A/N: Finally, I've written something. It's about time. Enjoy!
Ymir, I want to say. Are you still with me?
All I can hear is her soft breathing. She's awake, alright, but she's in a state of absolute calm, and I can only hope I might soon feel the same. How is she doing it? How does she sound so completely unfazed? Maybe it's the sunlight; its warmth washes over us like a friendly hello, as though it wants to remind us it's still here, and that there are still reasons to smile.
I close my eyes and do my best to concentrate on absolutely nothing, but my mind would rather work against me, and instead I think about the grass beneath my fingertips, about the many times we've lain here before, giving up our connections to the world if only for a short, quiet moment together. Once again my train of thought rumbles down the same dangerous tracks it always does, and scenarios race through my head, images of alternate timelines that could never come to pass yet might be happening right at this very moment, somewhere in a parallel universe where life is nothing but flowers and laughter and endless rays of sunlight. All of them bear the same themes; our comrades are happy and alive, and we are happy together. There are no walls in these dreams.
In the distance there's a shout, followed shortly by the blast of a cannon. Another shout – no, wait, that's wrong. Someone's screaming. The sound disturbs me, but I ignore it. With every minute it becomes easier and easier to tune them out. This has nothing to do with us. We still have time. Swallowing loudly, I shove my discomfort into the pit of my stomach and pretend I never heard a thing. We made an agreement, after all. Nothing exists here but us. There's still time.
She's oddly quiet, though.
"Ymir?"
Her fingers scrape over mine; she's heard me, but isn't willing to speak just yet. Sighing, I rise until I'm sitting straight up and gaze down at her, hoping the sheer intensity of my stare will get her to look at me. I hold my breath and wait. After a few seconds, it works; she lets out a long sigh, and slowly her eyes sweep towards mine.
"Sorry," she says, giving me that playful smirk I've grown so fond of. Propping herself up on her elbows, she tilts her head to the side and looks me up and down, her expression unchanging as she takes in the tiny cuts on my cheeks, the dirt which plasters my hair onto my head, the stranger's blood which stains my cloak. "Feeling ignored?"
"Just a bit," I reply. "What were you thinking about?"
"Nothing, really." Maybe I shouldn't have interrupted her meditation. Now that I have her attention, it feels like she's looking right through me. She probably is. She can see the wheels turning in my head, the jumbled visions that make up my conscious, and she knows that I'm breaking the rules. It'll upset her. This is the last time, after all.
She has to understand I just can't help it.
"Are you alright, Krista?"
"I'm not really sure," I reply. But I don't tell her anymore. I can't do this to her. I'm the one who suggested we come here, after all. And I'm not even bothering to make the most of it. "I just..." No. I can't. I won't.
"Come here," she says suddenly. With a rough yank she pulls me into her arms; she's cradling me against her chest like I'm a child, trapping me in a tangle of arms and legs, and I don't protest – I fit so perfectly here, after all. Her heart thumps beneath my ears, its slightly erratic beating betraying the emotions she hides so well.
I glance past her jaw and spy columns of thick, black smoke curling into the air. "Clouds," she states firmly. It's denial. She knows that. I know that.
Today, they're clouds. Neither of us is willing to say otherwise.
"Say, Krista, what do you think we should do after this?"
"Hmm?"
"I want my own house," Ymir tells me, resting her cheek against my head. I can't look directly at her, but I can feel the hum of her throat as she speaks. Somehow, it's reassuring. "Actually, screw that. I want my own castle. There are a ton of abandoned ones out there, ya know? It'd be the easiest thing in the world to find one."
I pretend the rumbling which shakes the ground beneath us is only her voice, that it simply feels magnified when we sit so close. "Can you imagine it, Krista? A castle, a huge one, all to ourselves. We'd be the queens of our own little kingdom in there." There's a faint scream in the distance, but it doesn't stand out; it's only one of many. No, I tell myself, losing track of her words. Stop it. Stop listening.
"Ymir," I murmur, unwilling to interrupt her yet unable to help myself. "Maybe we should –"
"Don't," she orders me firmly, but I just can't do it. Her spell on me is broken – there's no more reassurance, no more ignorance. I'm breaking the rules, I know that, but I can't stop talking now that I've started.
"This is wrong," I say, my voice rising in pitch with every word, "We shouldn't have abandoned the fight like that. We should still be out there! I was stupid to suggest doing this, coming here, I..."
I fall silent as she clenches her jaw tightly, grinding her teeth back and forth. I don't want to upset you, Ymir, you know I don't, but how can we hide like this? How can we be such cowards? I don't need to speak my thoughts aloud. She knows exactly what I'm thinking. She always does.
"We made this decision together, didn't we?" she asks. She spins me around in her lap so now I can see her face, and for the first time I witness her pained expression. What happened to her nonchalance? Had it really disappeared so easily?
Or had it never been there in the first place?
"I'm the one who thought of it –"
"But we made it together."
"We did," I agree. "But...Everyone...one by one we lost them all...and we..."
"And we decided we didn't want to lose each other. Not there. Not yet."
"But all those people out there–"
"We were out of gas, out of blades, how could we fight any longer? We couldn't protect ourselves, let alone them."
"We still should have tried!"
"It would've been suicide, Krista!"
"But it's...it's just so selfish of us!"
"Of course it's selfish! But what does that matter?! There was no possible stand we could make, and frankly, I was okay with that! I didn't want to try anything else. I still don't. All I want is to stay here with you."
Thump, thump, thump. They're getting closer. It's getting harder to breathe, but I don't know whether it's the smoke or my own anxious heart. We don't have much time left. I feel something wet slide down my cheek, and it takes a second for me to realise that I'm crying.
"Don't do that," she says. Where has the authority in her voice gone? Now it's just as shaky as mine.
"I'm sorry," I hiccup. "Y-you're right. Why am I saying these things? I'm s-sorry." Sobbing, I cling tightly to her and bury my face into her neck. If I looked up, I would see the titans, grinning wickedly as they slowly draw closer to our little hiding spot.
No.
I won't look. They're not here. They don't exist.
She is the only reality that matters.
"You were saying something about a castle," I whisper weakly, nuzzling her cheek with my own. The corner of her mouth twitches, and her body begins to tremble beneath mine.
"Shit," she says, a bitter laugh escaping from her lips. "That's right." It's getting harder to hear her – their footsteps are getting louder. "It's where we'll get married." She's crying now. "When this is all over, and things have finally quieted down, we'll run away and find that castle."
"It'd be a bit dusty, wouldn't it?"
"We'll clean it up."
"I can paint the walls."
"You can do whatever you want to do."
A shadow falls over us, but we ignore it. There's no more time. But it doesn't matter.
"And we'll stay together? You and me, side by side until the end?"
"Always."