Coffee on coffee tables.

Us sitting on the same couch but facing each other—her knees up to her chest, my legs and arms crossed.

We were doing things normal people did.

We were fine.

At least enough to be normal people right now.

A surprisingly sunny day for late March—the sunshine glared on the large windows, casting a slightly comforting heat over us.

I cleared my throat, removing my eyes from outside.

"We…should probably talk it out more," I confessed to Historia, because I don't know if I could handle any more surprises.

Who knew if she had more—I didn't—I probably didn't even really know the girl before me as much as I thought I did.

Slowly, my mind was sticking the pieces together—remembering all the small details Historia gave of how she was different, she didn't know who she was, and how she was truthful but secretive at the same time.

Maybe I was a fool for not noticing sooner.

The lack of interest of sex—or more so the fear of it—and the avoidance of relationships.

It was almost humiliating how oblivious I was.

"What did you want to know?" She asked, holding herself and peering at me from above her drawn knees.

"I… Maybe I should know everything? Or most? I don't know… I need to know…as much as I can, Historia…"

She didn't seem discouraged.

She was wary and I think the moment she tried to seduce me this morning was the moment she entirely gave up.

"I was born this way—not that doctor's or my parent's knew. For all I was worth, I was born a 'boy'." She admitted.

That made a bit of sense but at the same time I felt myself tense up.

"It wasn't until I grew older that they noticed something was wrong—I wasn't getting sharper features. My voice was high-pitched. And I looked very much a girl." She stood up, clearing her throat.

"Let me show you." She said.

I utterly froze up.

"No," she quickly shot her hands out as if to stop the train wreck happening in my mind, "I meant… I have baby pictures."

I blinked a few times before curtly nodding, squeezing my eyes shut and then rubbing at them with my sweaty palms.

She disappeared for only a short moment before coming back with a red bound photobook. She sat by me and I sighed, lightly leaning into her.

She gave a reassuring kiss to my shoulder and I felt the queasiness ease a bit.

Why was I so scared over something like that?

It was stupid.

It wasn't that which hurt me but my—that man. Specifically only him.

She parted the book and its plastic crinkled and creaked, showing how it was hardly ever opened. Maybe out of embarrassment and denial, maybe because it didn't matter.

The first pictures showed her ultrasound with pictures and letters of congratulations to the baby boy.

Pieces of writing of her parents coming up with names—Dirk, Ulklin, Uri, and Kristopher.

On the other side were female names if the child had been assigned female—Florian, Abel, and Historia.

I snorted.

Historia gave me a quizzical glance.

"Thank God they didn't choose Dirk."

Historia's face bloomed into a beautiful, stupid smile as she lightly head-butted my shoulder.

"That's true," she hummed.

"So—which one?" I asked because the only one that seemed nice enough was Kristopher.

And, so she turned the page and I got my relieved answer—Kristopher Reiss.

Pictures of strangers at a baby shower and then a man and woman at the head of the table, smiling.

Ah.

Historia had the same color of eyes as her father, but he wasn't very handsome. Her mother was, though.

She was very pretty—Historia must've stole it all from her.

I licked my lips as she went through the pages of her mother's pregnancy pictures, when she was born, and a little copy of her birth certificate.

"Remind me to steal that when I want to take your identity," I told her.

"I will leave a post-it note," she remarked and we finally got to her childhood pictures.

"So," my eyes were searching for the hints of Historia being herself—being the person she was now.

"Do they still…call you Kristopher?"

"Mm…since I dressed to how I feel, they call me Krista. I prefer Historia, though." She hummed, thoughtful and glancing at me.

"It must be confusing for you…to be told all of this."

I shook my head.

"Nah. It's pretty simple. You want to be called Historia. That's all I need to know or care about."

She nuzzled further into my shoulder as we humored over her childhood.

Truly, I could tell we were both a bit afraid but we were also brave enough to stand through it together.

We both were going to make this work—I just…

"Um, I just," I muttered when she got to pictures of when she started wearing dresses, "I just…wanted to say…I reacted terribly and…I'm sorry…I don't think of you any less…"

It had been bubbling in the back of my throat since it happened, but I was so choked up and ashamed at how I reacted that it almost hurt to say it.

"And I'm sorry for being an asshole," Historia sighed, "I should've…been truthful and given you a chance before…practically forcing you into something—it was terrible of me… and the worst."

We both glanced at each other, letting the apologies sink in.

"We're just terrible people," Historia murmured.

"Normal people," I corrected, "people act weird all the time…and stupid. We just did it at the same time."

Historia was fond of that answer as she shook her head, smiling and closing the photobook after we finished our browsing.

"I was born intersex, have you heard of that?"

"I have."

"I am both genders, Ymir." She explained and she said it so confidently—I admired her.

I loved her so much.

"I have breasts like a woman…and you know the rest."

She glanced down at her own lap, fiddling with her hands.

"And I know you're lesbian…and some people don't think—some people think if you have—"

"What do you mean? I am a lesbian." I deadpanned and she flinched a little.

Just subtly as if she was hiding her worsening fear.

"That's why I'm with you, aren't I?"

She flashed a thankful glance but I wasn't doing her a service—I just stated a fact.

"Sometimes, Ymir, I feel very much a woman…and sometimes, some days, I like how I am—that I'm more than a gender. I'm me. I love being me. And that's not lesbian because I'm not female—I'm in-between."

Of all the months I attended the LGBTQ club with Sasha I had never heard of an in-between. It had always been one or another.

Asexuality, aromantic, bisexual, pansexual, polyamorous, lesbian, gay, straight, transsexual, queer, demisexual—the list went on and on and I knew there was more but I had only ever been exposed to that.

I heard of intersex—it existed outside of my life—but I never knew what it might've inferred.

And I didn't know what it meant to me.

For a long time, I had hid the fact that I didn't know what I really was—I watched straight porn on occasion. Some of it was nice. A lot of it not so much.

I watched lesbian porn, too.

And gay men.

I watched a lot of things, hoping it might shed light on whether it was my trauma that kept me from finding out who I was—to see if I was hiding parts of myself.

But nothing ever said much.

Didn't help my friends made me feel confined to a single orientation—saying I was too gay to even like men.

Over time, it became a part of me—being lesbian. I fell into the culture and clichés just as neat as a puzzle piece.

"I know…that you love me and I love you," Historia's voice was so far away while my head swam with thoughts, "but I don't want to…I don't know, Ymir. I don't want you to think… I don't know if I will ever get an operation done to 'fix' me, and I don't want to think of the day that happens it turns out to be something you aren't into…do you understand?"

I was at a crossroad in my life.

Historia was something much more than petty categories—she was above labeling herself and trying to fit into neat little packages.

Was I able to keep up with that?

"Do you want to get an operation done?" I asked into the heavy air.

It was getting really hot with the sun beating down on us, magnified by the windows.

"…Some days I feel like that's my only option."

"But, do you want it—if you could choose whatever you want and no matter the choice you'd be given happiness, what would you choose?"

I stared at her, eyes softening.

"…W-why does it matter?" She was scared again.

It was plastered all over her face like I was giving her an ultimatum.

"I want to know what you want."

She began to curl and play with the ends of her hair, thinking.

She opened her mouth a few times but stopped, finding every phrase too much or too little.

Until she found her words.

"I would want to be myself…no operations."

She was disappointed in herself as she said it.

I nodded, slow and sure.

"Then I will…I will love you just the same."

I heard her gulp down whatever air was stuck in her throat as she stared at me.

"But…don't you like—"

"I don't know what I like either… but I do know I love you and I want to be with you." I told her and she sat back quickly.

Eyes staring wide at the wall.

I didn't need any other words as I brought her into my lap, giving her shelter as she clung to me, crying.

Crying so happily and scared.

I kissed her cheek and neck and rocked her as she whispered raw words into my neck's skin, soaking me with her relief.

"I fell for Historia," I reminded her as she nuzzled deeper into me, "not your gender."

I didn't know how she felt but she quelled her silent tears as she pulled away, staring at me.

"How do I know…you're not saying that just to try and be nice?" She asked, cupping my face and examining my eyes, searching for lies.

It hurt a little to hear it, but I knew she was scared—doubtful that she probably heard words she never thought she would.

"I'm not a very nice person." I replied and she considered it and it seemed to be reasonable enough as she chuckled, releasing her hold on me and kissing my chin.

"That's right—you punched Connie on our first date."

"To be honest, he sort of des—wait." I stopped.

I stared at her.

Her eyes widened only a fraction, stilling.

"When he—you fell and—Oh my God—Historia! He racked you, didn't he!?" I gaped, mortified.

I jostled her in my lap as her face went red as she laughed loud, making the walls of the house shake as I cried out.

"Historia! I'm so sorry! I should've kicked him in the balls to make up for it! Ugh! Historia!" I groaned, leaning back as she was still cracking up in my lap.

But it only brought more questions as I shot up, almost headbutting her.

"Wait! When we were making out, when I gave you a piggy back ride, why didn't I feel it then—wait, am I a bad kisser? Because when we made out I was super fuc—" her hand went over my racing mouth.

"Do you really want to know about that?" She asked clearly like she was about to explain something terrible to a child.

Despite the little smile on her face.

"…well, yeah—you're my girlfriend—uh, significant other?" We'd have to work on how I called her.

"Girlfriend is fine… I like girl terms more. They're cute."

"Hah. Alright…but, I do want to know…how you, um, hide it? Wait, is that bad to say it that way?"

"Yeah. Hide. Don't worry about it, Ymir—you're not walking on pins and needles with me. Just be you and I know you're being sincere." Historia assured, kissing my cheek this time.

"Well, there's a thing call tucking—"

"Like on RuPaul's Drag Race?" It dawned on me.

"Yeah, just like that."

"Does it hurt?"

"Well, sometimes, it's uncomfortable…especially when you get turned on," she admitted.

"…so you…you tuck all the time?"

"No, not all. Just—um, just when I'm with you."

"Oh…well, um, are you…well, you don't have to do that anymore… I will—I will get used to it and all…Just, I don't want you uncomfortable." I was readjusting my sitting arrangement.

I couldn't help it.

I kept glancing down between her legs as if I'd suddenly just see it more often.

She caught on and glimpsed down herself.

"…Are you curious?"

The light atmosphere that we somehow achieved was shot down and I felt my face flush as I tilted my head away but not quite looking away.

"Ah, I won't tease you," Historia schooled herself but I licked my lips.

Eventually, I'd have to see it.

And I knew I could accept it one way or another.

It's just… wasn't it just very—well, non-romantic to just one day been shown it?

Especially after the fight it just seemed like bad timing…

I looked her in the eyes and saw she wasn't bothered one bit.

"I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to peek," Historia's cheeks reddened a bit at saying it.

"I…it's fine?"

I was very much aware of how my skin was heating up and the choked up feeling in my throat.

Historia nodded, pulling away from me and then standing—still wearing just my shirt and her underwear hidden underneath its length.

"If it's too much, Ymir, don't push yourself." She eased, not moving an inch until I spoke.

"I—yeah, I… I want to see…to understand…" I tried to explain it but I think she knew what I was trying to say—that I wanted and had to get used to it.

This was a part of her that I would grow to love like the rest of her.

How could I not? It was Historia.

"Okay. You can tell me to stop."

It was then that I saw Historia was fumbling and her legs were shaking a little—oh, oh, oh, she was just as nervous.

It made me feel a bit better to know we were on equal footing.

I felt a shiver go down my spine as I saw her small hands lift up the shirt, showing her underwear. I could see the outline of it a bit.

Not all but most.

It wasn't something I was used to seeing except in the porn videos I watched—even then it wasn't like this.

The usually were fully erect.

I inhaled sharply and she shot me a worried look.

I gave a rigid nod.

The only time I saw a real life dick was accidentally walking on Connie pissing in the woods when we were hunting and when Jean was drunk off his ass and somehow fell asleep on the floor half naked.

She shimmied her hips a little, tugging down the underwear. It trailed slower than I thought ever imagine.

Before I saw anything I saw her thick pubic hair—light brown and blonde.

It never occurred to me if shaving down there with a dick would be harder or easier. In fact, I didn't expect anything down there because Historia seemed to shave everywhere.

Except there.

Maybe she didn't expect having to upkeep it due to thinking nobody would see.

Another inch and a few.

I saw the base—it was thick.

Like, really thick.

My eyes widened, expecting to see her whip out something large, but it was just…thick and small.

I just stared.

She...Yeah.

Yep.

That was a dick…and balls.

But—

"Um," she shyly hid herself with the shirt, "I…ha-ha…"

For once I thoroughly embarrassed the vixen.

"I—wow—um, what you think?" She completely didn't know what to say. I could see it written across her face that she realized how awkward it was to reveal herself.

Especially to a woman like me, lounging on her couch and just staring like a judge.

I furrowed my brow a bit.

"It's…um, it's…" I didn't know what to say either.

"Uh, I am surprised?" I tried to reason because she was beginning to get really anxious.

"It's—it's thicker than most—er, like, I saw Connie's and Jean's—uh, on accident! It's thicker than theirs! Um, good job! Uh—but, like, uh, it's not that…very big like the ones I saw in porn and I—um, it's a good dick! Uh, yeah, it's—Historia?"

Historia's eyes were just wide in horror as she cupped herself.

Oh God.

Wait.

People were always self-conscious about—Oh no! I called her small!

"Wait, it's a good dick! I love it!" I yelled loudly as she groaned, racing away to her room, probably wishing she could die of embarrassment as I chased her to only her door to give her space.

"I—I love it! It's beau—ugh. Historia, it's—I—It isn't scary to me! It's, um, you—I—Jesus Christ, Historia, throw me some slack—how am I supposed to compliment a dick? Dicks are just—dicks! There's no words to describe a dick as 'pretty'!"

I whined, knocking at her doors like a puppy crying to get back inside from being booted out.

I listened.

And I heard her laughing.

She was right against the door as I felt it shudder from her laughs.

"I—why did I show you!? That was so—so unromantic!" She was giggling away as I felt myself grin, blushing and itching the back of my neck, leaning my back against the door.

"It—it was something! Maybe next time you should give me a lap dance before whipping out the Reiss?"

"The Reiss!? Oh God! Ymir! Shut up!" She couldn't breathe.

I laughed with her.

"Maybe put some rose petals on it so it'll be romantic? Huh?"

"Ymir! You're a dork! Go make breakfast! I'm hungry and I will change and we can go out somewhere today!"

I snorted.

"Alright, alright, I will be the good housewife." I shook my head leaving, feeling silly.

It was nice, though.

It felt…normal.

It felt right—perfect almost.

I grinned, hugging myself.

Historia was amazing.