They don't speak about it yet. In the night, they are a mess, a tangle of limbs, and the pouring rain from outside is drowned out by the sounds of their breathing, shallow yet deep, and wanting. It's like however much they touch each other, nothing will ever be enough, and Ymir is breathless at the sight of Krista's body in the dim light, the shape of it, every curve. It's as if they've known each other for their whole lives, it comes that naturally. Ymir knows where to touch Krista without saying a word. Knows where to kiss her neck to make her shiver. Knows when she's tiptoeing along the border between too rough and just right; knows how to curl her fingers just right to make Krista whimper and hold a hand over her mouth to stop her neighbors from hearing. Krista knows just what to do, too, and it's the first time Ymir's felt loved in her whole life. She gasps at the wholeness of it, the realness of what's happening to her. It's not just a memory anymore. It's real.

Real.

And when it's over, they lie side by side on Krista's bed, panting slightly, their smiles gleaming and loud in the silence. Krista feels completed, like a missing part of her has been returned, the puzzle piece lost for years found tucked behind the cushions of the sofa. Her heart sings, and it's not until the early hours that she says anything. The sky is a fresh coat of paint on the window, new pastels in pink and orange and red. She watches it, feeling a million miles from the day before, when she was doing just the same.

"You've been looking for me?" She says, carefully, her voice hushed; she doesn't want to shatter the calmness with too sharp a tone.

"Of course I have." Ymir's voice is to-the-point; she cuts to the chase, no funny business, no waffling. She says what she says and she means it. Krista feels like she already knew this, but she's not sure how.

Krista doesn't say anything for a second, taking in the words, turning them over slowly.

"Why did you call me Historia?"

"Because that's your name. Why did you call me Ymir?"

"My name's Krista."

Ymir stares at the ceiling, ignoring the sunrise. "How much do you remember?"

"What?"

"You know what. Come on, Historia, don't play dumb with me, I thought you were done with that."

Silence.

"Our past life? The titans?"

Krista scrunches up her eyes, tight, so she can focus on the swirling patterns behind her eyelids. She opens them again and the pattern is on the ceiling. It hurts her head.

"It's foggy," she says. "I remembered all of it when I looked at you, but… it's hard to remember now. But… this is ridiculous! Past life, what are you, insane?"

Ymir rolls onto her side, looks at the girl lying next to her. Her hair is strewn across the pillow. She remembers the first time they'd had sex, hushed and up against the wall behind the training barracks, Sasha standing guard, and afterwards, they sat and laughed for a few minutes, eating the pastries Ymir had swiped from the kitchen. It had been simple enough to pay Sasha back.

Her heart feels heavy as she realises that Historia didn't remember this. It had been the best day of her life.

"Why else would you have known my name? Admit it. You've had the dreams."

"They're just flashes to me." Krista can feel her headache pounding behind her eyes. She sighs deeply. Pauses. "That was amazing, earlier."

Ymir smiles. "It was. But don't change the subject. You can feel it, can't you? You remember me?"

"I feel like I've known you forever, but all I can really remember is your name, and…"

"And?"

Krista wouldn't normally consider this; she'd felt it, yeah, but a past life? She isn't religious like her father. There's no such thing.

But in the cool morning air, her foot touching Ymir's, Krista feels slightly differently about it all. It's easier to consider the idea when she's around.

"If you remember it all, why don't you just tell me?"

Ymir smiles again, the corners of her mouth just twitching slightly, and she reaches out to play with Krista's hair, feeling it run through her fingers.

"I will," she says, " later. Let's go to sleep."

For the first time in years, Krista sleeps dreamlessly. Her subconscious, for once, isn't plagued with visions of some sort of past life she can't decipher. She sleeps without interruption through the whole day, not waking until the sun sets and has its place taken by the moon.

When her mind wakes up Krista lies still for a few moments, not opening her eyes. She doesn't dare to check if Ymir is still beside her, or if she was even real. Everything that had happened feels real - she remembered everything, if that's proof enough, but she is still wary to check.

Eventually she gathers the strength to open her eyes a fraction, and is met by darkness. She sits up. As her eyes adjust to the darkness Krista realises she's alone - Ymir isn't next to her; there are no clothes on the floor except her own. Had she really imagined the whole thing? Crestfallen, Krista falls back onto the pillows, and switches on her bedside lamp. It dimly lights the room, for a moment only affirming to her that she'd imagined everything - but then something catches Krista's eye on the pillow beside her.

A single brown, long hair.

Krista's heart begins to pound. She pulls off her bedcovers and quickly puts on her dressing gown.

"Ymir?" She calls tentatively into her empty apartment. There's no reply.

Walking into the kitchen Krita turns on the light and finds a hastily-written note on her counter.

Historia.

I've gone to work. Didn't want to wake you up, you looked too cute, plus it seemed like you needed the sleep. Meet me at Rebecca's - seven p.m., my treat. Hopefully you'll have woken up by then.

Ymir.

Krista breathes a long, deep, sigh of relief.

"So she is real," she murmured to herself. "What the fuck is going on?"

She sits down at her table, resting her head in her hands. Her mind spins, but her heart is soaring with happiness. Why question it? This is the best thing that's ever happened to her.

She checks her phone. It's six pm, earlier than she had assumed. The winter evenings have a tendency to warp time and make it seem later than it actually is, Krista thinks, and goes to get ready to meet Ymir.