AN: I actually got off my ass and posted. Yay. This is sort of in celebration of my casual and unplanned coming out to my brother (now I'm out to both of my siblings. So, double yay. Finally, I quite like this chapter. I hope you do too.
Chapter Fifty Three- Want
I knocked harshly on Ymir's door, praying to anyone listening that she was actually home. I needed a hot cup of coffee and a damn blanket. I figured the walk would have warmed me up somewhat. Spoiler alert, it didn't.
And miraculously, she answered. "Christa?" She questioned, seeming just as out of it as I'd been all day. Either she was unusually tired or… Glancing at her figure leaning heavily against the doorframe, I'd say she was hammered.
"Are you kidding me?" I asked bluntly, pushing past the unsteady woman to get inside. "If you're going to throw back shots, the least you can do is answer your calls. Where's your phone?" I demanded. She blinked at me for a couple of moments, seemingly confused. Finally, she shut the door and rubbed at her eyes.
"Um, in my room, I think?"
"When was the last time you checked it?"
"I don't know" she answered grumpily, walking back into the living room.
"I'd appreciate it if you were a responsible adult, just this once" I went on, exasperated.
"What are you, my babysitter?" The drunk woman argued back.
"Ha. I'm surprised you can even form a coherent sentence." I pulled off my jacket and promptly threw it onto her couch.
She groaned and sat down, leaning into the cushions with a hand against her forehead. "Why are you being so mean?"
"Oh, you want to know? Because my girlfriend had to call me at eight o'clock to ask me to check up on her irresponsible friend. And guess what, that's you. You've traumatized Ronnie to the point where any level of silence has her worried you're in the middle of some suicidal act."
"Why the hell are you jumping to fucking wild conclusions?" Ymir raised her voice.
"I don't know!" I shouted back honestly, unsure why the situation had me so worked up. Maybe… "Maybe it's because I'm actually worried about you too. I don't like how you do everything so carelessly. You drive too fast and you eat too many carbs and you complain so damn much! You smoke when you're stressed and you say what you want, when you want. A-and you drink all the damn time. Even when Annie tells you not to. And yet I still like you!" I was much too loud. I needed some self-control, yet at the moment all I felt was an acidic weakness creeping through my bones. "Why do I still like you?" I echoed in a much softer voice.
Surely my cheeks were red from the cold and eyes watery from my mini speech. With the obvious circles under my eyes, I must have looked like quite the mess.
While keeping a calm face, Ymir had managed to find a half-empty beer bottle, taking short swigs from it as I went on. After I was finished though, she set the glass back down and watched me through narrowed eyes. "Obviously I'm the embodiment of all the carefree thing you've wanted to do. You're too high and mighty to admit that though."
I released a short, achingly dry laugh. "Obviously" I echoed, astounded by her words. They hit me like a dart. Sharp, painful, accurate, and deflating my energy with each passing second.
Her eyes still tracked my movements, even as I retreated to the empty armchair. "What now? Are you going to vent about your sexual inexperience while simultaneously expressing your deep hatred for me?"
"How are you so articulate after plainly drinking so much?" I asked groggily, limbs feeling stiff.
"A lot of practice" she explained.
"God, you're depressing." And just like that, we let the room fall into a frail silence. Clearly, we'd both already had a rough week. I wasn't in the mood to ask what was going wrong in Ymir's life, so I settled for general assumptions. Neither of us had the will to say much to each other anyway.
After empty minutes spent staring at the photos on her wall, I eventually messaged Ronnie to assure her that Ymir was still breathing. Then I got up to make myself coffee, well-acquainted with their kitchen by this point.
Ymir turned on the television, skimming through channels with half-lidded eyes. She didn't question how long I was staying, or if I even planned to leave that night. Apparently she didn't care enough to inquire. She soon landed on an overplayed comedy movie. It was mildly entertaining, yet lacking any real mental stimulation.
Once I had a mug of coffee in hand, I meandered back toward the couch, wordlessly curling up against Ymir's idle side. The intoxicated woman could have commented that I had a jacket not far away if I was cold. However, she didn't.
And that's how we spent the rest of the evening. Neither of us laughed at the on-screen attempt at humor. I was fine with blankly staring at the actors' interactions, not giving any thought to plot or dialogue. I sipped at my drink slowly.
Ymir fell asleep after the first hour, head gradually leaning over until it eventually rested atop mine. Maybe all she needed that night was companionship. I never considered that someone like Ymir got lonely. And yet, it was evident by how relaxed she became with my presence.
Once I was sure she was unconscious, I grabbed the remote to turn the TV off. I set my mug on the coffee table, and shifted over gently and let her slide onto my lap. That'd be more comfortable for the both of us.
Her breathing was slightly labored, and I remembered that she was still getting over a cold from the previous week. I absently ran my fingers through the thin strands of her hair.
Ronnie said she'd drive me home as soon as she got back into town. Who knew how late that would be. I didn't really mind waiting, though. It was peaceful enough here, especially now that Ymir couldn't psychoanalyze me. I swear, the woman could be such a nuisance.
It was alongside that twinge of annoyance that I felt an overwhelming sense of compassion toward the sleeping individual. As much as she absolutely strained me, there were small moments that made the stress worthwhile. I suppose she was correct in what she had said before. But it wasn't entirely that I wanted the freedom to act like her. Rather, I think I simply wanted her.
I paused my gentle ministrations as a flush rose up my skin. Oh, I thought, having been unable to admit that to myself this entire time. I want her.
It was a naïve thought. An impossible notion. Ymir was immensely loyal to Annie. Even if she no longer loved the woman the way she had before, I couldn't imagine the two splitting. They seemed to rely upon each other too much.
"Look at what you did to me" I whispered, a bittersweet smile on my lips. "And here you thought you were playing it safe."
I blinked away the wetness gathering in my eyes. Maybe this was all a mistake. Befriending Ymir. Beginning a relationship with Ronnie. After all, I'd never intended to care this deeply for either of them.
And then I wondered for a terrifying moment, is it wrong for me to be wanting Ymir while still dating Ronnie? It almost felt like a betrayal in my mind. I had to push it away, though. It's not like the latter had to know.
Ymir stirred for a second, then settled back into my lap, muttering something incomprehensible. I watched her parted lips, and exhaled heavily. This wasn't the first time I thought about kissing the woman. But this time, it was different. The urge was stronger, and she was in a position where… What? I could take advantage of her?
I shook my head and looked away. It hurt, feeling such an unexpectedly strong want for her. For everything that accompanied the notion. The morality in me still won out. I could only hope this feeling didn't fester. I didn't want to experience it grow any worse than this.
AN: Leave a review if you'd like. Sorry for the late responses some of you have gotten. My email and Fanfiction must be plotting to fuck me over, because I've been getting notifications weeks late. It's irritating, to say the least.
