It's nice to finally be under warm sheets Ymir thought as she made herself comfortable in her bed. Her muscles ached and longed to finally relax.

Today she and Christa had volunteered to strenuous training that became complicated quickly. They were stuck with Dazz, who was under the impression that he was more than capable but couldn't be more wrong. To make matters worse, Christa insisted that they take him with them to get help. Her big blue eyes bore into Ymir's soul when she told her that she wasn't going to leave him behind even if it meant risking her own life. Ymir remembered how much it angered her how much she was willing to sacrifice her own life for someone else. It was because sweet, sweet Christa thought if she died helping someone, she'd be seen as a saint. She thought that people would care about her and her sacrifice.

You already matter to me, Ymir thought before she could stop herself. She furrowed her brow and groaned, frustrated at herself for thinking such a thing. Yet the thought kept running through her head. You already matter to me. You already matter to me. SHE MATTERS TO ME.

Ymir moved to lie on her stomach and pressed her face into the pillow, hoping it would smother the thoughts.

If you don't care, then why did you do it? Why did you transform? Ymir groaned again. She tried to reason with herself, that she didn't want Christa to waste her life on a pathetic man who pushed himself to hard, that she could not convince her to leave her behind and therefore there was no other option. But still, it bothered her, to know that she would turn into the monster she truly is to help Christa.

That's what I am. A monster. Why did she even make that promise with her? To reveal who she really was, WHAT she really was, if Christa told her her real name? If Christa ever found out what she truly was, Ymir was afraid she'd never want to see her again.

I wouldn't be able to see her bright smile anymore...NO! Ymir pulled her hair. An image of Christa smiling at her appeared in her mind and made Ymir's heart race. Those beautiful deep blue eyes, the look of sweet innocence on her face was more than Ymir was willing to bear.

She closed her eyes, "Why is everything more complicated than it has to be?" she muttered to herself.

"Ymir, are you okay?" she gasped when she heard a whisper in the dark, a familiar voice. Christa. In the darkness of the room, Ymir could see the outline of Christa's body sitting up next to her.

"Of course I'm alright," she grumbled.

"Are you still angry at me for what I did today?" The innocence in Christa's voice drove a stake through Ymir's heart.

"No, I'm not." she said after a moment of silence. It's impossible to be angry at you for long.

"Good I'm glad. I'd hate it if you were mad at me." Ymir couldn't see it, but she was sure Christa was smiling. "Good night, Ymir."

Ymir's cheeks flushed at her name being spoken by her tongue. She turned to her side, facing away from her, "Good night, Christa."

She matters to me. The thoughts returned, but instead of letting them drive her mad, Ymir let them lull her into a dreamless sleep.