"Will you ever let me go?"
"No." Historia sniffled much to her own dissatisfaction. "You keep leaving me."
"But," Ymir was almost cut off by an arm. "Historia… I really need to go to the bathroom."
Ymir was locked in by Historia's arms and legs. They were covetously wrapped around her torso. Ymir might as well have been a banana tree with this monkey clinging to her.
"Fine." Historia reluctantly relented. Ymir took the opportunity to stretch, popping her joints in a satisfied groan. "But I'm going to sit outside the door so you can't run away again."
Historia had been quiet ever since she dragged Ymir out of the ocean. The two had to be hauled up by Armin's friends back to Grandma's house.
"Can't even if I wanted to," Ymir remarked, jutting her thumb towards downstairs.
It was like a party down there with all of Armin's friends entertaining Grandma to board games. They were even playing the one's Papa had brought back from America.
"They'd tackle me before I could even." Ymir clicked her tongue, crossing the hallway to the bathroom. Historia was like her shadow as she waited by the door, wary of Ymir.
"Don't try to go out the window!" Historia hissed at her. "I made sure you couldn't!"
Ymir rolled her eyes as she went into the bathroom to do her business. As she sat on the porcelain throne, her mind wandered to yesterday.
How could she even forget it?
It was the sole reason she was alive today yet the moment she stepped foot onto land her memory was wiped.
Maybe it wasn't lying after all, Ymir concluded begrudgingly. She didn't want to believe in anything the damned void had said, but so far it hadn't lied once.
It even seemed to pity her. Ymir couldn't choose whether it disgusted or pissed her off most.
She rubbed her face as an impatient knock rapped at the door.
"You better not be escaping!" Historia's muffled voice came.
Ymir watched in amusement as Historia's hand even fitted underneath the door as her fingers wiggled threateningly.
Ymir scoffed out a laugh.
"Can't I piss in peace?"
She heard a light giggle from Historia as the hand withdrew.
Sometimes, she couldn't even understand the girl—one minute she was gloomy and broody and the next she was smiling and being clingy. Though, Ymir didn't have a problem with either one, because she knew Historia cared for her in a way.
Ymir wiped herself down and flushed the toilet. She slipped her pants backup as she went to the window.
"I could probably escape if I wanted to," she said it just loud enough to spark a gasp from Historia.
"Don't you dare!" Ymir couldn't tell if Historia got that she was joking. To get the blonde riled up, she unlatched the window and opened it. It was barely enough room to even calling it an opening. Maybe Historia could fit but Ymir? That'd be a close call. She'd probably scrape off a tit and ass cheek trying. Ymir poked her head out and looked around to see the 'trap' but all she saw was a bucket underneath the window, collecting water from the rain.
"Is this bucket supposed to deter my escape?" Ymir snickered. There was rustling at the door.
"I—I was bluffing!"
Ymir shook her head as she withdrew her head and went to the door, unlocking it for Historia. Immediately she bulldozed in and glared at Ymir.
"You're such a punk," she huffed, walking over to the tub and crawling over it. She used the lip of it as a booster to close the window and lock it again.
"Also!" She turned around, pointing at the sink.
"Hm?" Ymir was curious as to what she had to say this time.
"Wash your hands! Gross!" Historia hopped out of the tub and crossed her arms. The sack only wrinkled a bit, but Ymir could see the narrowed eyes. She already could imagine the cute expression underneath.
"Yeah, yeah," she sighed, "it isn't like I was stuffing my fingers in my ass, y'know."
"Gross!"
-x-x-x-
"We'll have to get up and eat here soon." Historia mentioned, laying on her side and facing Ymir. The storm was heavy again and Armin's friends decided to stick around. Armin said it'd be a fun night for them all but she felt it was to keep a watch on her and Ymir.
"Won't Armin just bring it up? He did that for breakfast and lunch." Ymir complained. She had her head buried underneath Historia's pillow. She even managed to rip the sheets from the bed and was tangled up in that, too. "I don't want to go and talk to strangers who think I'm a psycho."
"I don't either," Historia reminded. The mask she was wearing was beyond hope now. It had tears and too many wrinkles in it from sleeping. She even drooled on it and caused a hole to appear near her mouth.
Slowly, she got up enough to pull it off. The air hit her skin and it was suddenly a lot less humid than it was inside that paper bag. She inhaled the sweet scent of rain. Historia even thought she smelled nectarines.
"Mm," Ymir rustled out of her blanket burrow to look at her. "Getting a new one?"
Historia was sitting up in the bed, pulling her hair back into a pony tail as Ymir watched.
"I will when we head down." Historia snapped the rubber band on and exhaled, reaching her fingertips to her wiggling toes as she stretched.
Sometimes, she missed not having to wear a mask. The feeling of the air, hearing things better, and not feeling encased was… refreshing.
"I see." Ymir propped her chin up into her hands. "So, that means soonish later?"
"Soon." Historia firmly said to remind Ymir she couldn't wiggle out of it. "If I have to make an appearance so do you. We'll suffer together."
"Fine." Ymir moved one arm out to Historia's arm. She only pressed a finger against the boney appendage as Historia looked at her.
"What?" Historia smiled.
Wow.
She smiled.
Ymir was dazed for a moment. She really didn't understand the girl fully—she hated to be looked at, but didn't mind a touch?
"This." To be fair, Ymir wasn't in the right state of mind.
All of the answers were swirling in her head and all she could do was tell herself that she'd hate it all later.
Ymir's hand moved from Historia's arm to her boob and squeezed.
Historia's eyes widened in surprise as Ymir got a second fondle in.
"W—why—what are you doing?" Historia didn't slap her hand away. Only stared.
"It—It felt right to do!" Ymir hesitantly took her hand back, embarrassed at her impulsive move.
Historia shook her head and quickly flopped back down onto the bed, facing away from Ymir.
"Give me some of the blankets, idiot."
"Y-Yeah." Ymir gave some to Historia as the blonde got cozied inside the blankets. Ymir refused to let a silence fall between them because of her stupid action.
"H-Hey, listen, I didn't mean to—well, I did but it sounded like a good option at the time, but I know in hindsight it really wasn't—" Ymir tried to explain the reasoning. At the time, it was like instinct to just grab her like that, but then that made her sound like some animal…
"It's fine, Ymir. You do weird things." Historia reasoned. "But, you could at least… just hold me first?"
Ymir felt steam rise from her cheeks as she hastily and unattractively scooted over with some grumbles until she could finally hold Historia from behind. It was the best feeling she ever felt to finally bury her face into the back of Historia's head.
"I can feel every breath you take." Historia said. "Ymir, seriously, stop snorting my hair."
"But it smells so good!" Ymir teased, earning a little jab from Historia's sharp elbows. "Okay, okay."
Ymir was content with just holding Historia by her waist and sneaking obvious sniffs of her hair, but she felt Historia's hands take hers, guiding them up—
"At least do it right this time." Historia shakily breathed.
Ymir didn't know what to do now that she had them. They were so soft with a pleasing weight to them. Lightly, she pressed her fingers into them, fondling them softly. Every movement made Historia's breath shudder until even her hips and legs were squirming a little with it.
I'm not even fully touching them. Ymir wondered how it'd be like if she did it without Historia's baggy shirt or bra on.
Ymir kept licking her lips as she felt her senses becoming hazy. She couldn't help but lower her mouth to Historia's exposed shoulder and lightly kiss her there.
"Ah."
Ymir nearly screamed when the door swung open as she hid her face into Historia's hair, glad that the blanket was covering where her hands were.
"Dinner will be done!" Sasha cheered as she saw Historia's startled, red face and Ymir pathetically hiding behind Historia's body.
"Oh. Well." Sasha backed away, embarrassed. "Er—don't spoil your appetite, okay?"
She slammed the door and hurried, descending footsteps were heard down the stairs as Historia covered her own face, whining.
Ymir was equally as ashamed at getting caught.
Yet, her hands remained.
-x-x-x-
There were alcoholic drinks.
Lots of them.
At first, Historia was wary and didn't feel like it, but the more she saw her Grandma put away the more she felt the need to drink until Ymir finally suggested she should. After all, it was a get together and she should at least pretend to enjoy it, right?
Wrong. She got drunk.
"You have a pretty face." Sasha whispered, sitting next to Historia at the table. She even kicked her foot like how they used to when they were kids, but, now, Historia's toes only reached Sasha's calves. "Why you hiding it?"
Historia was good at hiding how drunk unlike Eren and Reiner, who were bickering over arm wrestling and ping pong. Of all the things…
"Cause," Historia tried to reason. It was pretty futile, though. The alcohol was making her feel warm and sort of silly. The paper bag was heating and turning into a sweathouse.
"Cause?" Sasha gestured for her to elaborate.
"It makes me feel disgusting." Historia nodded. Nobody was really paying attention to the two. Even Ymir was over by the boys, playing cards, and cackling at their antics. She didn't even have to try and fit in—she was adopted amongst them.
"Why? That's, like, the opposite of being pretty!" Sasha was surprised. "I remember when we were kids—you were hella pretty! You should wear it with confidence!"
"Mm. My mom doesn't think so." Historia mentioned and that caused Sasha immediate sadness. She remembered how happy Historia would be to run up and down the hill with them, play at the beach, and take walks with her Papa and Sasha as they went to Sasha's house. Historia was always happy here, but she always cried and begged to stay when her mother came to pick her up.
"My father told me when I last saw you," Sasha said, putting her legs on top of Historia's under the table. It was a friendly gesture, sure, but it made Historia feel weird—weirdly nice. "That you might not come back… He said… your mom wasn't a good person."
Maybe if she was sober she would've gotten upset and stormed off, but, right now, she could barely feel a thing.
"She isn't. Not really. She has her good days."
"But they don't outweigh her bad days." Sasha finished for her.
"Every day is a bad day." Historia quietly agreed.
"So, your mom did something… to make you feel like this?" Sasha asked.
It was hard for Historia to pin point the exact moment she began doing this. She knew during high school it was only a build up until then. At least at school, everyone loved seeing her and being around her. They made her feel welcome, but at home her mother twisted their attention and kindness into undesired sexual implications and morbidness.
It slowly built up like a storm until it just came crashing down.
"Yeah." Historia nodded, staring off at Ymir.
Lately, though, she hadn't felt as scared to show her face. Sure, Ymir was a little sexual with her, but… it wasn't unwanted… it wasn't the grotesque things her mother whispered when the boys of her class were kind… it wasn't the distain her mother assured her that the girls had for her… It was something warm and sweet.
It was contradicting but she remembered Hanji saying that human nature doesn't follow logic. Sometimes, things just happened and we do what we felt was best.
"We aren't like that, y'know." Sasha whispered to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and lightly jostling her. "We're your friends, remember? Just all grown up."
Why would her mother tell her that everyone only wanted to get into her pants or was using her for their own gain?
Historia had a hard time grasping the implications—maybe she didn't want to and that was the problem.
This paper bag…
Was it a prison or denial?
"Especially Ymir," Sasha quietly giggled against Historia's hair, "I'm sure she thinks you're pretty great."
If her mother treated her terribly, said people only lied, but Ymir and Sasha and everyone else were sincere with their kindness and patience and love, who was the real liar? The people she met only a few times in her life, people she shared rare moments of joy with, or was it the person that gave her life, who took care of her since infancy, the person who was supposed to have unconditional and undeniable love for her?
How could the lonely child inside of Historia accept the fact that her mother might've never loved her when she had always loved her mother?
It was—pathetic.