I originally planned for this to be in my Peaceful Days universe but it felt to be better as a standalone since there are no manga spoilers here. Just happy things. :)
The sunlight at noon is blinding. If he and Annie weren't sitting beneath the large tree beside the riverbank, the heat is sure to burn their fair skin.
The river is serene and the rush of water paired with the comfort of shade would leave Armin snoozing if he was sleepier. But he's attentive to his finishing line, his eyes following along with the flow of the water's crystalline surface and where his fishing tackle floats. He's not sure if it will take another few hours before he gets a bite but it's worth waiting; he likes coming to the river for the atmosphere rather than the fish. He should build a small dock over the riverbank—he'd like to dangle his feet in the water while he sits; he'd feel nine years old again, and in the blink of an eye, he's propelled back to when he, Eren, and Mikasa sat by the river; like this place and his current company does, the memory soothes Armin.
He's content. High-pitched chirps and wings flapping are heard from time to time. The light wind whistles and the leaves whirl and dance from the smooth airflow when they're blown off the tree. He could spend all day here and due to the absence of Annie complaining, Armin is confident she feels the same way. The young man sneaks a side-glance next to him. His partner in love and friendship has her eyes closed.
Annie floats in the space within her head. Her memory recycles how Father would hide in the forest at times, make rustles and noises so she'd be alert 24/7. But the leaves brushing together in the branches above and the whipping of wind are the sole noises around her; well, that and Armin's breathing. The lifelong soldier's slim shoulders aren't so tense—she actually slouches. In some odd, corny way, it's as if nature's peace has crept into her muscles, relaxes tendons which were once bow-string taut throughout every day of the week—or maybe, she's so comfortable because she's sitting next to Armin.
"Are you already asleep?"
"Hm?" is her dreamy answer. Annie opens her eyes half-way.
Armin chuckles, "You are asleep."
"Only because you wanted to do this boring hobby."
"Do you want me to not ask you to come next time?"
Annie blew out a sharp breath, "Don't ask dumb questions."
Armin smiles widely. The number of months it's been since they've lived in this country-side cottage escapes Armin. His memories from his parent's workshop give him ideas of what to build and the greenery and life which survived motivate Armin to catalog each living breed within a notebook. And unlike how Annie originally felt, gardening and baking isn't so bad. She's great at it, not terrible like she so often claims. And Armin would bet everything that they don't need a scarecrow or other means of repellent against pests; most of the time, Annie's visible displeasure at seeing vermin is enough to frighten them off—their future visitors can chirp or chat with the family of foxes who got a little too curious on what was in their greenhouse.
The happy man practically bounces in his seat. Armin scoots so close to Annie, the sides of their legs and arms touch. A brilliant pink hue highlights her cheeks. To Armin's joy, she doesn't shy away—Annie lightly presses her arm against him. He's happy Annie maintains her blunt, skeptical self but has allowed that caged tenderness to gush out of her now, that empathy and care his heart felt from the one she tried so hard to hide away.
She's progressed greatly...and Armin can't help thinking...
"Annie…can I ask you something?"
His girlfriend's yellow fringe dangles to the side from her head tilt; it's a move which exposes more of her lovely, fair-skinned neck. Armin tries very hard to not ogle the spot where he loves to tuck in his head at night.
"What did...what did you think of me when we first met?"
There's a lapse of silence, "My expression when I had a face full of pie wasn't enough to show how shocked I was?"
Armin's bangs sway along his forehead from his headshake, "No, not then. I meant before. Um, like our first year of training...if you even felt anything back then."
"Oh," her eyes drift to the river's rippling cerulean surface, "Why does it matter? You were only twelve."
"You know me…" he smiles awkwardly and hunches in on himself, "Curiosity. I can't help but ask. I always worried I'm not enough or my appearance wasn't..." he has to resist peering down on himself, judging how lean his frame is in comparison to other men, "...wasn't to your liking."
"I wouldn't be here if any of that was true."
It's a blunt statement with fact, no emotion, and Armin appreciates it. He's still not getting what he wants to know, "So...will you say?"
Annie tetters back and forth in her spot. The crease between her eyes and lopsidedness of her mouth look reluctant, "Armin, I don't think it really matters…"
"Humor me then? Just this once? I never really got an answer and I understand why. The past is the last thing we want to dig up...but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't curious. I promise, this is the last thing I'll ever bring back up. Or if you're just flat-out uncomfortable..."
"No. It's a question even I've wondered and of course you'd ask first. And if you really want to know, I'll tell you, "Annie exhales deeply. She stares him dead in the eye, her voice remorseful but not having a single skip of hesitation when she says, "I hated you."
His heart has been struck so hard, it might as well have shattered into a million bits. The sudden growth in the width of his eyes and drop of his jaw must expose how he's feeling. Annie's chin declines, as if out of shame.
"I did tell you it doesn't matter anymore, Armin. I don't feel that way anymore—I'm a million miles from it."
Armin regains his awareness to watch his fishing line. He breathes shakily, hopes his exhale doesn't sound too dejected...even though that's how he feels, "Well...I asked. It's not like I can be angry," his shoulders slump, "It was the haircut, wasn't it?"
A small side-smile exposes Annie's incisor, "No, it wasn't. Although...I'm not sure why you chose that haircut. You were cute though," a firm forefinger being shoved into his temple prompts a hiss from Armin, "And before you mope about being called cute, I mean that you looked charming. Don't overthink it."
Funny how Annie caught him before the demeaning thought even occurred to him. It brightens Armin up, encourages him to smile on how well she knows him. When he turns to Annie with it, the sadness in winter-blue lifts. Just how beautiful Annie is even in shorts, a tank top, and unkempt morning hair surpasses all descriptions Armin can think of.
"If that's the case, then what made you change your mind? Or rather, why did you hate me in the beginning?" Armin's head snaps to the river when he thought he felt a tug against his fishing line. After a few moments of waiting, it turns out to be nothing, "I won't be upset either. You've got me more curious."
"Great. Now you'll have a list of a million questions, won't you?"
Armin smiles so brightly, all his top front teeth show, "It doesn't have to be if you just answer them."
"Always so sly, aren't you?" a ghost of a laugh leaves Annie with her words rather than sounding genuinely angry; that tiny laugh might as well be super-glue in repairing the recent damage done to Armin's heart, "Guess I have no choice but to take your word for it," Annie narrows her eyes at the bucket of bait at her side, like the answer was somewhere in the wriggly nest of worms. It really was a long time ago.
Armin's smile falls when a couple minutes pass, "Annie, are you sure I haven't overstepped somewhere…?"
"You haven't," Annie holds her fishing line with one hand and places her opposite hand over Armin's. She squeezes it to reassure him. Her scarred boyfriend worries too much already and the last thing Annie wants is for Armin to waste more energy on being concerned about her, "It's been a while. I need to think."
Her patient partner nods, understanding while Annie digs into herself, takes a path she hasn't walked for some time.
Upon first glance, Armin was the stunted tree which grew in the shadow of two daunting and more powerful redwoods. And Armin was like his friends: a stubborn, naive fool. But Annie remembers how cadets would huddle around Armin and his group, how bright blue ponds glittered with every word spoken about snow encrusted landscapes or boiling lakes of lava. Eren would chime in, speak of how they'd reclaim a world they thought was free of Titans and was capable of being explored...to be free...
"You talked about going outside the walls and adventuring like it was so easy," it's unintentional but the frustration Annie felt years ago rekindles, has her fine arches of yellow bunch together, "Like there was no way you could be stopped. But I knew the world hated us. I didn't even get to see the ocean until we came to Paradis. But you and Eren...you two spoke like you could overcome anything just because you had each other. I didn't understand that - I didn't want to. I thought you two were idiots who talked a big game then would die or run away the moment you came into contact with anything life-threatening—just like Reiner did," slowly, the tension between her eyebrows recedes, "Then I watched you—all of you...and I realized that you just didn't know any better. It was how you were. And sometimes it was nice to imagine everything you talked about. Father and I... I was protected by internment camp walls and a forest for years. To think about such places, imagine that I could be there…it was nice. I understood why Reiner and Bertholdt liked you all so much," a long, drawn-out sigh blows out of Annie. She rakes a hand through her shoulder-length hair, "Now look what you've done. You've got me rambling on like an idiot too."
The twitch of Armin's mouth draws his smile higher until his mood and expression falls again. He didn't know Annie felt this way and to say her words didn't make him sad would be a lie.
"But that's different now…?"
Annie's chin lifts and with it, her hand. She counts off her fingers, "You don't leave me alone when I tell you to, you involve me in activities which put me out of my comfort zone, my cheeks might as well be wet forever because you give me slobbery kisses every day, and you being so supportive can be as nice as it can get on my nerves—that takes talent." Annie's fingers close tighter around his. Her gaze has transformed into a stare which holds him so softly, Armin's heart hammers like it's on the verge of exploding, "It's very different now. I'm glad you helped change it. And I know I must be hard for you to deal with. Especially with all my...baggage."
"I've got my own baggage too. Don't forget about all my mistakes on top of me tripping over my own words, having repeated panic attacks, being allergic to dust..."
"...you're allergic to dust?" her body tilts to the side with an expression which suggests Armin smells bad, "Maybe dad was right—what do I see in you?"
"Too late now!" Armin's care for his fishing pole depletes to zero and he lets it fall. He scoops Annie into such a tight hug, it forces her to drop her fishing pole too, "You're stuck with me and I don't let go easily."
Annie mumbles into his chest, "I could always 'conveniently' forget about you in town and make my escape."
"Do I really need to give you an example of how far I'd go to get you back?"
No, he doesn't and Annie hopes it stays that way—the topic brings a somber atmosphere she can hardly resist against. She presses the side of her face against the middle of Armin's chest, her hand stroking the spot between his spine and shoulder blade.
"No," she answers, "And I'd break your legs if you tried to run off too."
"At least leave my face alone please. Give people a chance to recognize me while the rest of my body is twisted in knots."
Annie smiles so wide, she's certain Armin can feel how her lips reach near her ears, "Because you asked so nicely, I'll consider it."
Her ridiculous boyfriend laughs, sounding so chipper, Annie can't help but join in. Laughter is a recurring symptom to this never-ending sickness Armin infected her with—she never wants to recover from it either.
But now she's curious.
"And me?" Annie asks, quiet and afraid, "What did you think of me back then? We hardly spoke but…" she trails off.
A deep, thoughtful noise quakes Armin's chest. He doesn't have to dig so deep. The memory sits vividly in his memory.
"Damn…Shadis had to ruin our fun, " Connie complained. He crossed his arms and watched Shadis clutch Annie and Mikasa by their biceps and march them to where their disciplinary action would take place. Both of them were covered in dirt, their hair messy, and skin scuffed, "It was just starting to get good too."
"Mikasa was going to win," Jean interjected, "Annie had no chance."
"What?! Annie was dodging basically every blow! I've never seen that before!"
"Dodging doesn't mean she would actually win!"
Frustrated, Connie twisted over to where Armin stood, "Have you ever seen that, Armin? You and Eren have known Mikasa the longest here."
Armin was much like Eren-he doesn't know. The one exception was no one lasted more than three seconds against Mikasa-it was always a one-kit K.O even for giants like Reiner. But Annie dipped and dodged Mikasa's punches and kicks; he's never seen anyone so much as make Mikasa sweat. And Annie was so small too, smaller and thinner than him. How a person of such a size could combat against such a powerhouse is…"
"Incredible," Armin says before he can think, "Your fight against Mikasa made me think you were incredible."
"So you're a fan of cat fights?" Annie deadpans.
"Wha-No! That's not it at all! I never saw anyone fight against Mikasa before and keep her on her toes. I'd never seen her so focused against an opponent. You were amazing - you are amazing."
There's a warm tingle running along Annie's limbs. His praise is nice to hear and she wants to try her luck again, "And do I do anything for you…?"
Like she did, he puts his hand where she can see it, brings down a finger from each sentence, "I can't fool you with anything so that's no fun. Every time I'm down on myself or try to belittle what I've done, you flick me so I'll stop. You challenge my every idea—you really get into details even I didn't catch. Sometimes, it makes me a little nervous when telling you but I know I'll always get an honest answer." Armin hears her wince. She tries to pull away but his forearms roped around her lower back keep Annie tight against him. His nose rubs against the side of her neck, "But none of that is bad, Annie. You make me want to be better and if it meant making you happy or keeping you safe, I'd learn whatever I can to do it."
The strong crocodile bite of fear gives Annie mercy – it releases its grip on her chest; she can breathe again. Her cheek nuzzles into the firm padding of Armin's chest, "...me too."
The sun has moved across the sky enough for the blaze of heat to fall on Annie's exposed leg. The shade and gentle breeze counter-balances the sudden warmth and like she is attuned with Armin's heartbeat, how he strokes her hair, Annie resonates with her environment. Toasty warmth travels from the top of her head down to the bottoms of her feet, has her spread her bare toes and clench from the sensation.
"Who would have thought…" Annie thinks, "How all that resentment and grief would have led me here…"
It's one of life's odd and cruel paths, Annie's come to realize— when bitterness shapeshifts into hate and sucks a soul so dry of life and pleasure, a vessel void of every kind of feeling is left behind. She's had to walk with it for years, endure it like her comrades have. Now she's long past being that human-husk, years away from that mess of a teenager who was barely hanging on. Annie wakes up and experiences sunlight which simmers on her skin as much as her pores feel to radiate it. Canary-blond hair which is much softer than she expected sleeps on her shoulder or against the top of her head. Armin holds her close, even on nights when Titan breath and decapitations don't let her sleep, don't allow her to believe she deserves to be held. Armin is there and he never lets go—she doesn't either.
But there's still one thing she wants from him. If there's one more question she can ask, one wish she could have, it's...
"Don't change," she whispers, her words faint and voice thick, "You were always enough just as you are. It never mattered to me that you didn't look or act like your friends—all that is why I saw you...don't change…"
A second is all the time Armin needs to respond but not before he pulls her closer, "Only if you promise to do the same."
As much as Annie has a soft spot for Armin, I wondered if it's because it happened over time. Annie was intensely jaded but her exposure to the 104th allowed her to experience typical human interaction and learn to care. Being the bitter child she was, I wouldn't be surprised if she stayed that way until time on Paradis whittled away at it
