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The icy breeze cut across Annie’s cheeks as she stepped down from the bus. Her shoulders instantly rose, trying to better cover her neck and ears from the chill, and she ducked her chin into the wool scarf. Three years was plenty of time to forget the chill of northern winters. It became more difficult by the second not to turn around and climb back on the bus to return to her university in a warmer and much more forgiving climate.
How she managed to live here her entire childhood, Annie wasn’t entirely sure. Sure, the dim glow of Christmas lights and soft blankets of snow were beautiful, but it came at the cost of shorter days and potential frostbite every time she stepped outside. Maybe that second sweater wasn’t such a bad idea after all. She regretted not packing it.
The bus door unfolded, echoed by the loud squeaks and puffs as the vehicle pulled away from the small town bus stop. The blond set her duffel on the wooden bench under the awning and pulled out her phone. It was barely 4pm and already turning dark. She imagined it wouldn’t be long before the wreath-covered street lamps illuminated the few main roads that circled through her hometown.
Annie sat beside her bag, roughly rubbing her hands together before blowing into them. A few stray hairs caught the wind, sticking to her chapped lips and drippy nose.
Three years away was enough to forget.
“Annie-girl, is that you?”
The woman jumped from her seat and turned toward the voice. Through the dirty glass of the bus stop Annie could make out Mr. Leonhardt’s prominent limp and worn out flat cap. Her father looked the same as the last time they met - only a few months back when he visited her campus apartment - with maybe a few more subtle wrinkles on his olive skin.
“Hey, Dad,” she said, standing to meet him with a hug. His arms circled her in a warm, tight embrace. Her nose was overwhelmed with the smell of tobacco, likely lingering on his coat from smoking his pipe. While she didn’t particularly agree with his habit or enjoy the smell, it did bring a sense of home .
“Was your ride okay?” he asked, shuffling her off to one side as he reached for her bag. “The truck’s this way.”
She followed beside him, keeping the pace as they shuffled the short sidewalk to the tiny parking lot. “I slept for most of it,” Annie admitted. “But it was comfortable enough. Just long.”
Mr. Leonhardt laughed. “Well, that’s what happens when you move to the other side of the country - longer rides home.” He unlatched the cab cover and tossed her duffel in before directing her to the passenger seat.
The old pickup was just as beat up as she remembered, Rusty, ugly, and still very loud, she noted as he started the engine and she yanked the door open. It stuck for a moment, then nearly sent her flying into a snow bank as it swung without warning. “I’m surprised this thing still runs,” she huffed, climbing up into the bench seat. It was still warm inside the cab.
“I have to pay for your tuition somehow,” he joked. “A new car won’t help with that.”
Annie rolled her eyes, but accepted his answer. More than likely he just couldn’t part with the hunk of junk, the sentimental old man that he was. “Lucky for you I’ll be graduating early then.”
He chuckled. “It really is.”
The truck jumped a bit as they drove over ice chunks in the lot, before pulling onto the smoother - and thereby, slipperier - road. Sheena consisted of one main street, a straight road with small shops and restaurants on either side leading toward the town hall and a city park. In the summer, the town was full of greens and flowers. Now, all the buildings were cloaked in a pillow of too-white snow and trimmed with foot-long icicles. The lake at the far end of the park was likely frozen over, fisherman and ice skaters fighting over the limited space. Surely there were families using the many hills for sledding by now as well.
She smiled, remembering learning how to snowboard on those hills with her dad. Or playing hockey on the lake with her friends. Back when winters were fun and not a very cold chore to endure.
“So,” Mr. Leonhardt started, his breath creating a slight fog on the windshield, “you came home just in time for the Winter Festival.”
They eased along Main Street, Annie eyeing the shop windows. “And?”
Her father cleared his throat. “ And you should go.”
The Winter Festival was far from a festival and more like a casual winter prom for families held by the high school student council. Children of all ages and parents would flock to the armory - an old, mostly useless building a few streets from City Hall - to play games, dance, and mingle. It was fun as a child, but she couldn’t imagine having a good time now.
She huffed, closing her eyes. “Are you going?” she asked, her lids lifting so she could peer at him. It would be awkward enough, showing up in town after years to attend the party, only for there to be no one she knew there. And breaking the ice with old acquaintances might be much simpler if he came along.
“My office is having our Christmas dinner that night… but I could drop you off on the way?”
Great , she thinks. I get to go alone.
“I don’t know, Dad. What if I walk in and don’t know anyone?”
He chuckled a bit at her insecurity. “Annie, plenty of your classmates never left Sheena. You will likely know everybody .”
“Yeah, but then I’m going to get jumped with lots of questions about where I’ve been and why I haven’t come home and…” she trailed off, anxiety clouding her brain.
“Well, you really have been gone for a while, honey.,” he murmured with a sigh, looking over at her. “Maybe it will be good for you to meet up with some of your old friends. You don’t really mention anyone at school.”
“I have friends, Dad,” she mutters, crossing her arms. “I just try not to get too distracted, especially because I’m so close to graduating.”
Mr. Leonhardt gave her a look, but turned back to the road. “You still need some social interaction. And I have yet to hear about a special boy - or girl - in your life. I don’t want you to end up alone.”
Like me. The implication hung in the air like one of those icicles. Ready to crash down.
It wasn’t that Annie didn’t want a partner or that she was really that opposed to being social. Life just hadn’t really thrown the right person her way and the idea of meeting up with past friends was a bit daunting. There was always the fear of expectations. How they would see her, the choices she’s made, the isolation from her home - and them.
What if they resented her for leaving and not staying in contact?
What if they didn’t remember her at all?
“I won’t end up alone,” Annie tells him, trying to push aside her nerves. “When I do end up dating someone,” she quips, nudging his shoulder gently, “you’ll be the first to know, okay?”
Her dad laughs. “Wouldn’t it be great if they were someone here?” he mused, “I’d love to have you around more.”
Annie smiled, not willing to answer him. There was only one person she could think of - a crush from years ago - and he likely moved on with his life once college started as well. A blond boy with too long hair, the most perfect blue eyes, and his nose in a book. He had to be succeeding somewhere else in the world than their small town.
Their home was a five minute drive from Main Street. As expected, houses were lit in colorful holiday lights. The homes became more sparse as they gained distance from downtown, but the light shows continued, reflecting off piles of snow in each of the yards.
The familiar farmhouse came into view in no time, still as quaint and homey as she remembered. It seemed smaller to her, at least compared to when she was a child - when it felt like a castle. She noted the Christmas tree in the front window, covered in white and blue lights.
“You got the tree up already?” she asked, a little jealous that he hadn’t waited until she was home.
“Yeah, I wanted it to be ready to decorate once you got here,” he admitted, shutting off the engine.
“Oh.” Her irritation melted and a smile formed on her lips. He had it set up for her.
Annie slid from the cab, her feet catching a patch of ice. She managed to grab the door, righting her legs and letting out a huff, the smile now gone. Trees and lights? Perfect. Slipping on ice? Hateful.
“I’ve got your bag. Why don’t you go in and warm up?” her dad called as he made his way to the back of the truck.
She didn’t need to be told twice, penguin-waddling her way up the path to the front door, careful to never let her feet lift above the ice.
This time, no slipping.
The next evening, she unfortunately relented to the Winter Festival. Annie should have known from the moment he mentioned it in the car the previous day that there would be no escaping his plan for her to reintroduce herself to the community.
Annie dressed in a gray sweater dress with black leggings and her most comfortable pair of boots. To make it “festive” she draped a red scarf around her neck and turned toward her mirror. Twenty-one year old Annie really didn’t look so different from the eighteen year old version, she noted, loosening the scarf.
Maybe that was a good thing. People would recognize her.
“I should be done by 11,” her dad mentioned as he drove them downtown. “Call me if you need me to come by sooner.”
“I’ll get an Uber or something, Dad,” she replied. “Don’t worry about coming to get me.”
Pulling up to the curb, Mr. Leonhardt gave her a quick smile. “It’ll be fine, Annie. Have some fun tonight.”
With that, she wished him the same and jumped down from the truck, turning to wave as he pulled back onto the road. With a large groan, Annie straightened her shoulders and wrapped her arms a bit more securely around herself to fight the cool air.
She started the short walk towards the building, carefully climbing the stairs while avoiding ice patches. The armory loomed over the few buildings next to it, somehow still dark and daunting even with the bright string lights draping from its rooftop. Annie closed her eyes, mentally preparing for the social onslaught she would surely experience in the coming hours, and she took the last few steps toward the doors.
Christmas tunes echoed through the hallways, the sound and lights getting more extravagant as she neared the main room. It resembled a gymnasium, high ceilings and bleachers on either side of the wooden floor. There were decorated trees and wreaths displayed throughout the space, and those silly lighted reindeer figures. On the farthest end of the room, the small stage was just as adorned for the festivities. She instantly made out a petite figure on the stage.
Pieck Finger.
Annie and Pieck were part of the same friend group throughout most of school. Though really that could be said of any of the people she went to school with - the student population was incredibly tiny compared to most. Pieck looked stunning, her long, black hair braided neatly over her shoulder, bits of tinsel tied in the strands. She was also wearing the most gaudy holiday sweater that Annie had ever seen.
Scattered throughout the room, she began to recognize more and more faces. Hitch Dreyse and her on-again-off-again boyfriend Marlowe Freudenberg teetered around the refreshment table, half way into an argument that would surely end with very intense make-up sex later that night. Reiner Braun and Bertholdt Hoover smiled and awkwardly sipped their drinks, still unwilling to admit their feelings even now.
Eren Yeager’s laugh echoed, drawing her attention to yet another circle of high school classmates. His arm was wrapped securely around Mikasa Ackerman’s waist, the two of them with their backs to her, talking to a third, shorter individual that Annie couldn’t completely see yet.
“Hey, Annie!” Pieck called to her from the stage, waving her arms and jumping - completely forgetting the microphone very close to her face. “Guys, look! Annie Leonhardt is back in Sheena! Holy shit!” She instantly covered her mouth, miming “sorry” to the crowd of annoyed parents, surely glaring and mouthing how “this is a family event.”
Annie wanted to curl into a ball and roll away. So much for introductions on her own terms. She gave an awkward wave, her smile disingenuous and uncooperative. Her fingers knotted into the fabric of her dress as she murmured a “hi” to the room, likely too quiet for any of them to really hear.
“Annie!” A shrill voice cheered, its owner clinging onto her neck from behind. “Girl, where have you been? It’s been so long.”
Ah. Hitch. Her number one fan and tormentor. Annie shoved the girl off her shoulders gently before turning. “Hey, Hitch,” she reluctantly greeted. “How have you been?”
“Girl, how have I been? What about you?” Hitch released her shoulders and stepped into Annie’s view. “You just disappeared off the face of the Earth!”
She cringed, playing with the ends of her sleeve and trying to play off the accusation. “Yeah, sorry. School was going well… and I got an internship for the summer… I just haven’t been able to make it back until now.” Insert the awkward laugh.
“Sounds like you’ve been having a better time than me,” Hitch whined, staring daggers at Marlowe who had moved onto another group to socialize. “I’m starting to think I should have gone to a bigger school.”
Annie breathed a silent laugh at Hitch’s pout. Some things hadn’t changed. “You and Marlowe still together?” she asked, diverting the conversation from school.
“Yes - and no. He’s been so busy with training that we haven’t seen much of each other in a few months. I was expecting a ring by now - which I have told him! But his head’s so hard you could use it as a bowling ball.” Hitch rolled her eyes. “It doesn’t help that his dad is still pissed he went into the military and refused to take over the tire shop.”
Annie nodded. “Good for him, though,” she affirmed. “Making a choice for himself.”
Hitch groaned. “You’re no help.”
At that, she laughed. “Sorry.”
“Enough about me,” Hitch started, giving Annie a wicked side eye, “where’s your plus one to this thing?”
A creeping blush rose to Annie’s cheeks. “I’m not seeing anyone.”
“Ugh, girl, still? Are you still not over him ?”
Annie moved to cover Hitch’s mouth with her hand. “No,” she answered through clenched teeth. “I just haven’t met anyone yet. Why does everyone keep asking me that?!”
Hitch started to laugh. “It’s just an observation, Annie. Relax.” She removed the smaller girl’s hands from her face. “But, if you are interested…he’s here.”
Here?
As in, back in Sheena.
At this party.
“The look on your face is great!” Hitch teased, doubling over. “Girl, are you down that bad?”
“Shut up!”
“I can’t wait to tell Pieck,” her friend continued, wiping a fake tear from her eye. “Or better yet - Mikasa.”
This is why she stayed away for those three years.
Groaning, Annie started to move away from her cackling tormentor. Hitch would catch up to her soon enough. She noted the table with cookies not too far away in the space. As she weaved between new and familiar faces, she began to wonder if this is how it was every year. Like nothing ever changed.
Did he also come to this every December?
What kind of date would he bring?
As the music faded and her thoughts progressed, Annie tripped. She caught herself, luckily, but made an embarrassing squeak anyway. Looking down, several cords stretched across the floor from the many Christmas trees. They really should have put a rug or duct tape over them.
“Careful,” a voice said, drawing her eyes away from the tangle on the floor.
Ocean blue eyes locked with hers, and Annie felt a tingle move through her body. He was handsome, the speaker, with his sandy blond hair and oh so familiar face. Although, Annie was sure she hadn’t seen him before.
Right?
“Annie Leonhardt,” he said, smiling brightly toward her. “Welcome home.”
She did know him.
Armin Arlert.
It had to be.
The greeting was too warm and too genuine for it to be anyone else. She could feel it deep in her chest, heating its way to the surface. No one ever had that effect on her, save for him.
How could she not recognize the kind, quiet nerdy boy from her childhood? It really should have been a dead giveaway. Eren and Mikasa were right behind him, knowing looks in their eyes as they turned to give the blondes privacy. He had been the third person talking in that group earlier, the one she couldn’t see.
And he looked so different . His baby face had matured, cheekbones sharper and chin showing a recent shave. His dirty blond hair styled with an undercut, bangs draping over his dark eyebrows and accentuating his perfectly blue eyes.
He was absolutely adorable.
Annie felt her heart leap, her cheeks warming.
Welcome home , he’d said.
Like he was waiting just for her.
“Long time no see, Arlert,” she said, trying to return his smile, but feeling the after-effects of her clumsiness. Of course he saw her trip.
“I should be saying that to you. You’re the one who hasn’t been home in nearly three years.” He extended his arms out for a hug, and she tentatively leaned into his embrace, not really the hugger. Armin’s body had changed too; he wasn’t nearly as scrawny or soft as in their teenage years. She could feel his toned muscles tightening in the hug, pulling her toward his chest. He was taller too, her forehead nearly level with his lips.
She gulped.
“The timing just hasn’t been right, I guess,” she muttered into his chest as she leaned away from him, instantly missing the warmth. “And I think Dad has had enough of the snowless winters.”
He chuckled. “I don’t blame him. Christmas doesn’t feel right without snow.” Armin looked away from her for a moment. “Would you like to sit?” he asked, directing her toward an empty table covered in a sparkling white cloth and sprinkled with candy canes. “It’s really good to see you.”
His smile was infectious.
The heat rose to her cheeks again. “Same to you. How is school?” she asked as she discreetly rubbed at her face, hoping to disperse the heat.
He fidgeted, hand going to the nape of his neck in an awkward stretch. “Well, I’ve been taking a break for the last year or so. My grandpa had a bad fall last winter, and I’ve been helping to take care of him.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine,” he said, smiling. “He’s doing better, and it’s given me a chance to gain some life experience here.”
“Still,” she replied, concern lacing her voice, “you had a full ride. Doesn’t that bother you? Not being able to get away and do what you planned?”
“Not really. I’ve been pretty happy since being away from school and tests. I get to spend time with my grandfather and my niece. I’ve been working and writing. It’s really not so bad.”
“You have a niece?” Annie couldn’t recall Armin having any siblings.
Armin chuckled again. “Not biologically,” he confirmed, giving her a sly smile. “But I am Uncle Armin to little Leony Yeager.”
Realization hit Annie like a ton of bricks. “Yeager? Like Eren Yeager?”
His chuckle turned to a hearty laugh, his smile now beaming. “Mikasa and Eren did not wait long. In case you didn’t know, she was already pregnant at our high school graduation.”
Mikasa and Eren were parents?
She couldn’t fathom it, having a baby so young. But it wasn’t all that surprising, considering the parents. Eren and Mikasa were the couple in high school. Neighbors to childhood friends to lovers. They were inseparable - with Armin always trailing along, the supportive wingman. It was kind of gross and endearing all the same. Annie turned to look at his two best friends, and she noticed a distinct bump on Mikasa’s middle.
“And that one is due in March,” Armin said, noticing her gaze; now smiling at his friends. “I told them to take it slow, but they never listen to me.”
“Wow,” was all she could manage. It wasn’t unheard of in a small community - marriage and children right out of school. It also helped that Mikasa had a large inheritance from her Azumabito relatives. But Annie had isolated herself from such a straightforward future for the last few years that it still created a sense of shock.
“They’re very happy,” Armin continued as he noticed her discomfort. “It’s not for everyone, but it worked out for them. And I’m happy if they are.” He leaned back in the metal chair, stretching. “Would you like a drink?”
“Sure.”
Armin left the table, making his way toward the refreshment table. Annie relaxed in her seat, leaning onto the table and picking up a piece of candy from the center. The music continued to play in the background, offbeat to the cacophony of voices as people mingled. It was all so calm - even with the crowd.
Nothing like the busy city life she had become accustomed to.
Annie’s eyes drifted to Mikasa and Eren again. This time, she could see the little girl clutching Eren’s hand. Smiles on all their faces.
“Here you go,” Armin said, drawing her attention as he placed a glass with red liquid in front of her. “It’s just a pomegranate punch. Virgin, I promise.” He tilted his own glass, drinking heavily.
“Virgin, you say,” she replied, grinning. “That’s no fun, Armin.”
He spat the drink instantly, spraying the wood floor and some of the white table cloth with red juice. “Annie!” he gasped, coughing and then returning her laughter.
“I couldn’t resist. Sorry.”
They wiped up the mess, giggles intermittently slipping from Annie’s lips.
“You always catch me off guard,” he muttered as he collected their pile of soiled napkins.
“Well, maybe you should try to keep up,” she countered, grinning at him. It was like no time had passed since she last bantered with this boy. It came so naturally. Annie couldn’t remember the last time she had a conversation come so easily with someone.
The music shifted to Sinatra’s ‘Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas’ as they stood from the table to discard the napkins. Smooth and peaceful, the sound encompassed the space, warming it. Couples started to move toward the center of the floor, swaying to the song with arms on shoulders and hands on waists. Some of the teenagers joined in - Annie instantly recognized Reiner’s little cousin, Gabi, with her best friend, Falco.
“If I ask you to dance,” Armin started, staring at her as she watched the others, “you won’t trip, right?”
Annie playfully slapped his arm. “I won’t trip.”
He laughed. “Okay, so would you like to dance?” His face beamed red, like Rudolf’s nose.
And how could she say no?
They eased onto the makeshift dance floor, Armin’s hands just above her hips, her hands delicately draped over his neck. It was clear that neither knew how to dance, but the easy sway of the crowd and the ability to get lost in his eyes made Annie forget the strangeness.
Never in a million years did she think Armin Arlert would ask her to dance. It never happened in school (as much as she wished it had), and she was sure for the longest time that he was afraid of her.
But as the color stained his face and he smiled down at her, she wondered why she hadn’t done something to change that sooner.
“I’m surprised,” she said, looking away from him. Their classmates' eyes lingered on them from around the room. Eren and Mikasa with the most obvious knowing looks.
“Oh?”
“That you want to dance with me.”
He stopped, hands dropping from her sides, one rising to tentatively touch her upper arm. “Why wouldn’t I?” he asked, his head dipping to catch her gaze. Worry seeped across his face, his eyebrows drawn together and lips forming a frown.
“You never have before,” she muttered, trying to draw her eyes away again. That Rudolph red now marked her skin too.
He was quiet, her words floating through the air between them.
“I guess,” he finally whispered, “I just missed you. And it felt like this might be my last chance before you go again.”
Her eyes darted to his, locked on those blues and filled with questions. “You say that like you’ve been wanting to for a long time.”
Armin laughed, looking at her bashfully and rubbing his neck again. “Only for like the last ten years.”
The world stopped around them and Annie’s thoughts ran wild.
The last ten years?
How could that even be possible?
She looked away again, her voice barely a breath. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“You don’t -” he sighed heavily, hand tightening a little on her arm, his other rising to brush her hair behind an ear. “Come with me.”
With a light tug, she followed him away from the dancing crowd and watchful eyes. Armin directed her to a side room where he grabbed his coat.
“Where’s your jacket?” he asked.
“I didn’t bring one,” she said, embarrassed. “My dad dropped me off at the door.”
“Here, wear mine. I want to take you somewhere, but we’ll have to walk.” Armin slung his plaid coat around her shoulders, helping her put her arms in and then placing his hat on her head.
“What about you?” she protested, floppy sleeves dangling passed her fingers as she tried to do the buttons.
“I’ll be fine. I run warm.” He started toward the entrance, Annie trailing slowly behind.
“Should I be worried about going alone with you?” she joked, tensing as the wind shuffled through the open door. Snowflakes danced around them, shiny and light as feathers.
He turned to smile at her. “You can say no.”
She smiled back. “I don’t think I can.”
He was right about the walk. A few blocks down, they stopped in front of a cafe on Main Street. The window was expertly decorated in green and red lights and carefully crafted paper snowflakes. Annie recalled coming here for hot chocolate many times as a child. The old man who owned the business always made it best.
“Armin, it’s closed,” Annie said sadly as she peered at the dark interior through the glass.
“Not for us.” He reached into his right coat pocket, pulling out a set of keys. With a turn of his wrist and a slight push, the wooden door opened with a pleasant ‘ding.’
They stepped into the warm space. Seasonal smells overcame her - sugar and cinnamon and chocolate. “Are we allowed to be in here?” she asked cautiously.
“Seeing as I own this place, I would say yes.” He helped her remove his jacket, slinging it over one of the barstools, and directed her to sit. “We can be here as long as you like.” Armin swung around the counter, draping a white apron around his waist. “How about a hot chocolate while we talk?”
Annie slowly nodded. She watched him prepare a dry mixture and warm some milk, hands moving expertly around the space. “What happened to the old man who used to own this place?” she asked, her eyes still following his every step.
“Grandpa is taking retirement very seriously,” Armin said with a grin.
“That was your grandfather? How did I never know that?” Annie pondered as he set a mug in front of her and started to pour in the hot, chocolatey liquid. “His hot chocolates were my favorite.”
“I hope mine lives up to your expectations.”
Annie cautiously gripped the side of the mug, bringing it to her lips, blowing, then swallowing a small amount of the drink. It was amazingly good, maybe even better than the old man’s.
“Well?” he asked, curious.
“It’s really good. Thank you.” She took a larger sip, then set down the mug. “Is this what you wanted to show me? Chocolate is a very cheeky way to sway me, you know.”
Armin laughed lightly through his nose. “Yes, but not the drink.” Grabbing himself a mug, Armin joined her on the opposite side of the counter. “I actually just wanted somewhere away from everybody. I was really surprised to see you tonight.” He slid into the barstool beside her. “But now that we’re here, I think I’ve lost my nerve.”
“Then I’ll start,” she murmured, giving him a shy smile. “You own this cafe now. Was that part of the ‘life experience’ you mentioned earlier?”
His shoulders relaxed. “Yeah. Eren and I bought out Grandpa a few months ago. He runs the expenses, I manage the shop.”
“That’s very brave of you - letting Eren be in charge of finances.”
Armin’s laugh returned in full. “He’s a surprisingly good business man. But I do double-check everything. We were actually thinking of expanding to another location in Stohess.”
“That’s a very big city. Are you sure you can manage?”
“I like to think I can figure it out.”
They fell into silence, Annie sipping her coco and Armin watching the steam rise from his own mug.
“What did you mean earlier?” she asked quietly. “When you said you had wanted to ask me to dance for the last ten years?” Annie felt her ears heat up. She refused to look at him, choosing to stare into her empty mug instead.
His heavy sigh hung in the air. “You’re really going to make me spell it out, aren’t you?” When she didn’t answer, Armin turned his body to face her. “I have had the most obnoxious crush on you for forever,” he confessed. “I might have even said I was in love with you back in high school.”
Annie listened, her body shifting slightly to face him, eyes now on lap.
“I always thought you were way out of my league all through school, so I never really had the balls to say something. When you moved away for college, I was sure that once you came back, I would finally be brave enough to say something.” He sighed again. “But you never came back.”
Her icy eyes slowly raised to meet him, her mouth still silent.
“When I moved back to help Grandpa with the shop, I thought for sure I could catch you between school breaks. But even then, you never came home. Your dad came in here a lot. He was always talking about how busy you were with classes and how well you were doing. At that point, I was happy that you seemed to be. Even if I missed you.
“Finally, he mentioned you were coming back for Christmas this year, and I had this plan to finally tell you how I felt. But you showed up at the festival and I completely froze up until you nearly knocked over all those decorations.”
Annie smiled, embarrassment covering her face.
“And you looked so beautiful,” he said, returning the awkward smile, “I knew it had to be tonight.” With a deep breath, Armin reached for her hands, holding them lightly across their knees. “Annie, I like you. You don’t have to reciprocate, or even say anything if you don’t want to. But I wanted you to know that dancing with you was a Christmas miracle for me and I would love to dance with you every year.”
Annie didn’t know what to say.
He always had such a way with words (and maybe it was all those books he read over the years). But how would she ever be able to tell him she felt the same way - she had for such a long time - when words were so hard?
So
she
kissed
him.
Armin was still for a mere moment, eyes wide in shock, lips pursed. His brain finally caught up, allowing him to ease into her lips, his eyes falling shut and his mouth turning into a smile. She was so warm and sweet like the hot chocolate she drank. Her fingers adjusted in his hands, tightening as they intertwined on their laps.
With much resistance, Armin pulled away from her, his breath catching in gasps.
Annie smiled at him bashfully, waiting for him to speak again.
“Don’t laugh at me,” he said, trying so hard not to wrap his arms around her and kiss her silly, “but what did you mean by that?”
Maybe it wasn’t so bad - being back home in this small town.
Not so bad if she got to be with him.
“I just wanted to show you something, too,” she hummed.
And then she kissed him again.