She expected her first step out of the building to be an overwhelming sensation of freedom. Instead, it felt like any other step she had taken in order to strengthen her legs. Her blue eyes drifted and she looked up at the cloudy sky. The cold blew through her and settled in her bones. The blond took a deep breath. Looking forward, she saw Ymir leaning against her car, patiently waiting for her.

Historia smiled.

"Do you need to pick up anything at your place?" Ymir asked as they both buckled up inside the car. The brunette's fingers drummed on the steering wheel and she stared intently at the shorter woman.

"I….yeah," The blond nodded slowly. She was hesitant at first, not wanting to visit her home in order to avoid a resurgence of dark festering thoughts. But she knew it was for the best that they did. She doubted Ymir had any clothes that would fit her. Historia gave the brunette the address, settling into the passenger's seat.

She looked out the window, watching as they passed by familiar stores and businesses that she had seen so many times before. Since she moved here with Porco, the buildings had remained the same. Only occasionally paint jobs and new shops would change the environment. Historia couldn't help but wonder how long Ymir lived here. Her whole life? A few years? Months? She closed her eyes, lost in thought before she eventually dozed off. When they arrived, a soft touch from Ymir was what woke her up.

Slowly getting out of the car, she looked at Ymir and asked, "Could you please wait here?" The brunette looked perplexed by the request but just nodded. Historia was thankful she didn't question.

The blond froze at the start of the staircase that led to the door of her home. She stared for a moment, feeling a tension creep into her shoulders. Taking a deep breath, she fought the sudden fear that wanted to grasp her heart and pushed forward.

Finding the hidden key for their home, she unlocked the door and took a hesitant step in. Then, gripping the door handle, she slowly closed the door behind her, not looking back at Ymir.

There was no difference in her house. It was the same jow she left it. At least what she could remember from her previous delusional state. It was a chaotic mess. The remains of a toxic relationship that finally broke. Shifting a foot, Historia found herself kicking pieces of glass. She looked down and crouched to pick up a shard from what used to be a liquor bottle. Her fingers trembled as they caressed the smooth surface and she felt herself shivering. She hadn't expected to react this way but the emotions stormed in her and a primal fear clenched her muscles.

When Historia reached forward to flip on a light switch, the power didn't come on. She let out a breath, knowing she shouldn't be surprised. Maybe that's why she was shivering. It was cold. It was cold and she was scared. The blond put a fist to her heart and proceeded forward. Walking through the living room, she felt memories of abuse swarm over her. As she strode past the kitchen, she could remove the scorching feeling of her skin against the heated stove. Porco had, at one point, stumbled through the kitchen and trapped her against the oven when she was in the middle of cooking his dinner. As he touched her with his swampy hands, she leaned against the stove accidentally and burned herself. He had gotten mad when she yelped, he figured she wasn't enjoying it, which he wasn't wrong, and used unnecessary force to put her in "her place".

The blond made her way to their bedroom and she paused in the door frame. She could still see the remainder of his frantic packing before he ran away. Her fingers curled on where she gripped the splintered wood of the door frame. Her blue eyes moved the drawer where she normally kept her stuff and then she went to their bedroom closet to get a suitcase.

Kneeling down to get to the bottom drawers, she started neatly folding her clothes into the bag. It didn't take long to realize how little clothes Historia had. The clothes that were wearable. Most of them had holes or were torn. Some had stains. Mostly blood. She doesn't have to think much to remember how they got there. She remembers how they all got there. The memories were imprinted like scars. They will fade but they won't disappear. She put the ruined clothes to the side and picked up whatever was usable. As she pulled at a pair of jeans, they unfolded and a tie fell out of them. The piece skimmed across her hand and she extended her fingers to take a hold on it. Pulling it closer to take a better look, her thumb rubbed against the fabric. He used to wear a tie all the time. Despite it being a simple color of a deep shade of blue, he used to wear it all the time with a smile. It was a gift from her. And eventually, as months passed by, his smile faded and the tie no longer hung securely around him. It continued to lose its grip as nights passed by and his steps started to become more wobbly. And then it was gone. No longer did he wear it. Her hold tightened and her eyes felt watery.

"I thought I told you to wait outside."

Her weight shifted on the wooden floorboards and they creaked in response. Historia turned her head to look at the brunette, wiping her eyes. They both stared at each other. Ymir's hands were shaking as one held the doorknob and the other held the door frame. The blond looked away and put the tie down. Closing the drawer, she zipped up her suitcase and stood up.

She watched her as Historia slipped past the brunette and out into the hallway. The blond glanced briefly at the ancient grandfather clock that ticked in a rhythm of illusional time. She felt Ymir's eyes burn into the back of her neck.

"...W-what happened?"

Historia turned to face her.

"Love happened."

…

The glass bottle of beer morphed into a water bottle and Ymir had to blink a couple of times to process what happened. When she let the realization settle her, the fact that the bottle had always been water, she grunted and leaned back into the couch. Staring out into space, with her elbows on her knees was getting tiring. A small groan escaped through her lips and she closed her eyes. What the hell. She couldn't get the sight of Historia's home out of her mind. It was a wreck. The remains of a battle. The result of constant struggling against violence. Ymir's stomach felt heavy. Oh so heavy. She felt sick. That wasn't an accident. Historia had endured hell and made it through. The brunette desperately wanted to know the story. It made her angry, knowing that the blond had gone through that and Ymir couldn't do anything about it.

She didn't know if she would ever have the stomach to drink alcohol ever again. Not after that. Ymir wanted to avoid resurfacing dark memories for Historia. She wanted to keep her safe. The blond would be staying with the brunette for awhile. Ymir wasn't sure for how long but she knew it would be for a while. Ilse had agreed to this. Her expression was thoughtful as Ymir told her in such a serious tone. The brunette knew the journalist's mind had been working as she spoke to her. Ymir knew Ilse long enough to know those types of things.

Speaking of the dark-haired woman, the sound of the front door unlocking overtook the muffled sound of the tv. Ymir had flipped it on in the middle of the night when she realized she wasn't going to sleep. Historia was resting in her room at the moment and Ymir couldn't get the blond out of her mind.

Ilse tumbled in, quite drunkenly, causing Ymir to head over to her side before her partner fell over. The strong scent of sex and beer flooded Ymir's nostrils and she felt her throat tighten. "This is seriously not the best time," The brunette muttered, slinging her arm over her shoulders, to support the girl.

"W-where is she?" Ilse giggled, her breath tickling Ymir's ear. The brunette guided her to the couch and went into the kitchen to fetch a water bottle.

The freckled woman snorted when she approached Ilse as the woman continued giggling softly to herself with a glaze in her eyes. "You finally did it with Onyan, huh?"

"W-wouldn't you like, hic, to know?"

"You smell like it, Ilse," Ymir rubbed the nape of her neck and sighed. "Why didn't you stay over at his place?"

Ilse fell over, raising her arms in the air before dropping them. "Cause...we didn't...didn't do it at his place!"

"Shhhh," Ymir hushed her friend, glancing briefly at her bedroom's door. The brunette was starting to understand Ilse's annoyance when it came to Ymir's drunken state. Drunk people were hard to handle. The thought made Ymir instantly think of Historia and she shook her head before she went into another session of wondering and fear. "Keep it down."

"Shhhhhh, you keep it down," Ilse whispered, waving a hand. Turning over, the journalist closed her eyes. It wasn't long before Ymir heard her soft snores which allowed the brunette to release a sigh of relief. As much as it was a relief, she realized that Ilse had taken her sleeping spot since the brunette gave her room to Historia. The freckled woman shook her head and grabbed a blanket to place over her friend.

She wasn't going to sleep so there was no point taking Ilse's room. Ymir looked over at the digital clock that rested by the television. The numbers glared back at her, displaying the time of 4:26 in the morning. It wouldn't be long before Ymir would meet up with Mikasa so they could exercise together. The brunette relaxed her shoulders and grabbed one of the many jackets that hung on their coat hanger by the front door. If she was going to think, she might as well walk while doing it.

…

She didn't realize she was that used to the hospital bed until the unfamiliarity of a soft and warm bed sent her into a brief panic as she woke up. It didn't take any more than a few breaths for her to calm down and settle back into the sheets of a queen-sized bed. The warmth made her feel safe and the comfort of sleep was lulling her back into the dream realm. One of Historia's fist clenched the sheets and she buried herself deeper, wanting to get lost in the palace of pillows and sheets.

She dozed off for a couple of minutes before her eyelids fluttered open and she slowly sat up. Historia felt as if she slept for an eternity and she felt better. The blond rubbed her eyes and looked around the room. This was Ymir's room. It had an earthy tone and was fairly clean. There wasn't much in the room but it was much better than the white walls of a hospital room. Slinging her legs over the bedside, her feet met a soft carpet. Historia moved towards the bedroom door and stopped for a moment. After a few seconds of hesitation, she turned the handle and she quietly stepped out. Immediately her blue eyes drifted to the sleeping figure on the couch and she felt an urge to approach Ymir's unconscious state. She wanted to have a quick look at her peaceful state when her emotional eyes weren't working up a storm in her head. The brunette seemed to always be thinking.

As Historia approached the couch, her lips pressed together when she realized the individual who was sleeping on the couch was not the desired brunette.

She wasn't sure what she did to disturb her, but as soon as Historia stood by the arm of the furniture, the figure underneath a blanket jolted up in a tangle of limbs before falling to the floor. The blond woman flinched for a moment, imagining how it must have felt with the sudden impact. Looking down, Historia found herself staring at a hungover expression with confusion glazed in those dark orbs. The look quickly drifted away into realization and their expression wrinkled up as a wave of pain flooded over them. Pinching her nose and taking a deep breath, the woman muttered something to herself before finally looking back at the blond.

"You're Historia?" She asked, picking herself up from the ground and placing the blanket on the couch. She let out a soft groan and stretched.

The short woman pressed her lips together and nodded. "You must be Ilse?" Ymir had mentioned her roommate a few times before to Historia and seemed to think fondly of her. Historia had felt a burning, which she could only title as jealousy, at first but as the brunette had continued talking about her, Historia realized it was nothing more than a platonic relationship.

"Unfortunately," Ilse cringed and moved past Historia to get to the kitchen. She waved a hand for Historia to follow and the blond obeyed. Historia could catch the strong scent of alcohol on the woman and a bile couldn't help but rise in her throat. Forcing it down, Historia watched as Ilse grabbed some pain relievers to save her from the obvious migraine she had. "Would you like anything to drink?"

"Water, please," The blond requested, sitting on a stool by the kitchen's island. Ilse joined her shortly, setting down two glasses of water for both of them. Historia took a drink gingerly and offered her thanks. "Where's Ymir?"

Ilse shrugged, setting her cup down. "I don't know, she tends to disappear," The dark-haired woman pulled out her phone from her back pocket and continued, "Probably working out by this hour."

Historia let her blue eyes drift over Ilse and mused to herself. Ymir's roommate was still wearing her day clothes, already wrinkled from last night's events. The blond wondered if Ilse was naturally this type of person that Ymir failed to mention. Did she come home often?

As if the woman was reading her thoughts, Ilse said, "Before you assume it, I don't normally do this. Hell, I hardly touch alcohol ever. Last night was just...err..different."

"How so?" The blond couldn't help but ask.

Ilse cleared her throat and shook her head. "You'll know soon enough," She took another drink from her glass and finished it. Moving to go get more water, the dark-haired woman asked, "So, Historia, what should I know about you?"

"What should I know about you?" Historia countered instead. The small blond wasn't sure if she even had anything she wanted Ilse to know about. She couldn't really say much without darkening the atmosphere, sadly enough. It was a hard truth and Historia didn't know if she would be comfortable enough to even utter a simple detail. She had hardly even told Ymir anything, other than vague statements and comments from her childhood.

"Well," Ilse smiled, not seeming to mind Historia's comeback. She stood on the other side of the counter and looked at her with analytical eyes. "I'm a journalist. And it's obvious you have a story to tell."

The blond swallowed and went to take a sip of her water. "Everyone has a story to tell."

"True, but I can see that yours is quite an interesting one. Can you tell me something?"

"What might that be…?"

"Does Ymir know?"

That question could mean many things and to Historia, it meant everything. She knew that Ymir would have to discover more about her eventually. But she also knew that there would be more to find out about Ymir. They both had stories to tell. A weight that pulled down on their shoulders and continued threatening to pull them below the surface. As much as the brunette seemed to be improving, there was a clear motivation that seemed to be the thing that destroyed her in the first place. Historia had just freed herself from the clutches of a possessive man and she wasn't sure where she was going to go from there. There was a lot to tell and yet…. The blond felt her insides tighten and she shuddered. Taking a deep breath to gain composure, she spoke again.

"You'll know soon enough."

There was silence for what almost seemed like a decade.

The two stared at each other with intensity.

And then..

Click!

The front door opened and a familiar figure walked through the door with a large brown paper bag in her right hand and a cardboard tray of coffee in her other. She shook her shoulders, freeing the cold from her skin and turned to close the door. As she swerved back around, she froze as she realized she had an audience.

"Uh...good morning?" Her expression was a little perplexed and she offered an awkward grin towards the two of them. "I brought breakfast and coffee." She lifted the two items up in her hand and Historia's heart seemed to melt at the dorkish sight of the brunette.

"Welcome home, Ymir," Ilse said, walked around the counter and towards the tall woman to help her with the food. She took the tray of coffee and walked back to Historia. "Your friend and I were just having a friendly discussion."

Ymir made an expression. "What did you two talk about?"

"Nothing," Historia sent a look towards Ilse as the journalist just smirked with obvious amusement. The blonde shook her head. "Absolutely nothing."

"If you say so," Ymir shrugged and stretched an arm to pluck a cup of coffee from the tray and handed it towards Historia. "It's a vanilla latte, figured you're the type who likes sweet stuff." Historia took it thankfully as the brunette clicked her tongue with approval. She swerved on her heel and pointed towards Ilse. "I got you an Americano because I know that you're a soulless human being with no sense of taste."

"You know it," Ilse hummed, taking her cup as she opened the bag that Ymir had brought alongside the coffee. "What's the occasion, you don't usually do this."

The brunette glanced at Historia and the blond suddenly figured it had something to do with her. She smiled to herself and watched as Ymir thought of an excuse. "I woke up early, finished my workout with Mikasa and felt extremely nice today but now that you mention it, this should be the first and last time I do something like this."

Ilse perked an eyebrow. "I wasn't exactly complaining."

"You weren't exactly thankful either," Ymir replied quickly.

Watching how the two of them interacted made Historia realize how long they must have known each other. A feeling of warmth but also sadness flooded her chest and she couldn't help but smile in a wistful way.

"She's quite the character," Ilse muffled to Ymir, directing her bitten breakfast taco at Historia. "Haven't talked to her long but she's definitely a keeper."

The brunette's ears immediately went red and the Historia felt herself fighting back a blush. Ymir bared her teeth at Ilse with a strained grin. "If you're going to be like this, I'll kindly ask you to leave."

"Relax," The dark-haired journalist swallowed her food and waved a hand. "I won't be here long. I have to be at work in like an hour. In fact, I should go shower right now."

"I thought you were hungover?" Historia asked out of curiosity.

"I am, indeed," Ilse confirmed, already making her way out of the kitchen. "But sex and alcohol can't stop me from saving a person's life!" And just like that, the woman disappeared from sight.

Historia looked back at Ymir, who was pinching the bridge of her nose. "I am sorry about her," The brunette apologized and placed herself on the stool next to Historia. "She's just testing the waters with you, I suppose."

The blond chuckled lightly, looking into Ymir's gold orbs. "It's fine, if anything, she's quite the character."

Ymir smirked, laughing lightly. She reached into the paper bag and handed Historia a taco wrapped in tin foil. "So, what do we plan on doing today, Historia?"

"We?"

"Mmhmm," The brunette confirmed. "I took a day off just for you."

Historia felt her chest pool with a familiar emotion and she fought back this sudden urge to cry. Just for me. Little things seemed to mean so much more now. The blond took a deep breath and thought for a second. "How about a movie marathon?"