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Ymir hit the doorbell over and over again, smirking. And then something occurred to her, the smile disappearing in a second.
“Shit no-“
Running around back to climb over the fence, Ymir let herself in through the back door. Hesitantly stepping in, she called Christa’s name.
“Christa? Babe, are you here?”
Praying for a mistake, that she was wrong and no one was home, Ymir stopped to listen. She heard a muffled sob from the bathroom instead. Swearing under her breath, she went down the hallway and tried the knob on the door. Locked, of course. Trying to keep her voice calm, she rested her head against it.
“Christa, will you open the door for me?”
A small, wavering “no” came from within.
“Why not? Please, Christa-“
Ymir cut herself off, swallowing a sob. When Christa did reply, her voice was breaking.
“Just go, Ymir! I want-“
She paused for a moment, and Ymir held her breath.
“I just want everything to stop and this is the only way and-“
Ymir slammed her hands against the door, openly crying now. Backing up, she kicked the door, once, twice. Concentrating her energy into getting it open, a third, decisive kick made the door break open, and Ymir made a dash for Christa, tackling her.
Christa shrieked, tightening her hold on her knife. Ymir, sitting on Christa, uncurled her fingers from around the handle and threw it into the hallway, immediately turning her full attention back to Christa. The two girls both crying, Christa swore at Ymir, barely understandable through her tears.
“Why wouldn’t you fucking let me? Why? God dammit Ymir, you don’t understand! I’m worthless and a fucking waste of space and love and time and I shouldn’t exist anymore!”
Upon hearing that, Ymir got off Christa, kneeling beside her.
“God, Christa-“
That was as far as she could get. She pulled Christa into her arms, and they ended up sitting on the bathroom floor crying for what felt like hours, clinging to each other.
Their breathing slowed eventually, tears stopping, voices clearer. Ymir unattached herself from Christa, rocking up into a crouch, holding onto her arms.
“Come on, we’re going to the kitchen.”
Christa nodded, and allowed Ymir to pull her up, putting an arm around her. Ymir guided Christa to the table, going to the stove and putting milk in a pan to heat up. Christa was silent, and Ymir felt uneasy with her back turned. She shifted in her seat, and Ymir’s heart skipped a beat.
“Don’t even think about it, Christa.”
She stiffened, wondering how Ymir had known what she was thinking. Ymir came over and sat beside her, trying to decide if she wanted to talk. Christa laid her head on the table, looking absently at Ymir.
“Christa-“
Ymir swallowed, fighting back the urge to not say anything.
“I just want you to know, no matter what you believe, how loved you are. I…”
Christa just stared at her, expression blank.
“I didn’t say no one loves me. I said it’s wasted on me.”
Ymir sat back in her chair, feeling like someone had just punched her in the face.
“Christa… Fucking shit, I have nothing to say. I fucking love you, and all I want to do is cuddle the negativity in your head away, but I know I can’t. So… What do you need from me? As long as it doesn’t involve me leaving you alone.”
The milk started to make a hissing noise, and Ymir went over to take it off the burner, leaving Christa to think. Knowing Christa’s kitchen, Ymir got out the cocoa mix, pouring the warm milk into mugs and stirring the powder in.
“Ymir….”
Christa put her head in her hands, hair obscuring her face. Ymir brought the mugs over, sitting back down. Christa showed no signs of wanting to sit up, and Ymir took a sip of her hot chocolate, looking at her. Slowly, Ymir started to cry again, setting her drink down and covering her face with her hands.
Christa raised her head, and the sight of Ymir so unguarded surprised her. Unsure of what to do, Christa moved her chair closer, tentatively putting a hand on Ymir’s knee.
“Come on, Ymir, don’t cry…”
Ymir’s hands dropped to her lap, and she stared at Christa, furious.
“Well, fuck, Christa, what other reaction would you like me to have if the one person I love most in this goddamn world believes she doesn’t deserve love and would rather not be here?”
Christa looked back at her with so much negativity built up, she lashed out.
“I’m so goddamn sorry, Ymir! So sorry to even be here, sorry to have people in my life I’m afraid of hurting, sorry that I’m too much of a coward to actually do it!”
Ymir blanched, staring at Christa like she was someone she’d never met. She thought about what she had just said, and it just made her cry more. Christa directed her attention to the floor, scolding herself for yelling at someone who didn’t deserve it, for yelling at all.
“I’m sorry, Ymir, I didn’t mean to yell at you. That doesn’t happen very often.”
“You direct all that anger to yourself instead, don’t you?”
Christa hadn’t been expecting a reply, and she wasn’t used to Ymir analyzing her instead of watching her do it to someone else.
“I- yeah, you’re right, but it doesn’t matter-“
“Of course it fucking matters, Christa! I knew you were hurting, but I didn’t know how much! And it kills me that you didn’t want anyone to know!”
“Obviously I’m going to talk to someone about my problems if I feel like I’m nothing but a burden! That makes so much sense!”
Christa glared at Ymir, guilt forgotten.
“I’ve wanted to just not be since seventh grade, alright? It got a little better when I moved back, but that doesn’t just go away! I asked myself every day if it would have been better for me to not have been born. Would it have saved my mom the trouble of caring for a child whose father is, as far as I know, totally MIA? Would it have saved my friends the trouble of caring for someone as worthless as me? Would it have saved someone as amazing as you the trouble of spending time with me? And I couldn’t even bring myself to do it, because I knew it would cause even more trouble.”
Ymir sat speechless, tears coming faster. Christa saw it, but something inside her just wouldn’t stop. She started to cry too as she talked, upsetting herself further.
“How do you tell your mother you want to die? How do you tell your new acquaintances who barely know you that? I wondered if anyone would miss me, if anyone would care. I was convinced the answer was no, even though some part of me knew it was bullshit. Dammit, it would have just been easier a few years ago, when I wasn’t as involved with you guys-“
Ymir looked at her like a kicked puppy, both of them crying. Christa put her head down, racked with violent sobs. Ymir opened her mouth to say something, but closed it, shoving her chair over to sit side by side with Christa’s, picking up the small girl for a minute, moving her to her lap. Christa fought it, but gave in, burying her face in Ymir’s shirt. Ymir rested her head on the other girl’s arm, holding her tightly. They cried together for a while, the talking over.
Ymir, once quiet, ran her hands through Christa’s hair. The smaller girl hiccupped, and Ymir cracked a slight smile.
“Ymir? I’m… I’m exhausted.”
“Do you want to take a nap?”
Christa nodded and pressed herself closer to Ymir as she got up. Ymir shifted her weight in her arms, holding her like she was something delicate and very, very precious. Taking care not to bump her legs against anything, Ymir carried her down the hallway and into her bedroom. She hesitated slightly, but lowered Christa down so that she could crawl underneath the covers, holding them up for Ymir to follow. Christa curled into Ymir, nose pressed against her collarbone. Ymir curled around her, arm draped on Christa’s hip.
“Ymir?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
Ymir’s eyes filled with tears at the sound of Christa’s unsteady voice, and she kissed her head, closing her eyes.
“I love you too, Christa.”
Christa took a deep breath in, comforted by how familiar Ymir’s cinnamon-y smell was to her, and slowly fell asleep.