Her (Cameron James Laing/Bunny Suit)
**SPOILER IN NOTES, NOT IN THE FIC ITSELF: You guys, we did it. Aruani flippin' won. We beat EreMika, Springles, ReiBert, Hanji X Levi (I forget their ship name). All of them. To be honest, I don't think any of us Aruani shippers even saw it coming. I think we were all just dreaming with the reality that'll never happen. But Isayama has blessed us with their canon before (most likely) blowing them into fireworks of blood and guts because this is Attack on Titan and they'll all die at the end. But at least they'll be canon in OTP heaven too (he literally drew that! Did you guys SEE Hanji's face when she saw Erwin, Mike, and Moblit again?).
Anyway, here's another one to all you Aruani fans. Just be fucking happy, you two**
There was always something about an empty stage, an empty audience that intrigued Armin. Hearing your own footsteps echo across the slick black flooring and gazing out into a darkened room filled with a ghostly audience sent his senses on fire. Each step mattered in this void; the entire world was watching.
He had arrived at the high school's auditorium on a Saturday morning, about fifteen minutes earlier than they planned. He wanted to stretch beforehand and let that empty theater feeling really sink in. Not that he necessarily disliked being around people, but he enjoyed these little moments to himself.
The lights were already on when he creaked open one of the double doors at the very back of the theater. Janitors and professors were probably made aware of Armin and Annie's meetup and had set up everything they needed: lights, chairs, drawn-back curtains, and possible access to the audio booth overhead. He looked around and didn't see nor hear anybody milling about, so he strolled his way down the narrow aisle and climb up the few steps to the stage.
A stack of black plastic chairs was tucked against the back wall, along with technical equipment and homemade props for the school's upcoming production of Macbeth. There was a big cauldron for the three seers and a dummy's head for the protagonist's tragic end. He set his duffel bag on the floor before plucking two chairs from the stack and setting them several yards apart.
He dragged his bag by one of the chairs and then removed his winter attire until he was down to a white T-shirt and black shorts that ended right above his knees. The January chill had already begun to seep into his bones and the lack of a heater anywhere wasn't exactly helping. He was half tempted to throw on his wool jacket until Annie got here, but he figured she would arrive soon and then they would start right away.
He then stretched his body like a rubber band, circling his shoulder blades and touching his toes. He had to work on his strength, he knew—men were always given the job of lifting and throwing the women in a dance routine and he was more capable of twisting his body parts in odd angles than he was of raising someone above his head. His pencil legs and string bean arms weren't much, and he knew Annie would test his muscles today rather than his flexibility.
He sighed to himself. I'm probably gonna twist something by the time we're done. I hope Marco doesn't mind if I'm slow to his apartment tonight.
After he was done stretching, he peeked at his phone in his duffel bag. 11:02. Annie should be here any minute.
His bare feet slapped against the cold floor as he wandered around the stage. He waved his arms around as if they were the gentle waves of the seashore and occasionally twirled when he felt the need to like the slow turning of a ballerina in an old music box. He came to a stop at the edge of the stage and then lifted his leg back, reached his foot, and brought it to his head. The familiar dull ache pulsed in his forearms and thighs, but he ignored it. Instead his eyes roamed the vacant green seats in the audience.
He imagined his friends and loved ones sitting in those seats. Eren and Mikasa sat up front while Sasha and Marco sat right behind them, all of their faces lit in interest and wonder. Connie would be pretty close by with a confused yet supportive look in his eye while Jean sat somewhere in the middle, his chin rested on his fist in boredom (sure, he was bored, but he was still there). His parents were tucked to the side, also sitting in the front row. They wore expressions as if they already saw this dance and were pleased with the results. He even saw his favorite professor, Dr. Hanji, sitting not too far behind his parents with a giant smile across her lips. She was his chemistry teacher back in middle school and she probably didn't know a thing about dancing, but that didn't mean she wouldn't be there for him if he asked.
And then he imagined his dancing partner standing next to him. His audience now had a different outlook on the performance.
Nearly everyone but his parents moved back a few rows. Mikasa was at the very back standing by the doors, blending well into the darkness. Eren had sat where Jean once was with a disgruntled look and Jean was a row or two behind him with crossed arms and a raised chin, clearly paying attention now. Connie didn't take a drastic move either, but his lips were pursed in deeper thought, titter-tottering on what it all meant. Sasha and Marco sat close to Connie and were on the edge of their seats in nervousness and anticipation, hoping for a turn of events. Even Hanji was pushed further back, but not as far as Mikasa or Jean. She was frowning and appeared awfully serious. It was nerve-racking to see her without a smile; fatal judgement couldn't be far behind.
His parents never changed. They still looked up at her as if they were looking at him. What did they see in her exactly? A second chance? A glimmer of hope? Were they wise for seeing the gold in her darkness or were they crazy, mistaking her pearls for the teeth of a dragon?
He sighed again, lowered his grip, and sauntered back to the rear corner of the stage.
His eyes scanned the rickety Macbeth props (the swords could use a spray-paint job to look a little more realistic and the galloons of fake blood made him wonder exactly how many people died in the Shakespearean tragedy). His mind drifted back to the time and he pulled out his phone again. 11:19. Annie was late. Why didn't he expect that?
He scratched at his undercut as he sat himself down. He fished through his bag until he came to Of Mice and Men, a rented paperback copy with a bunch of blue pen markings all over from the previous student. He read the book before, but his current literature class demand that he read it again and remember another tragic tale that couldn't be avoided.
He got a few pages in before he heard a door slamming shut.
He glanced up and saw the short yet bulky outline of Annie Leonhart strutting up the aisleway. Her hair was tied up in its usual bun on the top of her head and she wore a black hoodie with a black winter jacket on top of it. She had on black yoga pants with a purple stripe going up the sides and white tennis shoes. A black heavy-looking backpack hugged her spine.
He shut his book with a small smile. "Hey, everything okay?"
Her ice blue eyes caught his gaze in the dark as she ascended the stairs. "Yeah, why?"
"Oh, you know, it's just you're…" He peeked at his phone again. "…twenty-five minutes late. I was starting to think you'd might be dead."
"Not yet," she sighed before shrugging out of her backpack and placing it on the chair across the stage.
He subconsciously watched her take off her clothes. At first, her puffy jacket looked comically big on her, but once she slipped out of it, he realized it fit her just fine. She practically ripped the zipper off her hoodie before draping it across the back of her chair, revealing a cropped white shirt. His eyes traced the muscles in her arms and legs, reminding him of some Michelangelo sculpture. Everything was carefully curled and perfectly shaped. He had danced with her before and had felt her strong arms and powerful legs—it was like running your hand across smooth stones in a small creek, stiff yet curved.
"You have somewhere else to be?" he heard her ask and he quickly looked away once he realized she was watching him watching her.
He could sense a horrible heat rising in his cheeks and he turned to his duffel bag to shield himself away from Annie's stare.
"Uh, later today, yes," he stuttered, stuffing his book back in his bag. "But that's not for another, like, five hours."
"Good. We're gonna use all the time we have."
He peeked back at her. She kicked off her shoes and then reached inside her backpack. She pulled out her phone and a little black speaker the size of a baseball in her hands. She set the speaker on the floor in front of one of her chair's legs and then fiddled with her phone. His eyes trailed to her snow-white feet. Bandages were wrapped around the tops of her feet and around her ankles. Her toes were a bright red and light shades of purple bloomed across her skin. He spotted a blister or two poking out of the bandage's folds. It was obvious she danced more than him and it was to the point where she was physically hurting herself just so she can be good enough, if not better.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked her. "You don't look like you're in the best shape to—"
"I'm fine." She cut him off without so much as a second glance. "If we want to win the competition, then we have to give it our all."
He frowned. "Dancing isn't about winning…"
She looked up at him then back at her phone. "Yes, it is. Just like with everything else in life, you have to be better than the guy in front of you."
He could honestly sit here all day and argue about what the meaning of life was, but, according to Annie, there were more pressing matters to deal with, so he let it go.
A moment of silence passed before Annie spoke up: "I have a song suggestion here for the routine."
"Great. What is it?"
"I'm not telling you."
He paused. "Why would you say you have a song suggestion and then not tell me what it is?"
She set her phone next to the speaker and stood up, swinging her arms. "Because that'd be too easy. I want you to listen to it and react to it naturally with no prior knowledge. Don't listen, just feel, that's all."
"Well, can you at least tell me what it's about? Loss? Rebirth? Second chances?"
"Nope." She then dropped to her toes, palms flat on the floor. She held it there for a moment before sitting down with one leg perfectly straight and grasping her foot with both hands, her forehead resting on her knee.
Armin sighed, blowing his bangs out of his eyes. "I don't want to react the opposite of what the message is supposed to be. I don't want to twirl around aimlessly if the song is about knowing who you are."
Annie stretched her other leg, this time with her chin on her knee, her eyes directed at him. "No one's going to a dance competition to listen to the lyrics. They're going to see what the dancer thinks the lyrics mean. Stop worrying about it; you'll do fine."
He sat there, waiting for her. Even when she was just stretching, she moved like a leaf through the autumn air, like the ripple of water once a stone is tossed into it. She could bend in every way, shape, and form. She made it look so easy, the way she would sink into a complete split as if it were the same as slipping into a jacket or tying up your shoelaces. Although she probably didn't know it (she was too wrapped up in her work to know what others thought), she was the dancer every girl wanted to be and what every man wanted to dance with.
He looked down at her bandaged feet again. That may be true, but at what cost?
She stood back up and looked down at him expectantly. "You ready?"
He lifted himself up and gave her a tight-lipped smile. "Ready as I'll ever be, I guess."
She turned around and leaned down to press a button on her phone. "Just feel, alright?"
"I got it." He squared his shoulders, closed his eyes, and waited for the melody to take him away.
At first, he heard nothing. Just his own breathing and the sound of Annie's light footsteps wandering around. He thought she might've pressed the wrong button on her phone, but then he heard something. It came slowly and quietly like a thief in the night. No particular instrument came to mind at the sound, only its tempo. It was as if he had been following the sound of something distant and, he longer he walked, the louder the noise became.
He exhaled slowly and opened his eyes just as an acoustic guitar softly cried to itself.
The walls, ceiling, and floor were now lined in limestone. A dim light radiated from somewhere and it gave the room an eerie feel—shadows swallowed the corners and loomed over the tallest rock, gazing down on Armin, ready to eat him whole. The floor beneath was cold and slick like the back of a dolphin and the walls and ceiling portrayed the same glossy look. The limestone had no proper structure or balance; it dripped from the ceiling in random spurts and shot out of the ground like arrows. A single drop of water leaked from somewhere above every so often; Armin couldn't tell where it came from.
The ominous climb of the song brought him here, in the middle of a dark cave.
His eyes rose and eventually found Annie, up high on a foundation of crumpled limestone. Her back was to him, but it was curved oddly at a ninety-degree angle. Her arms dangled and her bun sagged. She then moved like an old doll snapping itself back into place—her back straightened somewhat, but she stopped suddenly as if she got stuck in those rusty joints of hers. Her hands slowly dug themselves in her hair and she cowered into a little half-ball.
What was this thing he found here in the cave? Some poor soul who was doomed to a life in the darkness? A creature molded from the limestone like an ancient cave drawing brought to life? Who was she and why was she here?
The guitar continued to weep as a voice spoke from somewhere deep within the cave, echoing through the dark. It was low like a mumble, like he was speaking through his teeth, like he was telling a secret.
"Come on, park the car."
Armin moved once the voice spoke. He hopped over the slick stones and squeezed through tight gaps. In wonder, he lifted a single finger in the air and, once that single drop of water splashed against his skin, a spark of love for the natural world made his heart burst and he twirled in happiness. A second voice, this one feminine, had joined the first one. They moaned into the depths of the cave and the sound reverberated through its cracks and secret passageways.
"Come on, park the car."
He halted upon the sight of the little monster among the rockslide. She was swaying back and forth, clutching her head in her hands. He could only imagine the horrendous thoughts drilling in her skull; what was she thinking exactly? Could he somehow ease the suffering she was putting herself through?
His hand reached out to touch her shoulder, but her animalistic instincts sensed him there before he could do anything. Her head snapped back and he drew away, yet his eyes remained on her wild ones. In them was fear, confusion, anger, sorrow, dread. What a poor, sad creature was she. Who put you here in the dark? Who did this to you?
He attempted to reach out to her again, but she fought back, mistaking his touch for a dagger. She pounced forward and he tried stepping back, but she grabbed a hold of his shirt in her hands and yanked him toward her. While the guitar sang its sad, sad song and the haunted voices sighed at its grief, Annie pulled down on Armin and bared her teeth at him while he held the sides of her troubled head, not knowing whether to push her away or mend the brokenness within her.
He didn't even realize that she had wrapped a leg around the back of his calf and jerked backwards—he was so focused on the sympathy that he had forgotten that she was perfectly capable of betrayal. She loosened her grip on him, but let her hands linger on his chest as he fell back and bumped his head against the cave's wet floor.
The hard thud of skin slapping against cool tile snatched him out of the dark cave and he knew he was back in reality once again. The duet breathed out the word "Fools" and when Armin opened his eyes with a small groan, he saw the theater's ceiling of wires and ropes rather than the cave's black abyss.
Annie had noticed that he had fallen out of their world and, with her hands still on him, poked her head into his view with an angry scowl. Her hair brushed against his forehead and her steel fingers pushed into his narrow chest.
"Don't think, just feel," she growled before withdrawing back into another land.
He huffed, ignoring that dull ache on the nape of his skull. He laid his palms flat on the stage's floor and then tumbled backward, landing on his feet once again.
He looked up and found himself in a forest. Tall, slender trees touched the blue sky overhead and the branches swayed in the spring breeze. Dirt and fallen green leaves stuck to his hands and feet, but instead of hearing birds chirping or the rustling of bushes, he heard that lonely guitar and the man with a guarded voice.
"Take what you want, your heart belongs to me."
He spotted Annie dancing among the trees, her open hands reaching toward the sky, her strong legs flicking at the crumbly dirt. The shrubs wiggled as she hopped in and out of them and her hand dragged along the rough bark of each tree she came across as if she longed to become one with the stillness, the quietness. She was too far away for him to see her expression and he wondered what exactly she was thinking.
Like a cautious yet curious rabbit, he quickly approached the wandering lioness but came to a sudden halt each time she looked over her shoulder. He would blend into the green like a cloak or drop to the ground and entangle his limbs with the roots and worms as if he were some dead thing she left behind. She didn't seem to notice, thus he continued on, hoping to catch a glimpse of this lost girl.
When he was about six meters away, he pushed himself against a nearby tree, his spine flat against its chipped skin. Very slowly, he peeked around the corner on his right, but little did he know that she was hiding behind that very tree, doing the same thing as he.
Her hand curled into his shirt again and his head whipped to the left. They locked gazes for a split second before she once again dragged him into a frenzied circle, except this time he expected her to lash out and had grabbed a hold of her jaw. If he was going to fall, then he'd make sure she'd follow after him.
"Take all you want, your heart belongs to me."
Startled by the rough grip on her, Annie's eyes widened and he could feel her teeth clench together. He leaned forward and she leaned back. The fear in her eyes then travelled to her legs as she tried spinning around and running the other way, but he wouldn't let her go that easily. His fingers wrapped around her wrist—he never realized how tiny they actually were in his grasp—and pulled her back with a crude jerk he didn't mean to do. Her bangs blew back and then fell in front of her eyes, and he could see a weak glare peeking through those lemon strands.
She then resorted to physical strength, something she knew she overpowered him in. A concern from the real world poked at the back of his mind, but he tried his best to ignore it, instead focusing on the song playing from the heavens. A sad cry echoed from above and then the tempo picked up a little bit more, making it more intense.
Her hands clamped down on his shoulders and, as swift as a snake, she attacked. Her thighs encircled his waist and she tried bringing them both down to the muddy ground with her weight. He caught her just as he felt himself being drawn toward the ground and then lifted her back up. She then untangled her legs, pointed them, and then brought them both on his left side. With his arms still wrapped firmly around her torso and hers around his neck, he leaned back down and felt her legs move somewhere behind him, kicking at the air. He smiled to himself. The move reminded him of some energetic swing from the 1950s.
His spine then snapped back up and he spun around, her legs still curled around his spine like how a koala would lock itself onto a stick of bamboo. It had been done time and time again when a boy literally sweeps a girl off her feet and spins her like a merry go round, smiles wide as a wave of happy reunion takes hold of their hearts. But this was no fairy tale. This endless circle they threw themselves into was confusing and didn't seem to stop anytime soon. The sad strings of the guitar and the occasional unhappy moaning told them that this was a fight for their lives, and the casualties could be their hearts and souls.
Annie flung out her legs and her bruised feet landed flat on the forest floor, bringing them both to a stop. Her bun had sagged a bit more and he could see the faintest color of pink bloom across her cheeks, her chest rising and falling with each strained breath she took. But the glare, that piercing look, was still there. Faith was a long way from whatever was happening here.
She circled him and he her, both like cats waiting for the right moment to strike. He was so concentrated on those eyes and what she might do next that he failed to recognize the change of scenery until they joined hands and she leaned back, so far that the loose strands of her hair almost touched the ground.
They were inside an abandoned building of some kind, one with wide halls and void of any furniture. Bright white snow covered the ground and was coming in through the vacant doors and windows. Shades of white and grey were the only colors present (excluding themselves, of course) and he saw gusts of wind scatter the flakes of snow across the concrete floor and through the air, but he felt no chill prick at his exposed skin.
"Skin white as a dove."
As if on cue, Annie snapped back up and it was then that Armin realized how unusually pale her flesh was. It was perhaps a shade darker than the piles of snow surrounding them. They locked gazes; her face was so close to his that he could feel the warm blast of air she was panting push against his hair. Her eyes, he noticed, were a unique color of blue. They were like glaciers floating in the ice-cold ocean, waiting for some indestructible thing to come along and crumble at her feet. They were like bolts of lightning flashing across the pitch-black sky, sharper and more damaging than any other arrow, gun, or dagger, but all the more fascinating to watch. They were like the bright reflections on fish scales or coral reefs from the blinding sun through the water's surface. And, much like the things that swam beneath the sea, they were mysterious and captivating.
"Eyes blue as our love."
Annie withdrew with a rapid turn. She then spread her arms and kicked up a leg. Her toes and fingers were pointed like knives and she kept a straight face. She danced like this harsh winter wind in this old, abandoned warehouse. She couldn't relax; there was something she came here for. What was in that cave? Who brought you here to this brutal frame of mind?
Armin frowned and tried copying Annie's movement. He spun once, held his leg up over his head, and stood as rigid as a magnolia tree. He glanced over at Annie and noticed her subtle glare. He smirked, mockingly. I can be as cold as the wind, too.
She paused before dropping her leg and sliding to the left, further away from him. He did the same thing, only he scooted closer to her. As if for good measure, she reached over and grabbed his shoulders once more. She lifted herself effortlessly onto his back and he could feel her weight shift between his shoulder blades as if she were punching away the snowflakes flying in. She then landed onto a heap of snow the other side of him and waited for his reaction.
Instead of performing some swift or intense move, Armin shook his bangs out of his eyes and slipped in a little smile. He widened his arms and began twirling. He let his arms flutter like a bird and his legs move across the fluffy snow as if he were walking in the air. He could feel Annie's eyes on him, but he didn't let her confused judgement sink in. Despite the wintery shadows looming over them, he danced like they were somewhere warm and sunny.
Once the idea flashed across his mind, he took hold of her hips and hoisted her into his world.
"Take all you want, your heart belongs to me."
He could feel the passion in his heart once he heard the sound of gentle waves lapping nearby. He felt the slimy shore squish between his toes and the warm water lick at his ankles. He could smell the salt waft up his nostrils and the sun peck at his peachy skin (he'd most likely burn like a marshmallow, but he didn't care).
Annie, who was still in his arms, peered up at the bright sky and then reached hesitantly for the sun. Her hand wasn't as directed this time; her fingers slowly wiggled at the blue atmosphere as if it were an old friend. With a smile still spread wide across his lips, he set her back down, grabbed both her hands, and then spun them around like a mini tornado.
He watched her watch him a little cautiously, but the ice melting in those dazzling blue orbs of hers and the slight grin tugging at her lips was too much to hide. He laughed despite it all. He felt his hair brush against the corner of his mouth and the wind ripple against his shirt. Freedom sparked in his chest and it bubbled in his throat, shooting up into the warm sun like a firecracker. This form of openness was contagious—Annie squeezed her eyes shut and let out a shriek of laughter, unable to contain this powerful spark.
They spun and spun until Armin felt his head twirl faster than his legs. They stumbled to a stop, catching their breath, regaining their sense of steadiness. The warm water swallowed his ankles and then dragged itself backward; it continued doing this until he could feel his feet shape into the muddy sand. He looked down at Annie and she looked up at him. She took a hesitant step closer; only a couple inches separated them.
"Take all you want, your heart belongs to me. Take all you want, your heart belongs to me."
Her heavy breathing pushed against his lips and chin and the ends of his hair. She smelled like salt (or was that the ocean?) and he watched a fat bead of sweat roll down the side of her temple. His eyes constantly flicked from her lightning blue eyes to her pink petaled lips. She was confused and scared, he could tell. All that time alone in that dark cave, in that cold snowstorm must've stole the innocence and brightness all children are born with. Growing up in lonely solitude could do horrible things to you, but it was never too late, he knew. She could be born again in the lovely deep woods, in the gentle sea.
He closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against hers. She wobbled under the weight of this knowledge and swayed from side to side, trying to regain her composure. He swayed with her, foreheads still pressed together. The music sprinkling from the sky churned and became heavier like rain. Drums, violins, guitars interrupted one another in a jumbled yet oddly in sync rhythm. It pounded in Armin's ears and he could feel his body pulsing faster, moving with the beat. Annie moved faster too. He could feel her eyebrows crinkle as she tried to understand that she could live for herself, that she didn't have to feel so alone.
The music stopped for a split second and then, the next thing he knew, rain poured from the sky and the sound of gongs erupted the hair-raising silence.
Annie suddenly jerked from him and his eyes opened again. He saw her snow-white figure glowering at him amid the new darkness they now stood in. Red rain drenched her body and emptied from the darkened heavens. His bones were just as soddened as hers; he could see the red droplets oozing from his bangs. He couldn't see pass the surrounding darkness, just her and the blood.
Swift as a whip, Annie lunged toward him, claws raised. In defense, he raised his too. While hers wrapped around his throat, his framed her face. A tiny gasp escaped him once he felt her fingernail gently graze over his Adam's apple. It sent a pleasurable tremble down his spine. He smoothed his hands over her dampened hair and she reeled her head back, exposing her strong white and red neck. Oh, how he wanted to sink his teeth into her flesh and rip her apart.
"Killer as you are."
The sirens from above knew where this was going and quickened the rhythm, adding sharper notes. Annie took that as her cue to sharpen her moves and make the ballet a bit more intense (as if it weren't already). She latched herself onto him with her hands still on his throat. Her knees pushed against his biceps and he quickly went to cup her thighs to keep her steady. But she was too quick; he couldn't catch her weight quite right. He at least tried holding onto her as he stumbled back and crashed onto the ground below.
Instead of splashing into bloody puddles, he felt the slick, hard floor of the high school stage catch his fall. A dull pain blasted into his shoulder blades and the back of his head, and the sound echoed through the auditorium amid the oracle of a song. He groaned slightly, trying not to let the ache settle too deeply. His eyes peered up at Annie hovering over him. The blood was gone and he could see the harsh white lights above her, but her eyes were wild, still stuck in the place that she literally knocked him out of.
He opened his mouth to apologize, but she was off of him in an instant. His eyes followed her to the side. He watched her body jerk around like something deep and malicious was inside of her, prying its way through. She clawed at her skin, scratching frantically, trying to clean herself of the blood she spilled.
But you're not the only monster here, Lady Macbeth.
When he turned back to the bright white lights above, he was back in the darkness. He felt the rain pelt him like bullets and the puddles beneath him soak his skin. The stains would never wash off, he knew.
He took a deep breath and rolled onto his stomach. His palms plunged into growing red puddles near his shoulders. The blood was warm, fresh. He lifted his legs into the air and then brought them back down in front of him, so that he could see that back of his knobby ankles.
He paused before raising his upper body off the ground and straightening himself up a little; his body was now formed in an upside-down U. He could feel the muscles straining in his biceps and neck, and he tried not to let the slight trembling in his arms sink into his brain. Feel, don't think.
Annie's feet moved in the corner of his vision as he crawled backwards, splashing more puddles as he went. There was no use in trying to cover himself from this guilty rain. Despite the lovely greenery and sunny beach that he lived in, there was still the crashing of trees in terrible storms and great mysterious creatures dwelled deep beneath the ocean's shore. Nothing was innocent, nothing was safe from harm. So, he thought, might as well let the blood slide.
She didn't want to be a part of it, obviously. Something in her sharp kicks and jumpy movements told him that she knew she was just as monstrous as him, but that didn't mean she wanted to see blood spilt. She kept grabbing at herself and whipping her head from side to side as if she could actually do something about it. Tiny groans escaped her, little whisperings that could've easily come from the song thundering down on them if one didn't pay close attention.
That was the thing with Annie, wasn't it? You had to pay close attention.
He stopped crawling around like a cockroach with its head cut off when Annie slowly curled into herself and stuck her head in her hands again, mumbling to herself. Using what little strength he had in his stomach, he removed his hands from the ground and unfurled his spine, now looming over Annie's huddled form. He felt bad for her; his heart ached at the sight of her. Taking responsibility for the unknown, letting all this blood define her. That's not who she was.
He gentle took hold of her wrists and pulled them away from her face. She peered up at him like he was the sun (how mistaken was she). Her eyes went to his fingers and then back at his eyes. She then slowly slipped her hands through his grasp and reached for the edge of his bloodied T-shirt. He didn't stop her; he didn't have anything to hide. He let her lift his shirt over his head and drop it at her side.
"I know who you are."
His fingers lightly traced the hem of her top, but he didn't advance. Yes, he knew who she was, but it was her decision to whether or not openly unveil herself. He lowered onto his knees back into the blood just as she reached down again. His fingertips delicately traced down her thighs with his forehead pressed against her bare stomach. He felt something brush over his head and he looked up.
The blood that once drenched her was gone. The unhappy scowl was gone as well. In fact, the darkness had lightened up some, but it wasn't as bright as the beach. Instead, the sky was smoky grey and he felt something skinny and light tickle at his naked back. They were somewhere else now; the song had taken another turn. But the greatest change was the somewhat satisfied look that casted over Annie's eyes. She was as bare as him and her soul was beautiful.
"Take all you want, your heart belongs to me."
The ghosts continued to sing in the clouds as Annie cupped Armin's face in her warm hands and lean down. He noticed her left leg lift up as she did so, straight as a lamppost. Her lips, so soft and gentle, pressed against his forehead and he breathed a sigh of relief into her neck. It felt like a gust of wind or a refreshing drink from a river: it was nice and sweet, and he already missed it when she slowly withdrew.
He observed her step back into the field of wheat they were surrounded in. Behind her was the edge of a cliff that went down as far as God knows what. He looked back up and noticed slender tree branches sway in the cool wind, green with spring. A low light then flashed somewhere in the ash clouds above them, but he didn't hear the thunder, only the rapid strumming of a guitar.
"Take all you want, your heart belongs to me."
Annie twirled around the tree like a ballerina. Her legs were strong and pointed like arrows, but she fluttered her arms with a sort of gracefulness like butterfly wings. He got back on his feet and watched her spin for a while, a slight smile tugging at his lips. Her eyes would occasionally meet his during her twists and he could see something in them that wasn't there before. It was purposeful and strong, whatever it was, and it captured his attention entirely.
She then reached out her hands and he automatically took them. Her concrete legs kicked at the air behind her and the sky lit up with another burst of lightning. He felt a tightness in his hands as she pulled him into the field of wheat. He burst into a wide grin as the cool breeze flew through his hair and chilled his skin. It reminded him of Annie's kiss.
They ran their fingers through the soft wheat in their dances and tried aiming their kicks as the same time as the lightning. Armin enjoyed spreading his arms and feeling the wind rush through him while Annie swayed to the side, her eyes locked on him. Slowly she tiptoed behind and shyly spread her own wings. When he looked back at her, he had the gift of seeing her own wide smile and hear a tiny giggle being tossed out into the sky.
"Take all you want, your heart belongs to me."
He moved back and plucked her off the ground and held her up. Her arms waved like the gentle roll of the seashore and when he lowered her back down with her spine to his chest, she wrapped them around the back of his neck, her fingers playing with the ends of his hair. Smiling into her sweaty bun, he brought up his hands to trace the muscles in her biceps, but, like sand, she slipped from his grasp.
Her hands never left him, though. She outlined at his collarbone, down his thorax, around his hips, up his spine. She circled him like a curious cat and he tried catching her, stroke her shoulders or run his fingertips through the hair on her arms. But she was slippery and avoided each of his attempts with the ease of water. So, he waited until she came to him.
Eventually she faced him again and lifted a leg by his side. He took his role and secured it against his hip. She did the same thing as before: circle him while caressing his body, but now he was holding onto her as she slithered around and over him like a snake in an apple tree. Was she the same girl he found in that lonely cave? The one who scratched at him if he so dared take one step her way? If so, then wasn't it funny to see how far a little bit of care went?
Her feet touched the ground again and she pulled him back into another ballet. The music still played fast and the lightning would strike more often now. They pushed through the wheat with quick steps, matching the same pace as the song. They hardly separated during this routine; Armin could feel the sweat dampening the edge of Annie's sports bra. Their faces were so close; he felt her warm pants blow against his mouth. He didn't know how long they were like that, flying with the sky, and the thought didn't even register that he couldn't see out of his peripheral vision to see where exactly they were going. The ethereal sighs from the grey heavens switched from gentle whisperings to low shrieks. It was like they were dancing somewhere between a beautiful lie and a harsh truth.
With one foot placed firmly between his own and one hand interwoven with his right one, Annie then flew herself backward and let her weight drop with her. It happened so fast that he could only understand what actually happened once it was over. He squeezed her hand tightly and swung her limp body to the side. Her head was thrown back; he could see her pale throat and pointed chin and the tip of her sharp nose. And then he saw the all the piercing rocks that laid at the bottom of the cliff that Annie dangled off from, he being her only foothold.
Lightning flashed and then he saw her swopping by the orchestra pit in the high school auditorium. Sudden fear crushed his heart but he didn't let it show. Instead he held onto her for dear life and brought her back into the soft wheat behind them.
Once she was back from the edge, she snapped back up and embraced him fully. He, still a little terrified, lifted her up into his arms and constricted her with the tension of a noose. He squeezed his eyes shut and then stumbled to the floor (the slick, black theater floor that is). The song continued to play from Annie's speaker until it eventually faded away just like the way it faded in.
They sat there for a while, he cross-legged and holding Annie by her shoulder blades, she laying in his lap while holding onto the back of his neck. They listened one another's breathing, feeling each other's heat radiate from their bodies. Again, Armin wasn't aware of how long they sat there like that; he only spoke once his heart eased back into a regular beat.
"Are you alright?"
A confused pause. "Yeah?"
"I could've dropped you."
"But you didn't."
She wriggled out of his grasp and stood up. Her bare feet slapped against the floor (not a field of wheat, puddles of blood, or sandy shore—just smooth hardwood flooring) as she moved toward her chair. She plucked her phone up just as another song began playing, but she quickly shut it off before it could go any further.
"Did you know where we were going?" he asked, still cross-legged in the middle of the stage. "Did you see the edge of the stage?"
He looked down at himself and noticed the faint red claw marks across his chest and arms. His eyebrows scrunched together. Was all that Annie? He didn't remember feeling her nails sink into his flesh like some cat stretching its claws after a long nap. He was only aware of the slight burning sensation now. Damn, music could be powerful.
"No." She glanced at him. "Did you almost drop me over the edge?"
Nothing crossed over her face at the possibility of her crashing into the abandoned music stands and chairs at the bottom of the orchestra pit. No concern, shock, or oncoming betrayal. Nothing.
His own eyes widened for her, feeling that familiar anxiety slide in between his rib cage again. "Yes."
"Oh." She merely shrugged, her eyes drifting back to her phone. "Lucky you, I guess."
He groaned to himself and dragged a hand down his face. "We have to be more careful next time; one of us could get seriously hurt." He rubbed the back of his head. There was no longer a dull ache, nor could he feel a bump rising anywhere. A good sign.
He unfolded his legs and got on his feet, walking over to grab his shirt and Annie's. He threw his over his head before Annie could see his chest and then handed Annie's to her. She thanked him before taking a big swig of her water bottle.
Water sounds really good right now. He strolled over to his chair and fished through his duffel bag. The room-temperature water felt refreshing in his sweaty, dehydrated state, so he took a few gulps.
"So, what was it about?"
Annie's infamously blunt tone and emotionless stare caught him off guard. He finished swallowing and then stared back. "I'm sorry?"
"The song. What was it about? What was…" She motioned the space between them. "…all of that?"
He stared at that space, big as outer space yet close as lovers. He thought about what was said, where they went, what they did. The pushing away, the tearing of flesh, the throwing and catching. It felt real like he'd been there before, felt all of it before. Take all you want, your heart belongs to me.
"Trust, I think." He chewed the inside of his cheek. "And having the power to forgive."
She simply looked at him for a silent moment before eventually nodding her head. "Yeah, that's what I thought too."
They didn't say anything for a while. Annie set her water bottle on the ground and shrugged into her shirt. Armin watched her while nervously twisting the cap to his bottle. He felt like he should say something, to clarify something. But what? What was there to discuss? They were both in sync nearly the entirety of the song and the only real loss was him stumbling to ground twice because he didn't conjure up all his strength in the nick of time. The twirl at the edge of stage scared the crap out of him, but, like she said, he didn't drop her. Was there something else there? Or was everything strictly made for the dance?
Before he could ask, Annie placed her phone back by her speaker, turned her back to him, and said, "Alright, let's try that again."
He blinked. "What, repeat the same thing? All of it?"
She looked back at him with a spark in her eye. "I trusted you last time and you forgave me for the things you saw. Let's see if that's still the case."
And so he followed her back.