Sweet mornings.
Rise and shine like a good girl on a mission.
She got up at 08:01, yes, the one minute was deliberate. It was always a reminder of how odd numbers possessed a comfort. She dabbled with furthering the clock backwards, but nothing sufficed liked the allure of being the baddie waking one minute past eight. What a rebel.
Feeling the expected sense of routine, her feet touched the cold floor and she stretched her arms. The clock was ticking, in twenty minutes she was pampering herself in the bathroom, and in another twenty she was filtering her wardrobe. Not too chic but not too casual, enough to pass her off as the innocent freshman.
A fitted skirt dangled dangerously over her thighs, throwing on translucent leggings did take care of anything voyeuristic.
Everything was handled in her precise fashion, she went back to her bed. One glimpse at the sleeping Ymir, she could denote her roommate was lost in the land of slumber. Dribbles of drool stung her tanned skin. She admired the ones who could tune out on command as her body's natural clock didn't allow her this luxury.
Her gaze fell on the sleeping girl's phone perched on the side table. The first thought was to snoop but she held back the desire, after all, she had no clue when Ymir's alarm was destined to ring. It was a risk she couldn't take, furthermore, it was bad manners invading your roommate's privacy on day 1.
Wait until a month, Hitch's voice rang in her ears and blossomed a smile.
Having nothing better to do, she laid back in her bed. Fingers interlocked atop her stomach as she was straight as a board. She closed her eyes intending to fill her mind with abstract possibilities.
Talking with her girls back home? She hadn't the heart to see their beautiful faces so soon.
Looking into the chain of command? She couldn't pry too much and become a target.
"Don't you plan to wake up?" Ymir's voice sounded enough to break the confines of her mind.
Her eyes opened and focused on her roommate's face, leaning over her with the expression closest to boredom. An easy grin graced her lips as she played a newly woken person's routine. Arms stretch, a cute yawn and fluttering of your eyes like Snow White herself taught you.
"Of course, I am. Thank you, I almost missed your alarm," she chirped, studying the tall girl undressing next to her side of the closet.
"Sure you did," Ymir's airy voice responded, sarcasm clamping every little edge.
Mikasa got up and pulled her trusty ballet flats on. Nothing could say I-am-a-serious-student like the discount Bellarine's choice. Without the tutu, sadly. The tutu was the true tragedy, normalization of its femininity was a necessity and she'd die on that stance.
Die, gracefully. Like the trend, she wanted to ignite.
Would you wear a tutu for me, my dear? She pondered, admiring Ymir's muscular back as each hard ridge worked in conjunction with her slipping the tank top on. Hot, but then she threw on the ill-fitted woollen sweater and unflattering pants.
Spectacles perched on the nose of her bridge as she did her makeup utilizing a handy mirror. Her damp hair was the last remains of her unruly misadventures contrary to the good girl she wanted to display. Relatable.
More importantly, she was lost in her thoughts long enough to miss the tall goddess's alarm and her taking a shower downstairs. How improper, but she could forgive herself when her phone displayed 09:37, the perfect number to begin her day.
09: 37, a little bit of love from Mina's favourite numbers. She clocked it the minute where she lost her virginity. Oh no, it wasn't a reminder of the wholesome first time but the reclamation of her whipping the poor lad because she liked it rough.
She almost chuckled to herself.
Ymir was adjusting the spectacles before adding on light mascara. Having finished, she gave herself a final look.
"Sweetie, they don't go that low," Mikasa's voice purred, she stood next to her roommate and found herself actualizing the height.
She pushed Ymir's glasses back and they stood silent. An unspoken agreement manifested itself and it presented them with an opportunity to address the elephant in the room without actually addressing it. A nod of understanding was administered and it was enough.
Classes. The one thing she had aimed to look forward to.
Oh, no, it wasn't the studying that appealed to her or the ardent physic questions ready to strain her brain, but simply the appeal of their familiarity. She could always rely on them to provide a constant for her daily life. Especially, after she had torn herself from the life she built, painstakingly, from the moment she could spell her alphabets.
The withered hallway of their dorms was a mere fraction of the refurbished galore the main campus was. Pristin walls adorned with Greek textures, they evoked Aristotle as the godmother who'd bless each soul. The marble floor was dominated by a herd of students figuring the hallways, drizzled in many styles and clicks.
She could see Ymir's ponytail bobble as she walked in front of her. Together, they made their way through the crowd, ultimately realizing their directions were conjoined at the hips. Having discovered it, they proceeded to walk side-by-side, like prime friends who craved validation in the totally non-toxic way.
On the way, Ymir bumped into a pair of seniors smelling like they had showered in exotic perfume. Heartly amused, Mikasa watched her roommate hold back a slur when the books held against her chest flung to the floor. Restraints, the girl had restraints. Even mustered a pleasant smile, while the ones at fault simply scoffed at her and departed like their daddy owned the place.
No one batted an eye, they simply manoeuvred around it. She offered Ymir a hand, but only got a roll of her eyes and brushing off her pants once she stood up. The same books, bit tardy now, nestled against her bosom like it was their birthright. They headed along and the destination did, in fact, end up being the same.
Classes and the wonderful Ymir as her course mate. Wonderful.
"The same course, eh?" Mikasa slipped in the seat next to her roommate.
"Yeah, I guess they grouped all fission lovers in a single building. Say, are the rooms separated by sex?" Ymir huffed, shuffling pages of the book with a thick binder.
The room was filling up, they could stare down at the large board overlooking everything. The perfect atmosphere to click those minds and delve into studies. Not really, it just sounded like the perfect escape in an airy room and musty voice professors.
"I haven't explored," Ymir's eyes lip up with a glint, "old Bundy seems more like a casual hangout than a humble abode. So I'd say pretty uniform."
Old Bundy.
A vernacular of the university ecosystem which was uttered by the gorgeous blonde. Clearly, this tall beauty wasn't new and that brought further intrigue. Especially, questions, lots of questions.
"Not bad," Mikasa fluttered her eyelashes, a creamy smile filled her lips and she supported her chin on her fist. "Heard you can get some dope if you knock on the right doors. What do you think?" Eyes focused on Ymir as if she wasn't already picking apart the roommate in her mind.
"Not interested, you're welcome to try though," Ymir said with an edge, sticking stray strands of hair behind her ear.
So much lore that was yearning for her to unravel. She could undo every little story for her curiosity, but it was too soon, and for now, it was better to simply observe. This semester was going to be stellar if her roommate was going to give her so much to work with.
"Not my thing," Mikasa gave a roll of her shoulder, "I need a clear mind but I don't know about stress times though."
"I wouldn't mind if you inhaled during exams, just leave the window open," Ymir explained.
"Duly noted," Mikasa arched her eyebrow, "anything else that I should vary off?"
"If you're like fucking any day just make sure to send me a memo and I'll pretend to nerd out in the library."
Pretend. An apt choice of word, it could hold several meanings, and the one registered in the moment was evident. Hanna wouldn't have fancied the carelessness of the situation, perhaps she should've listened when her friends advised against her talkative nature. Too many words leave you liable, they said.
But she yearned for the risk and the risk rewarded her. A healthy investment.
"God," Mikasa gasped and held her hand next to her chest, "you're like the roommate people brag about sipping whiskey in Costa Rica reminiscing about the good ol' days."
Ymir studied her, "Costa Rica? That's oddly specific." It was as if she had just realized the ditsy woman sitting in front of her possessed critical thinking. It was in itself a matter to be processed and considered.
Truly, she spoke too much. A little reprimanding herself was necessary.
"Your accent, it has that Caribbean touch to it," Mikasa elaborated, twirling her long strands of black hair.
"You must be very observant, I usually get called Cuban," Ymir went on, almost interrogative without actually presenting herself that way.
"Just a fluke," she protruded her lower lip and shrugged.
Too many words, always. She could turn this around and use it as an opportunity to get close to her roommate. The single moment of silly wordies embroidered itself in her vast net she was preparing to cast on everything and everyone. This truly could work. Truly.
Her train of thoughts was derailed and the conversation was entirely swept over by the noises outside. Both girls gave each other a look of acknowledgement and leaned over their table, it promised them a view even if stilted.
It was Adonis in his undisturbed beauty and a different blond, slightly taller accompanied by cold light blue eyes. This girl had a different air to her, those soft sneakers definitely added to it. Fruity colours were a complete contrast to her sharp features and pissed expressions. This one was so Mikasa's type: icy and rude.
Leaning a little further, it became evident the icy blonde was locked in a conversation with the Adonis, who seemed displeased. Surprising, wasn't this beautiful man supposed to play Prince Charming? Maybe she had overestimated the amount he gave to his reputation.
"Listen to me you piece of shit, you do not come out here talking to me like you know me. Do you understand? Or I shoulda break it down for your pea brain to digest it," the icy blond loudly spoke, her finger jabbing Adonis's chest. Not touching, though, like she was afraid of making contact with him.
"Annie, I'd be vary of your words," Adonis's voice was low, almost threatening.
Annie, this champion of women voicing bravely, was called Annie.
Mikasa was nearly on the tip of their table while Ymir lowered to get a glance from underneath her black hair. Now in a better view of the discourse outside, she could see Adonis's red shirt stretched over his firm muscles. Hot, utterly hot, as his biceps contracted when he folded his arms, looking down at the tiny icy blonde. He simply exuded the aura of someone who had absolute control of the moment and was simply allowing the other person to challenge him.
Challenge him, she bit her lower lip holding back a smile. The sensation of threatening someone's power made her giddy to the core.
"Or what? Is Mr Macho going to hit me? What will you do? Do it, you can fucking stop with your passive-aggressive one-liners. They are super cringe, I shoulda add," Annie scrawled, meeting Adonis's eyes without any flinching. This girl liked playing with fire, and oh, how it showed.
Author's note: Annie in this version is very unfiltered and extremely talkative but she looks down on other people xD
Thank you for reading ~
Let me know what you think.