whether she should actually say it. Then she exhaled very slowly, and continued. "We broke up. It's like, I started to hate everything that I associated with her and I didn't mean to cut out that pleasant part of the past as well."
I didn't want to tell her how she should've handled the situation. I could already tell that it'd shaken her up quite a bit. But again, I apparently couldn't help myself. "Then just don't think of it like that." I shut my mouth and frowned. "Okay, wait. That was a stupid way of phrasing it. More like, try to associate it with the good rather than the bad? It always seemed more of your getaway than hers." I rubbed my pale and nearly numb hands together. "From my perspective, at least."
Y'know, this is why people think you're a bitch. You poke your nose into what you shouldn't. And you sound so apathetic about it too, my mind immediately criticized. Yet, glancing over at Ymir, she didn't appear bothered by my words. Somewhat surprised? Yes. Offended? Strangely, no.
"Huh" she merely replied. Then, quite shockingly, she huffed out a brief laugh. "You're right." Her chest heaved with a few more silent chuckles, face now buried between her two hands. "God, now I feel even worse" she eventually added, sounding out of breath.
"Don't" I swiftly interjected. "I get it. And it sucks that things have been so rough for you. Don't take this the wrong way, but you used to look so much happier." The words spilled out of me like a landslide. I was nervous, yet excited. Should I be excited?
She uncovered her face, and steadily held my gaze. "You really were observant." I shrugged, not entirely embarrassed over it. "Now that I think about it, you used to stare with those cute flushed cheeks. Now I'm wondering how I forgot about that." My heartbeat hammered within my ribcage. I was genuinely afraid the organ was going to burst out. She called me cute. I mean, she'd totally noticed the staring, but she called me cute.
"Yeah. Sorry… I sorta had a huge crush on you" I admitted, realizing there was no turning back now.
"I don't think you can 'sorta have a huge crush.' It's a bit contradictory" she commented, thoroughly amused. At least she wasn't annoyed or put off by my confession.
I gaped, wanting to say something witty, perhaps even charming. Instead, I sat still with balled fists in my lap, skin pink with a raging blush as I felt the full weight of her gaze. Her eyes travelled down to my parted lips, frozen on a phrase I couldn't conjure. Then she looked back up at my semi-concerned, semi-joyful eyes. "I probably shouldn't be teasing you" she stated quietly.
I shook my head, attempting to express that it was fine. I could handle teasing. In fact, it was one of the things that I really enjoyed about her. And yet, there were still no words on my lips. Then I knew, just an instant later, if I let this mutual silence drag on, the conversation would end altogether. It'd be over. I'd go inside and she'd leave and I'd probably never see her again. So I acted fast, probably on instinct.
"Do you want to come inside for a bit?" I blurted.
She appeared quite taken aback by my sudden loud tone for a few moments, then glanced down at her lit dashboard. She grabbed the key and shut the car off, finally meeting my eyes once again. "Sure."
"No roommate?" Ymir inquired as I flicked on the lights. She wandered toward the open front room to sit on the single sofa. At the back of the space was my small kitchen, divided from the living area by a single counter. On the adjacent wall was the door to my bedroom.
"You choose very suspicious questions" I commented, quickly throwing my coat on my bed before moving toward the kitchen to make a hot drink.
"Oh, sorry. I swear I'm not a rapist."
"But would a rapist really admit that they had disgusting intentions?" I questioned back, lighting a burner on the stove.
"You have a fair point" she conceded, eyes still inspecting the entirety of my living space.
"Do you like tea?" I prompted, setting the kettle to heat. I rifled around the cupboard, hoping that there were some clean mugs left. Luck was on my side this evening.
"Yeah" she replied simply, flipping through a book I left on the side table. She definitely wasn't shy; I'll give her that. "Where the hell do you find lesbian novels?" She asked, taking the time to read the summary.
"Takes a lot of internet searching and rifling through reviews, but the material's out there. Shocking, I know." After setting up the tea bags, I leaned against the counter and merely watched her. What a familiar position. "You don't strike me as the type of person that reads very often, though" I added.
She glanced over and lifted an inquiring brow. "You're confident" I began to explain, feeling suddenly anxious as the focus of her attention. "Confident people go out and have social lives. They don't have to resort to fiction like I do."
"Hm" she replied simply, and set the book back. Ymir rose from the sofa in one fluid motion and calmly made her way to the dividing countertop. She leaned her elbows on the smooth surface, and met my captivated eyes. "I guess that's fair. I haven't done much reading since my university days."
I laughed lightly as the water continued to boil. "You say that like it was so long ago."
She was quiete for a longer period than I was expecting. "It sort of was" she responded. A smile crept its way onto her lips as an expression of confusion contorted my features. "Christa, how old do you think I am?" She asked in a low tone.
I blinked a couple of times before answering. "Somewhere near my age? Early twenties?"
Her head fell forward as her shoulders began to shake with laughter. I quite plainly didn't get the joke. She couldn't be that much older. She really didn't have any wrinkles, appeared relatively fit, and wore clothes a young adult would. I mean, I suppose she had one of those faces that give you a five year range.
"Are you going to tell me what's so funny? Or do I need to guess that as well?" I eventually prompted. The kettle started whistling in the background. Her chuckling continued, so I merely rolled my eyes and turned to shut off the burner.
Once I'd moved back to my previous position, her shaking had let up and her breathing began to even out. "God, you're wonderful" she said in a genuine voice. I gaped for a little while, then remembered to shut my mouth like a normal human. "Sweetheart" she then finally explained, "I'm thirty-one. Thirty-two in a couple of months."
"What?" I enunciated in a higher than usual pitch. "How?"
That amused grin wouldn't leave her face, and it only widened at my follow-up question. "I'm flattered, truly. I knew I had great skin, but damn, I must be next-level hot."
"You must be kidding" I groaned out, running a hand through my hair. "I cannot be pining after a woman nearly a decade older than me."
"There's a first time for everything" Ymir commented simply. Then she backtracked a bit, thinking over my previous statement. "Pining?" She echoed slyly.
Now it was my turn to laugh, although this time it was in a short and dry manner. I took a couple steps away from the counter and Ymir, pouring the hot water into the mugs. Choosing not to respond, I merely asked "Honey or sugar?"
"Honey, please" she responded. I could feel her watching me as I opened another cupboard. After retrieving the bear-shaped container, I opened it over one of the cups and focused on the slowly dripping liquid. Was it getting hotter in here, or was it just the steam from the tea?
I nearly gasped upon turning back around. Ymir had silently moved around the counter, and was leaning against the same surface from inside the kitchen. Just a few feet away from me. "Dammit. Warn me before you sneak up like that" I muttered, grabbing her mug and cautiously handing it over. She accepted it gratefully and blew on the top a few times.
"You just drink it plain?" She asked.
I nodded. "I'm not really into sweet things."
"Let me guess, you drink your coffee black."
"Ha" I exclaimed. "Wrong. I don't drink coffee."
She raised her brows in an inquiring manner. "And yet you're a barista?"
I shrugged. "Seemed like a simple enough job when I was applying."
She took the first few tentative sips of her tea, maintaining a fairly neutral expression while I simply held my own warm mug between my palms. It was odd, being the focus of those gentle eyes. Being the one across from the freckled girl with a radiant smile. I felt like a bit of her old glow was returning in those minutes we'd spent conversing. Maybe I was just naïve. A hopeful young girl relying too heavily on her fantasies. But there was something about today that felt different from the others I'd spent with her.
"You're staring" Ymir commented in a relaxed tone.
I blinked blankly, and almost apologized, until I noticed how thoroughly unbothered she was by it. "I'm assuming you see this as another form of flattery?"
The corner of her mouth quirked up around the rim of the mug, no words required to confirm my suspicion. "I'm tempted to say you're unbearable" I stated with a small smile on my lips, "But I honestly don't mind. You… I don't mind you."
She moved the cup away from her lips, then lowered it altogether. She looked like she was at a loss for words, a stricken expression marring her face as if a massive realization dawned on her. I started talking before I could think it through. "God, I'm sorry. I shouldn't be saying stupid flirty things like that. You went through a breakup not long ago, and clearly it hurt. I don't want to open old wounds or put you in an awkward position. I'm just… Sorry."
She placed her mug on the countertop and shook her head, that incomprehensible expression morphing into one of mild concern. "No. It's fine. I'm a grown woman, sweetheart. I've come to terms with my shit. I'm fine" she firmly assured.
"Okay" I said hesitantly. I worried my lip for a few seconds, wanting to say something but scared that I was seeing the moment in an incorrect light. "W-when I said I used to have a huge crush on you-"
"Sorta had a huge crush" she coyly interrupted.
I sighed overdramatically. "Right." And that's how you ruin a slightly romantic mood, I thought, now somewhat downtrodden. But then I met her expectant expression, prompting me to continue anyway. Surprised, I glanced down at my tea, and back up. Oh shit, I'm actually doing this.
So I took a deep breath and continued. "I was lying when I suggested that the crush was something of the past. I didn't expect to see you again, and that idea really sucked. But now that you're here and acting so irritatingly charming, I'm reminded of how much I like you. I didn't want to act on it but, of all things holy and gay, I really like you." Did that come out too fast? Surely my nervousness was evident. Of course, all of my thoughts and doubts flew straight out of my mind as soon as she spoke.
"Obviously" Ymir stated easily, taking a small step closer. "You're pretty bad at hiding how you feel" she said, followed by a low chuckle.
I had no words, to explain simply. She was closer than ever before, and I didn't know how to deal with the proximity. I could practically count her freckles from this new distance. And her eyes, oh damn, those gorgeous irises were focused solely on me, trying to interpret my expression, gauge my reaction.
"I'm teasing you again, aren't I?" She whispered after our long pause. My lashes fluttered unwilling as she leaned in further. "My apologies."
I took a sharp intake of air, anticipating what came next. Ymir closed the small remaining distance. All too soon her lips were on mine, and it felt like fireworks went off in my chest. I experienced an unbearable elation. After all the daydreams and forlorn waiting, the result was so much more than I could have expected.
Her right hand quickly found its way to the back of my neck, gently holding me steady as we slowly kissed. I tried my best to take it all in, the sensation of her full lips, the heat of her skin, the comfort of the action in its entirety. I wanted her, I wanted more, and I wanted it all now. But the fuzzy feeling in my limbs at the soft manner of our kiss was too wonderful to disrupt. What came next, the hunger, passion, and impatience, could wait. Right now though, I felt light. I felt complete.
I smiled against Ymir's lips. She backed away an inch. I glanced up at with her the most joyful expression I think I've ever held, then kissed her again. She tasted like green tea and honey.
AN: If you have any questions about a second part or a continuation of some sort, read the author's note at the top. That aside, reviews are welcomed and appreciated.