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It was a throwaway class, an 'easy A', a lecture Ymir had next to no interest in actually attending on a regular basis. She almost skipped the first day, purely on the basis of a long night beforehand and donuts in the cafe sounding like a better option. But she dragged herself to class, and she was more than rewarded for it.
It was a cute blonde girl, sitting in the row just in front of hers, who smelled like apples and looked like she might actually have glitter in her hair. After the initial reaction of 'dear god, she's hot', Ymir quickly learned that she was also dripping with sweetness. She was always cheerful, always radiating warmth from behind a megawatt smile, and a fair share of it spilled over onto Ymir when they were sitting in class. It was hard to dread coming to class when she knew she'd be seated so close to an actual angel. An angel, apparently named Krista.
It was a partners project, in a course where Ymir hadn't taken the time to get to know anyone, because she knew they wouldn't want to waste their time befriending her either. Pretty Krista should've had her choice of partners, but when the class had mostly settled back into their seats in pairs, she stood alone at the back, smiling like she was waiting. Ymir had never been one much for luck, or fate, or any of that bullshit - but someone, somewhere was looking out for her that day. She tried not to grin too widely as she plopped down in the empty seat beside Krista.
It was a weekly meeting in the back corner of the campus library to study, Krista's quiet laughter and brilliant smile, and the feeling that one tiny little person could make everyone else a little less undesirable just by force of proximity. She was so friendly, so warm that Ymir couldn't be sure if she was flirting, or just making conversation. Kista was such a damned Barbie doll; Ymir constantly reminded herself that she probably wasn't into girls anyway, let alone a girl like her. Krista was probably just that affectionate to everyone. And straight girls normally complimented each other's hair, the way their perfume smelled, the way their pants fit that day - right? Ymir genuinely didn't know. Still, even if it was entirely platonic, Krista's attention left Ymir hungry for more.
It was the end of a quick-moving semester, the knowledge that she wouldn't be seeing the person that she suddenly realized had become her favorite. Ymir had learned very young not to get attached to people, not to fall for anyone if she could help it. Falling led to scrapes and bruises that no one was around to tend to. But Krista made her forget herself, forget everything except how happy she felt when the bubbly little blonde was around, and the last thing Ymir wanted was to let that slip away.
It was a fumbling request, a barely audible question and the painfully silent moment between exhaling words and waiting for a response. She asked Krista on a date, in the most certain, undeniable, 'I don't mean just as friends' way. Getting turned down was something she was prepared for; having a phone number and a smattering of hearts scribbled onto her hand in pink ink was a more than pleasant surprise.
It was every little moment that led up to the night when Krista tapped on Ymir's door, waiting on the landing outside with her dazzling smile fixed in place. It was every memory of how unlikely a pair they were, and how Ymir had somehow landed a date - a chance - with her, anyway. And it was the anxiety that she was going to do something wrong and blow it completely. That's why Ymir almost canceled, almost bailed despite everything. But when she answered the door and Krista smiled back at her, her sugary sweet presence sweeping past Ymir on the wind that ruffled her hair, Ymir thanked every star beginning to shine in the sky that she hadn't.
Krista's initial suggestion of dancing for a first date was one that she quickly withdrew, when she saw the way it made Ymir flinch. They settled instead on dinner and drinks, and Krista ordered the latter like she'd been doing it all her life. Ymir wasn't even sure Krista was old enough to be drinking, but the waiter didn't card either of them, and was too busy scribbling his phone number on their receipt to even bother charging them correctly for their food. Krista was living, breathing magic, spellbinding to even come in contact with, much less spend an entire evening alongside. And she had the cutest laugh.
That was probably Ymir's favorite feature. Sure, Krista had sparkling eyes, that could look right through to your soul. She had a smile that could light you on fire with its warmth, and have you thanking her for it. But that laugh. Ymir knew she was doomed the moment she heard it, wrapped almost instantly around those pretty little manicured fingers. But what's more, Ymir was the one making her laugh - and Krista beamed, like she'd been needing it for the longest time.
Ymir prided herself on how well she managed to keep her composure, staying comfortably hidden behind her cool facade so that Krista couldn't peer over the tops of her walls. But something about the way Krista's hand fit in hers as they traipsed down the sidewalk that wound around the outskirts of campus that let Ymir know those walls were on shaky ground. She'd never felt so ready to open her door to anyone, but Krista brought her glow with her inside.
As it turns out, Krista was the type of girl to rope you into lettering her spend the night after the first date, and Ymir was the kind of girl who definitely wasn't saying no. And when Krista asked if it was okay to call her again the next day, to 'do this again sometime', to call Ymir her girlfriend, Ymir couldn't remember that the word no even existed.
Things after that moved fast.
It was an odd match, people whispered at first. But those people didn't know Krista like Ymir did, no matter how long they'd been acquainted. Krista was so much more than the sweetness she so readily shared with the world, and her many facets brought an openness out of Ymir that no one else cared to. Krista could be difficult, dramatic, drastic in her actions and reactions, and Ymir could more than match her in moodiness. But they knew each other, understood each other, and liked each other anyway.
It wasn't always perfect, but it was real. It was theirs. And it didn't need to make sense to anyone else. It needed no explanation.
It just was.