Everything For Her
She gave her everything.
Her gentle voice was as soft as a ray of sunshine, when she spoke her name. "Ymir!" she would say, chanting the girl's name as if it were a song. "Let's play princesses!"
As much as she loathed wearing dresses made out of tattered bedsheets and decorating her hair in sneeze-inducing wildflowers, she never denied her request of imaginative play. She spoiled her, showering her in her desires, no matter what consequences they entailed.
And as they played princesses, sharing curtsies and dancing throughout the tall grass, the idea of love made itself known. Like the budding of the flowers they wore in their hair, the emotion, just as their bodies did, began to grow.
She gave her everything.
Her voice was deeper now, about as deep as a step into shallow water, but her needs were still as innocent, still as blissful as they were in past years. "Ymir! Let's ride our horses together!"
And even though she had never been keen on mounting the back of an animal, she did. She did it, because it was she who had asked. And as they galloped into the rising sun, racing around the open fields, she heard it. Breathy and sweet, barely noticed over the rugged sound of their horses hooves, she heard her laugh. It was there, and it was contagious. It was perfect. She was perfect.
When they rounded their horses and returned them to their stables, something more than giggles and laughs was shared. They were testing their limits, when their lips decided to brush; walking into unchartered territory when they didn't part. They were young. They were starting to fall in love.
She gave her everything.
Months later, with little to no change in her outward appearance, another question was asked. The differences this time didn't lie in her build; they lied in her voice. "Ymir," she had said, raising her tone to a volume that was just above a whisper. "Let's join the military."
The military, fighting for the greater cause of the people. Selfish, she always was, except when it came to her everything. She wanted to say no, she'd never said no, and although she was opposed to the life of a soldier, it was with agreement that she brought her into her arms and cradled the back of her head. How silly. She was the one who suggested they enlist. Why had she started to cry?
With diamonds tumbling down her rosy cheeks, she had looked up to her. What she was wearing was unexpected: a smile, stretching the corners of her mouth. She was asked why she was crying, but her answer was unrelated. Three words, laced with the highest of emotions, were drawn in the most wonderful of calligraphy on her lips. Tempting and sweet-sounding they were, she dared to take a lick. Intoxicating, indeed.
She gave her everything.
Standing strong, standing tall, they were paired in the truest of salutes. There were no words, no exchange; just a sense of understood connection.
"If you were going to cry, you should have left." Those tears, she didn't want to see them, but if anything, her statement would have caused more of those sparkling beads to fall.
It was after the gathering that they huddled near a fire, a thick blanket draped across their shoulders. Playing with each other's feet and raking their fingers through their hair, it was in a dreamy state that they realized what they had just done. Their decision was made and it was a death sentence, but their bodies were as alive as ever. Again, those three words made their debut, and again, they were tasted for their sugary content.
Yup. Just as sweet.
There comes a time when wishes can no longer be granted, and when favors are no longer favorable. The pounding of horse feet wasn't the same as it was during those halcyon mornings. It was rushed, it was hurried. Everything was a blur, a catastrophic mess.
"Ymir!"
That voice, how it had matured with monthly age. It cried her name in a way that elicited her agony. But there was nothing that could be done, nothing that could be changed. Not this time.
"Ymir!"
She heard her, of course she did, and even without being paired to a question, she knew exactly what she wanted. It couldn't be done.
"Ymir!"
In a perfect world, she would have done everything for her, but sadly, that world was nonexistent. The world in which they lived was as cruel as it was beautiful. And sometimes, she wondered if she was biased; how she could only define the world as being "beautiful" because of her. There was nothing wrong with that, was there? Because if she was everything beautiful, that would make her everything cruel, and in the end, it brought her solace to know that they didn't need place a definition on things.
Together or apart, as far as she was concerned, they were the world, but she could no longer give her what she wanted.
Hi there! Chappy here! :D
Definitely got a little poetic-y on this one, I would say. Not as prose as I would have liked it to be, or as long, but I hope you enjoyed it just the same.
Today is Historia's birthday, so let's all celebrate with some...angst? Yeah...sorry about that.
Alright! Thank you for taking the time to read! And again, I hope you've enjoyed!
- Chappy (: