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The first thing Annie noticed was how quiet it was. The second thing Annie noticed was how she didn’t mind. Had the power gone out? Turning on her sound machine before bed was a habit; she wouldn’t forget. The third thing Annie noticed, finally opening her eyes, was that this room was not her bedroom. The light was all wrong, a window in front of her face— she turned away. It was sunny. There had been a storm, last night.
Last night...
She sat up slowly, even though memories came back like lightning bolts.
It was funny, how a place so familiar in daylight could become so much more threatening in the dark. How one summer storm had the power to completely unmoor her. Now here she was, sunlight blazing like nothing had happened. The room felt a little chilly, though. She rifled through the sheets as if her bra or hoodie might magically appear. Then a chair in the corner caught her eye. She eased out of bed and tiptoed over, reluctant to make any noise given that she didn't know where the house's occupant was. Grabbing for her hoodie with her fingertips, she flopped back onto the bed and put it on.
Still no bra. But Armin wasn’t around, and she was leaving before he saw her. A souvenir to remember me by.
He’d probably want to return it if he found it; no matter. Dealing with that later was infinitely preferable to seeing him this morning, to talking about... anything.
She found her socks under the bed and her panties in the bathroom. Her sneakers took longer to find; for some reason they were next to the couch, tangled under a blanket.
(She’d been cold. And wet. There had been a storm.)
She hadn’t brought anything with her besides what she wore. Cinching her hoodie close around her head, she strode to the front door. She laid her hand on the knob, took a deep breath, and pulled.
Armin’s startled face greeted her.
Outside was quiet, too.
“Uh, hi.” His smile didn’t get anywhere close to his eyes. “I was getting coffee. I thought you might still be asleep.” He hefted the bag and tray he held, a nervous chuckle escaping. “Do you mind if I...?”
She stepped back and let him pass, staring at her feet. A nippy breeze threatened, so in slow motion, she shut the door.
“Sorry,” he was saying, as her unhelpful feet followed him. “Y-You can still go, if you want to. But at least take your coffee?”
She looked at him while he set the bag down, and the tray, and grabbed his own cup to sip. “Well, you’re back, so...” She shrugged one shoulder. Her voice felt prickly. She sniffled, grabbed the other cup.
“Foiled your daring escape, huh.” There was a tiny glimmer.
She took a long drink, unflinching.
More silence. More drinking. She stared at him, and he stared back, and she'd be damned if she broke first--
“Annie,” he said. “Last night--”
“I shouldn’t have done...” She grimaced, the words sour. “Shouldn’t have put all that on you.” Should’ve controlled myself. Not acted like a scared little kid one minute and so melodramatically desperate the next.
“No! It’s— it’s okay.” He was too close, but she didn’t move. “I’m... glad you came to see me. But I— when we—“ oh great, he was blushing— “I mean, you were in a bad place but we still— s-slept together and— I-I need to check—”
She put a hand on his arm just long enough to stop him. “I did want to. I knew what I was doing.” About that, anyway. He’d asked, a lot, and she’d said yes every time, not always with words. It had still been the most they’d spoken since... well, in a long time. Long enough that her failed (second) disappearing act stuck splinter-like under her skin.
He relaxed. “I was pretty sure. It happened so fast, is all...” His voice trailed into a mumble.
She nodded. Then she looked at him again, instead of at her cup. “I’m still sorry. Showing up out of nowhere, after...” After I abandoned everything. You, and Bert, and Mikasa and Reiner and Eren... “I probably scared the hell out of you,” she said instead. “Pounding on your door in that weather when we hadn’t even—” She pressed her lips tight.
“How did you find me, anyway?”
She coughed a laugh. “I still have Eren’s number.”
“Of course.” He laughed too, but she couldn’t smile even though her chest felt warm. “I bet he was thrilled to hear from you! Did you see him?”
“And Mikasa. I got... back... late.”
“Then the storm?” It wasn’t a question.
Abruptly, she move to the couch and sat down, holding the cup with both hands. She raised her chin at him.
He shook off his surprised expression and joined her, distance comfortable.
“Then the storm.” She leaned back lazily, spinning her cup, while her lungs felt tight and her stomach restless.
“You know...”
Her eyes flicked to him.
He was slightly hunched, palms flat on the top of his cup, staring at his lap. “Earlier, yesterday, I’d been thinking about you. It’s that in-between, summer-fall weather. I remembered you like that. Or, well, you used to...” He gave a short mirthless chuckle. “So when you came here that night... Even though you were upset, I was happy. Happy to see you, happy that it was me you went to... I was almost glad, that you were— because I could help, I could fix you. Annie—” He turned her, eyes blazing, and she wanted to look away— “I didn’t care why you were hurting, only that you came to me when you were. After all this time, that’s what I felt. It’s incredibly selfish of me, and egotistical, and I’m really sorry. It wasn’t right.”
She couldn’t seem to draw enough breath, like her chest had shallowed. So she finished the last of her coffee, still burning warm, plonked the cup to the floor, and turned to him.
“I didn’t care whether you were ready to see me, or even able to help. I just, suddenly..." Her eyes shut, her teeth clenched, she couldn't say it but she couldn't breathe-- "Armin. I needed you. You were why I came back, I missed the others and I missed--" home "Shiganshina but I missed it because of you."
He stared; she held his gaze. "Well," he said finally, slowly, "it seems neither of us are the paragons of virtue we've made ourselves out to be."
"It's not funny," she ground out, glaring.
"Oh, I definitely know that. It's just..." A smile bloomed. "I didn't know what to do, after hearing you. That was the first thing that came to mind."
She watched him set his cup aside, sit up, slide closer to her. Her eyes snapped to his hand on her knee.
“I missed you too,” he said, “and I’m sorry if I did something to make you have to leave.”
She shook her head. “It wasn’t you.” It was. You’re so bright and big and open that it hurt me, I was scared, I didn’t deserve it, I don’t deserve you— "I did want out of here, back then. And then I grew up and realized everything good about here, about all of you..."
"And that you deserve that," he said quietly, hand squeezing.
Her jaw dropped.
He giggled. "S-Sorry, your face..." Then, like a switch had flipped, he was serious. "You do, Annie. You belong here too. I know it took a long time for you to believe that, and maybe you didn't want to. That's okay." He made a noise, closed his mouth. "C-Can I..." It was only a whisper. "Can I hug you?"
His hand hadn't moved. She stared again at it, for too long. Then she raised her head and she leaned in, arms open, and he met her.
This close, she was almost afraid to breathe, afraid that would reveal something even more intimate than she already had. Then Armin sighed, and his hold around her tightened, and she realized it was okay. Her arms slid to his torso; she tucked her face into his neck.
"I missed you," he said again. His voice seemed so different right in her ear (even through the hoodie). "It... it would be nice, if you were thinking about staying for a while. In Shiganshina, n-not just with me."
She exhaled, carefully. "Yeah. I'll be here."
She felt him shiver, just a bit. She drew her arms a little tighter.
"Good. That-- that's good."
"Okay."
This time, the silence that fell was a soft blanket.
Eventually, her back started protesting, coincidentally around the time she felt Armin preparing to move. She pulled back first, slow and careful. One hand stayed on his shoulder. She'd almost forgotten the kind of blue his eyes were. A summer sky, not a stormy ocean like hers. He was smiling again, so they seemed especially bright.
She jumped slightly at his fingers skittering over her wrist. "I, um. I got some donuts, too." He kept his voice low. "With the coffee. You hungry?"
"Not really," she said in the same tone. He got up, so she adjusted the volume. "I'd like a donut, though."
"I'll get you one, then," he said with a laugh. "There's... chocolate, glazed, strawberry frosted..." He pulled out paper plates, piling them with the different flavors, two of each. "Those cream-filled ones-- do you like those? Maybe I'm projecting."
"You're not."
"Excellent. Powdered, and jelly. But I'll take a glazed."
"I thought you'd say that." Chin on her palms, she smiled. "Are you still obsessed with your mocha?"
He looked at her soberly; she held back a snort. "It's a preference, not an obsession."
"Why do I remember that and not anything important?" That wasn't entirely true; less frivolous things were nudging the back of her mind, waiting to be recalled. On this sunny morning, they'd have to wait.
"Food preferences are important."He sat next to her again, plates in hand. A shrug. "Food's... important."
She took the napkins he held out, and the plate.
"Besides," he continued, taking a bite of glazed, "there'll be time for other stuff to come back to you. Lots of stuff."
She turned her gaze to her plate. "Probably. I have some catching up to do." She picked up the donut, her free hand finding his thigh; the taste was as good as always, and her palm was tingling warm.
They shared a smile.
Outside had turned gray, but Annie had a feeling the sun would return. With sticky fingers, she pulled off her hood. "I've got a room at Mikasa's," she said through another bite, "but I thought I'd... stay here, tonight."
She managed not to laugh at how fast he blushed.
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And as long as
you're just as lost as I
I'll hold you in the morning
like we're the lucky ones
~"Lucky Ones" by LIGHTS