May finally emerged, which meant that spring was in full bloom. No cold, no ice, no snow. Just warmth, sunshine, and flowers. Fucking finally, Annie thought to herself.
May also meant that Armin completed his third year of college—and that meant that he had lots of free time on his hands which Annie was more than happy to fill up with.
Her visits to the hospital slowly became less frequent. Hanji was glad to hear that the Female Titan wasn't tormenting Annie as much as she used to. Although she would sometimes catch a low growl or a faint but furious scream; Hanji told her that the monster within her would never truly go away, she could only be tamed. So as long as Annie was happy and satisfied (and taking her medication) she wouldn't hear too much from her personal demons.
At this point, Annie decided, any change is better than no change.
Over the past couple months, the crystal-eyed girl found herself having hobbies and making friends, something she'd never see herself doing in a million years. She became close friends with one of Armin's other companions, a sweet girl named Mina Carolina who reminded her of another with bright blue eyes and cheering smiles. Annie developed a liking for playing instruments and sketching after listening to Mina play the flute and spotting a mural-in-the-making on a lonely brick wall. Goosebumps rose on her arms while hearing Mina's melody and her heart stopped at the sight of sharp and proud angel wings spray-painted onto a side building with a very concentrated Jean Kirtstein at the bottom.
This made her want to learn more about the arts; she figured it would be a nice place to get to know herself a bit more and show others what she was capable of, all the while remaining in the shadows. That was the thing about art or music or writing—you didn't have to let the world know who you are, and Annie liked it that way.
So she began to experiment with charcoal drawings and teaching herself how to play the violin; it was a lot harder than she thought it would be but still she was totally enchanted by other people's work that it only pushed herself harder to get her own work done.
One sunny morning, as Annie sat up in bed and quietly sketched out a lit candle while Armin lied beside her and traced little circles on her bare skin and watched her draw, Annie yawned behind her hand and then set her sketchbook to the side.
"Waking up early just to draw is never a good idea," she huffed, snuggling into Armin, disappointed in her work.
He chuckled into her unkempt hair. "I thought you were doing a wonderful job."
She snorted. "Whatever."
He groaned dramatically as he slowly rolled on top of her. "You are hard to please," he mumbled into the crook of her neck.
A tiny smile curved upon her lips when she stretched her neck out further. "Not with everything," she replied in a sly tone, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.
Her heart soared when she felt him smile against her skin and continue to trace her body with ajar lips, breathing her in like a warm candle. She always felt like this whenever he touched her, like her chest was about to explode in a fiery gust of sparks and colors. She adored this feeling and didn't want it to end. Sadly, it did just that as soon as Armin sat up, bringing Annie with him, her grip on him still firm.
For a moment, the two soulmates stared at each other, foreheads resting against one another's, Annie's long eyelashes lightly brushing against Armin's cheekbones. He smiled at the touch and placed his hands on her waist.
"I told my grandfather that we would visit him today," he said.
"When?" Annie asked as she turned slightly toward the alarm clock on the nightstand. 8:48 AM.
"Before lunch, he said. He told me he was going to prepare something special, but I highly doubt it'll be edible. My grandfather is good at many things, but cooking is not one of them." He sighed theatrically while Annie burst into a fit of giggles, earning her a big kiss on the side of her head.
"We still have some time," Annie purred, locking her fingers in his messed-up hair and closing any space between them. Armin opened his mouth to protest, but she quickly occupied it with her own lips, lifting herself on her knees so that she was above him, pushing down on him.
She felt him pause for a second, but only for a second. He finally kissed her back and the sweet moment lingered on. She didn't know how much time had passed of them running their hands along each other's skin or how long their lips stayed connected like melting hot glue. However, she knew it wasn't long enough, even when Armin broke away from her, lifted them both off the bed, and then stated, "Seriously though; we should get going if I have the possibility of saving lunch."
Annie pouted.
They proceeded to get ready for the day—including Annie swallowing down her daily pills—before walking out the front door, hand in hand. The walk to the old man's home took longer than she expected but it was worth it when they finally made to the peaceful residence of Mr. Arlert.
The house appeared just like all the other houses here in the suburbs: small, rectangle-shaped, one floor. Mainly built out of bricks and stone. A cement porch outlined the front door and window with a long wooden swing at the end. Small bushes containing red flowers sat in a tiny soil patch in front of the house.
Again, the structure looked like every other house on the block. But she felt somewhat at ease here; she wasn't sure if it was the porch swing or the blooming buds, but nevertheless, she felt peaceful and blissfulness.
She let Armin guide her up to the entrance. He tapped his knuckles against the door and then turned to smile at her. "I think you'll like it here," he said. "Granddad's really excited to see you."
"You say that about everyone you want me to meet."
The dull yellow door opened then, silencing any argument Armin tried to bring up. A tall man (well, about an inch or two taller than Armin, at least) with a bushy grey beard and a wooden cane stood in the doorway. Annie instantly recognized the family genetics between the two men. The ocean blue eyes, the thin bones, the heartwarming smiles. It was almost like she was looking at a future Armin Arlert with greying hair and wrinkled skin.
"Armin, my boy," the old man greeted, raising one arm and wrapping it around his shoulders to pull him into a hug.
"Hi, Granddad." He returned the embrace and then stepped to the side to introduce Annie, who suddenly felt nervous. "This is Annie Leonhart."
She stared at the ground to prevent the men from seeing the stupid rouge color on her cheeks.
"We meet at last, Miss Leonhart." Armin's grandfather went for her hand; to shake it, she thought, but instead, he clasped both of his wrinkly hands over her smooth one. He patted it gently with a small smile across his thin lips. "Armin was right—you do have the loveliest eyes."
At the same time when Annie mumbled out a timid "Thanks", she saw Armin jolt and blush embarrassingly from the corner of her eye and exclaim loudly, "Alright, Granddad! I'm so glad you said that! You mentioned you were preparing lunch today?"
Shortly after that awkward exchange, Annie found herself in the living room, examining all the comfy furniture and simple decorations. Armin was telling her a story about his parents as she held a picture frame that contained a blonde woman, a brunet man, and a six-year-old Armin, all holding hands while skipping down a sidewalk. She smiled faintly at how wide and how blue little Armin's eyes were when his grandfather walked into the room and said, "Armin, would you mind helping me with the casserole? My legs are getting a bit tired."
The boy straightened up and nodded. "Of course," he replied before heading to the kitchen.
Annie set the memory back on the white mantelpiece where she found it. She turned to face Mr. Arlert, who was slowly lowering himself into a sturdy rocking chair in the corner of the room. He then glanced up at her and gestured toward the loveseat to his right.
"Please, take a seat," he insisted. "Make yourself comfortable."
She paused for a brief moment before strolling over and sitting down. Her eyes continued to scan the area curiously, but they stopped when Armin's grandfather said, "Not much of a talker, are you?"
With the same emotionless expression she held on her face, she crossed her legs, placed an elbow on her thigh, and rested her chin in her palm, her gaze finally falling on the old man. "I guess not."
He smirked, his cheeks crinkling at the action. "That's quite alright. Well, luckily for you, I don't mind doing all the talking." He chuckled lowly while Annie's lips twitched a bit.
She glimpsed at the skinny vase standing on the end table that sat between her and Mr. Arlert. All it contained was a single red flower, just like the ones outside in the front yard. It was flat and its scarlet red petals were long and skinny, much like a daisy's. But it wasn't a daisy—she hadn't seen this particular flower before—and she leaned toward it a bit to get a closer look.
Mr. Arlert noticed this and plucked the plant from its display. "This is a gerbera flower," he explained, brushing his thumb over the tips of the petals. "My wife was obsessed with gardening and knew everything about it. In fact, she had one of these in her hair on the day we first met." He paused to smile at the memory. "When I asked her about it, she told me what it was and said that it resembled innocence and cheerfulness. The red color, she hastily added, added passion and strength and determination to the mix."
Annie nodded her head once and then opened her mouth to say something, but the old man rose a finger and both of his eyebrows at her, bringing her movements to a halt.
"Ah, but there's a point to this seemingly pointless story." He then did something that Annie didn't see coming: he began plucking the petals off the gerbera and letting them drop to the rice white carpet below, reminding her of bloody tears against soft snow.
He must've got some reaction out of her because he stopped to smile gently at her before tugging off a few more petals until only four remained. He held the now damaged flower in front of her and continued his lesson.
"When I stepped closer to her, I noticed that only four petals were on the gerbera. So, being my nosy self, I had asked her why she wore such an injured flower—I said it wasn't full, it was missing several pieces. And then she gently touched the remaining petals and looked at me. And what she said next I'll never forget. She said, 'Broken things are often the most beautiful creatures. They have seen things beyond our imagination, survived long and brutal wars, and have the scars to prove it. Their points-of-view are interesting and very wise and their souls are the kindest ones you'll ever cross in life.' She smiled a little before she repeated, 'Broken things are often the most beautiful creatures.'"
Mr. Arlert peeked at Annie through the open gaps in between the narrow petals. "Wouldn't you agree, Miss Leonhart?" he asked, giving her a knowing wink, which surprised her a little, even though she recollected the time when Armin had called practically everyone he knew to inform them of Annie's arrival and past experiences.
But still, she somewhat agreed with the statement, although she felt different about one little detail.
Broken things don't always look broken—sometimes they look as good as new.
Luckily, before she could answer, Armin came into the living room (more like planted his feet in the kitchen while his blond head poked through the doorway). "Lunch is ready!" he announced in a loud and cheery voice so adorable, that Annie couldn't bite back her affectionate smile and quiet laughter from escaping her.
"Excellent," Mr. Arlert replied, grinning up at his grandson. "Thank you very much, my dear boy. We'll be there in a moment."
Armin nodded understandingly before spinning back into the kitchen to make any final preparations.
Annie watched Mr. Arlert gently placed the now broken gerbera in the tiny vase on the end table, back in its home, and the small blonde thought that the flower looked just as beautiful as it did before it lost some of its pieces. She only realized it to be true when the wise old man smiled and said, "Well, why don't you look at that? It's whole again."
At that, she brought back her thoughtful smile, her chest swelling in utter delight.
"Yes. Yes, it is."