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“Historia, I’m tired.”
“Then go to sleep.”
“Noooo…”
Historia brushed Ymir’s hair aside, smiling fondly down at her.
Nights like these were her favorite.
In her closet (yes, she saw the irony there) it felt like they were the only ones in the world. With Ymir’s warmth beside her, her head in her lap, the soft music, and whatever she had picked up to do, she was comfortable, and safe, and happy.
Ymir nuzzled her thigh, making her squirm, and she laughed, smirking at her.
“God, you’re ticklish.”
Historia rolled her eyes, absently playing with Ymir’s dark hair, and they were quiet.
For a few minutes.
“Hey. I’m hungry.”
“Ymir, it’s four in the morning.”
“It is not-“
She trailed off as Historia pointed to the alarm clock placed on a shelf.
“Okay. It is. But I’m still hungry.”
“Fine, we’ll go get something. Let’s just not wake the entire house up, okay?”
Ymir stood up first with a scoff, offering her hand and pulling her up. They left her room, going downstairs to the kitchen.
Once they got there, Ymir’s head in the fridge, Historia yawned, tugging on her arm.
“I’m gonna go to the bathroom. Meet you upstairs?”
“Sure, babe.”
Ymir ended up getting some orange juice, chips, and mainly for Historia, she made cinnamon toast. She went back upstairs, going into her girlfriend’s room.
Historia was asleep on her bed, blonde hair covering the pillow, expression so peaceful. Ymir almost wondered what she was dreaming about.
“Man, you’re such a dork.”
She put her food down, drinking the orange juice and shoving the toast in her mouth, pulling the covers over Historia and lying beside her. With a smile, she kissed her cheek and closed her eyes, dawn light soft as the sun rose.