**WARNING: A suicide attempt/self harm is featured in this chapter. But please, do not fret, I think it's one of my best chapters yet ;) Geez, I'm such a nerd**
Annie paced back and forth in the dark, empty alleyway, unable to control her movements. Her steps were becoming sharper and faster the more she thought—correction, the more the Female Titan screamed in her head.
You're not seriously considering that cursed girl's option, are you? She's a weak, mindless nobody. She lives for that small blonde—she's pathetic. Almost as pathetic as you. You think about that scrawny thing of a man almost everyday, and he's done nothing but hurt you. Betray you. He and his cold-blooded brain deserve to be slaughtered like a pig.
"Stop it," Annie muttered under her breath. It was almost two in the morning and the wind was howling loudly like a lone wolf, but Annie still tried to keep her voice down. She felt like the breeze would carry her voice into the sky and spread it among the people of this stupid and cruel city if she didn't keep quiet.
The world is your enemy, Annie. How many times must I remind you of that? You can't trust anyone. Not even Reiner and Berthold, whom you haven't even seen in almost half a year! It would be best if you went home to your father. We both know you can't handle yourself anymore than a starving lion.
"I said stop it." The blonde dug her jagged fingernails into her palms and pulled her lips into a tight, white line.
The Female Titan laughed softly, low and mockingly. What are you going to do if I don't, "stab" me with that dull knife the Dancing Titan gave you? You must've figured out by now that you're only hurting yourself, idiot. I can never die, no matter what you threaten me with. I'll always be here. I'll always be here to watch you fall—
"SHUT UP!" Annie unknowingly threw a quick but strong punch against a nearby dumpster, the blue metal crinkling around her fist, a loud echoing sound ringing in her ears. She slowly pulled her hand away, pain shooting through her knuckles, examining the damage she created.
Blood dripped down her fingers in narrow rivers and plopped onto the snow below her. Her vision focused on her red blood seeping into the white snow for a moment. Her blood looked so dirty, so tainted, and the snow so pure. She was taking innocence away without even knowing it.
She gently lowered onto her knees, feeling her entire body turn blue from the cold, cold air. The snow on the ground formed around her legs and the snow above continued falling all around her, like heavy tears slipping from the darkened sky. All she could hear was the wind's agonizing screams and things falling over, stray trash flying into the gusts, a broken chair banging against the blue dumpster.
You can never leave me. I was here since the moment you came into this world, and I'll be here until you leave it. But who knows for sure? Maybe I'll find you in the afterlife.
"No," Annie mumbled, her bloodied hand reaching into her sweatshirt pocket. She shakenly gripped Ymir's switchblade and pulled it out. Both girls watched Annie activate the blade.
You're really going to do it, aren't you? Well, I'm sure as hell not going to miss you—then again, who will? Your father, perhaps, but no one else. Not really. Good riddance, you heartless bitch.
"Please, just leave me alone." Tears fell down from her wide eyes like a waterfall, her teeth grounded into her bottom lip like a giant claw. Her hand trembled as she held the knife inches from her exposed wrist. "Please…"
Pleading for your life now? I'm not the one holding the knife, Annie girl. This is all your doing. You've bloodied your own hands. You've killed, betrayed, and lied. Who could ever forgive such a crime? You're not worth saving, Annie.
You're not worth anything.
"LEAVE ME ALONE!" Without feeling anything, Annie slashed the switchblade across her left wrist. She repeated this action a dozen times, reopening old wounds and creating new ones. Blood spurted from the cuts and pooled along her skin, sweatshirt, and the snow beneath her. She didn't feel any pain but she did hear the Female Titan's evil laughter ring in her head, no mercy, no pity. This caused her to move to the right wrist, birthing long and deep cuts along her small wrist. More bodily fluids poured from her and still no pain. When would it come?
Annie suddenly remembered Ymir showing her the marks on the back of her neck. That's where they live. She turned the bloody knife over in her hand and reached the nape of her neck and begin sawing away. At first, nothing happened, just more blood and more wicked amusement from the Female Titan. And then the monster inside her stopped—that's when the overwhelming pain finally took over her body.
Annie's painful screams pierced the air, reaching the same octave as the powerful wind whipping at her open cuts. She squeezed Ymir's weapon in her hand as she stared in horror at what she'd just done. She jumped to her feet, stumbling a bit along the way, and let all the emotions she locked away drain from her like a sink faucet.
She cried like she never cried before, cursing and blaming herself for everything that went wrong in her life. She left her father all alone, she left Reiner and Berthold in the cold, she left her mother in her blood.
She left Armin's heart broken.
She let out a surprised shriek when she thought of his name, his beautiful name. She looked all around her and realized that she wasn't too far from his home; without giving it a second thought, she began running, but to somewhere she'd never thought she would run to.
She ran home.
Shards of crystal flew from her mind as she finally, finally broke out, running not away from something but to something. The crystal she'd been trapped in for so long had finally shattered; she knew she wasn't going to rot somewhere cold and lonely anymore. Her feet pounded on the icy roads, blood and tears dripping from her, when she finally came to the door, his door, and slapped her fists against its wooden surface.
Sobs erupted from her while she continued to hit his door, waiting for what seemed like an eternity until it finally creaked open and Annie swore she felt her heart swell up at the sight of a very sleepy Armin Arlert. His blond hair was tousled and his blue eyes were narrowed into slits and two of the buttons on his black shirt were unbuttoned—he probably just woke up (it was almost two in the morning after all). But his expression changed dramatically when he saw Annie's current state. "A-Annie?"
She wept his name and then choked out "I'm sorry" as she felt Armin's arms wrap around her, taking her out of the cold and into the warmth of his home.
She heard the front door slam shut and Armin's shaky voice whisper in her ear, "You're here. You're really here." She felt his lips repeatedly press against her temple, ear, cheekbone, and jawline, his fingers tangling themselves in her hair. Her own fingers gripped at his back and she buried her face in the crook of his neck, bawling how sorry she was.
They stayed like this for the longest time. When they finally convinced themselves that their significant other was really there, standing right in front of them, they stepped back to look at each other's eyes, Armin's hands on her shoulders, Annie's hands grasping at his forearms.
"Annie, where were you? Are you hurt?" Although relief still lingered in his voice, worry and concern crawled back in.
Annie couldn't answer him properly—all that came out of her mouth were her hysterical cries and the words "I'm sorry". She just had to let him know that, above all else. She promised them both that she would never hurt him ever again.
"Annie, please tell me what's…" His sentence trailed off once he saw the large red stains on the cuffs of Annie's white sweatshirt. The sight of Armin's face falling in horror made Annie's stomach knot up in guilt. His trembling fingers slowly peeled back the wet fabric and Annie seriously thought that he was going to have a heart attack.
His other hand slapped against his open mouth just as a small but horrified gasp escaped from his lips. Tears formed in his big eyes and flowed down his cheeks and seep through the gaps in his fingers. His gaze flickered from wrist to wrist like he was trying to decide which one looked worse. "Why…" he managed in a low, unsteady voice. "Why would you do such a thing to yourself?"
She tried to swallow a sob as he gently held her blood-coated fingers, staining his own peachy skin with her dark blood. "I-I'm sorry…" She looked him in the eye. "Please help me."
All it took were those little words for Armin to rush her over to the nearest bathroom, switch on running water, and grab the first aid kit. He pushed her sleeves up and carried the back of her left wrist like it made of glass, so fragile, easily breakable. He then slid his other hand into hers and told her to squeeze if she was in any pain. She did as she was told once her injured wrist was placed under the running water.
Cleaning the wounds was the longest and most painful part of the whole process. Annie truly believed that she would break Armin's hand if she squeezed any longer, so she transferred over to biting her lip. But as soon as a thick and narrow line trickled down her chin, she felt Armin seize her jaw roughly and glare straight at her.
"If you keep hurting yourself, then you can't keep using the same bullshit excuse saying how sorry you are," he muttered in a voice that was not his.
After seeing Annie's frightened reaction, Armin softened his expression and added, "If you want help, then let me help you."
She let him wash the rest of the blood out, leaving his hands bright red when he was done.
Before Armin splashed some clear liquid into the openings on her wrists, she snuck a peek at her injuries and flinched at what she saw. She apparently cut so deep that her actual muscles could be seen among the faded blood and blue veins; it looked like a slab of meat to her. And when the sharp stinging of the medicine had passed, she spotted a few white bubbles shifting around her meaty muscle.
"You cut yourself pretty deep," Armin murmured, more to himself than to her, as he reached for the first aid kit and plucked out some thread and a needle. And then, with a deep breath and adding in a quieter voice, he said, "I can do this." He then pushed the white box to the other side of the sink and then leaned down a bit to wrap his arms around Annie's waist, lift her up, and place her on the bloodied sink.
"This shouldn't hurt too much," he went on, preparing his needle and thread. "But if it does, just grab my arm." A second later, he rested his forehead against hers, just like he did on their first date.
"Don't worry. I'm right here."
Annie held on to those words and closed her eyes, feeling heavy tears outlining her damp cheeks. She couldn't really feel Armin stitching her skin together though. Armin eventually asked her what had she been doing for the past three months, to which she responded with the truth. She told him about all those icy nights and Three Walls and Ymir offering her dull knife and the Female Titan's haunting voice pounding in her head. She didn't tell him about Reiner and Berthold however, mainly because they weren't a part of Armin's question and she didn't particularly want to talk about them.
"And then I came here," she concluded, a huge weight being lifted from her shoulders. Her wet eyelids slowly peeled open to find Armin staring at her. She glanced down at her wrists—bandages encircled her repaired skin from her knuckles to the middle of her forearm. She also realized her sweatshirt was no longer on her body and something large and padded stuck to the nape of her neck. Just how long had she been zoned out with her depressing story?
Annie looked back at Armin, who gazed longingly at her, and asked, "How long have I been talking?"
"About an hour."
"When did you stop fixing my wounds?"
"Thirty minutes ago."
Her eyes drifted downward, her vision becoming blurry again. "I really am sorry."
"I know." He hesitantly reached out and very gently held her cold, stiff fingers. Some silent moments passed through before Armin finally said, "Please give me the knife."
Annie paused but eventually stuffed her bandaged hand down her back pocket and pulled out Ymir's bloody switchblade. Armin winced at the sight of Annie's dark blood drenching the small weapon as he took it and hid it in his own back pocket. He then wiped away the sorrowful look on his face with his kind smile and sincere blue eyes. "How about a good night's sleep? You definitely look like you need it." As he said this, his fingers brushed against Annie's stained cheeks, smearing the last of her tears away.
She said nothing as he led her by the hand to a small bedroom where he went to shut the blinds on the window while Annie tucked herself into bed, embracing her body with the heavy covers. She didn't lie down but sat still when Armin came over to plant a kiss upon her head.
"I'll be in the other room if you need me," he stated. Panic burst through her chest once Armin's back turned toward her and her hand unexpectedly flew out and gripped the corner of his shirt. Armin stumbled a bit but Annie held on tight, clutching onto him for dear life.
"Please don't leave me alone," she begged, her eyebrows scrunched up, her lips quivering. Nothing happened for a while but she eventually felt the bed sink down and Armin's thin arms wrap around her torso, his chin resting on her shoulder.
No words were exchanged for the rest of the night. All Annie heard was Armin's heartbeat as she lied her head on his narrow chest once her eyelids dropped and sleep overtook her way sooner than she had expected.
Right before the darkness evaded her mind and the usual bad dreams stirred within her imagination, Annie sensed Armin's hold on her tighten, burying his head into the crook of her neck, a tear splash against her collarbone, and the feel of his smile against her shoulder blade.
"Welcome home, Annie."