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Ymir's weight had started to make Historia's knees buckle. The smaller woman was strong, sure, but the never-ending walk to the barracks after getting piss drunk was nothing short of hellish.
The swift, cool breeze of early autumn had finally made its yearly return to Wall Rose. It was her favorite time of the year — soldiers were allowed extra time to visit their loved ones; however, more often than not, Historia would find her way around the plethora of vendor stands scattered throughout Trost.
The sun had set hours ago. Reiner and Bertholdt disembarked to the distant horizon and Eren and Ymir were preciously retrieved by the scouts.
With a faint thump, Historia placed Ymir's weak body onto the dusty mattress of their assigned bunks. A small cough escaped Ymir's very dry throat.
Historia took a few moments to retrieve some water. She gently guided Ymir's mouth towards the rim of the cup, slightly tilting its edge so the water could roll down her tongue.
After a few thick swallows, Historia sat the cup beside the bed and took ahold of the freckled woman's hand. She stroked her thumb over Ymir's knuckle.
It was obvious how deep in thought she was, eyebrows furrowing and figure stiffening. It took a few seconds for her to realize how quiet she had been before Ymir spoke.
"Something on your mind?" She asked. Her fingers reciprocated the the same massaging motion to Historia's.
Blue eyes thwarted to brown ones, noticing the small blush dusted over her freckles. Despite being exhausted and over-worked half to death, Ymir still knew how to hold her alcohol. Historia could always tell when Ymir wasn't sober; a faint slur to her words or an unusually darker shade of red flushed across her cheeks.
"Ymir, I don't think I've ever felt this way about another person before," Historia uttered, her face stoic in deep contrast to her usual bubbly smile.
Ymir shifted around the mattress, now lying on her side. Her thighs pressed against Historia's back and she could've sworn she felt a shiver run down the blonde's spine. Her head cocked to the side in question.
"What do you mean?" Ymir quizzed, a feeling of dread building up in her chest.
It wasn't unknown that she had an immense amount of feeling towards Historia, however she couldn't put her finger on what to categorize those feelings as. Was it a crush? Was she truly in love with this girl? Before she could finish her thought, Historia opened her mouth again.
"I'm finally speaking my mind. I feel this large weight coming off my chest. It's satisfying. Thank you, Ymir." Historia spoke with sudden confidence, a glint of pride shining in her eyes.
Ymir took a mental step back, trying to force back a smile. Her eyes softened and her chest warmed.
"Krista, live a life you can be proud of."
The memory flashed through her mind, a promise of independence and devotion that they had shared.
"Thats bold of you to say," Ymir humored, her signature toothy smirk finally creeping onto her face.
It was like heaven for Historia, being able to breathe without pleasing someone. She loved each raw moment she shared with Ymir; when she'd run her fingers through the brunette's hair, the subtle blush she'd get when Ymir would tell her how pretty her eyes were under the moonlight — albeit drunk, of course.
Ymir tried her hardest to diminish the growing amount of butterflies in her stomach. This moment, so intimate.
Historia started, moistening her dry lips. The words exited quietly, softer — like only Ymir, and solely her, were granted the opportunity to hear.
"Ymir."
A tense pause.
"I love you."
Ymir halted. Almost all the moisture in her mouth dissipated.
Historia's heart clenched, fearing for an imminent rejection. They'd been friends for so long, felt some sort of attraction to one another — like the magnetic fragments of steel pulling forces together.
The look in Ymir's eyes; she couldn't tell if it was a look of weakness or vulnerability — emotions so intense they appeared to cloud her mind.
Ymir was quiet, too quiet, The silence wasn't to her liking. The eerie stare of the brunette bore through Historia's skull. Those beautiful brown spheres, once so domineering, now so doe-eyed, were beginning to make Historia's skin crawl.
Historia's heart thumped. It seemed her heartbeat had an irregular rhythm by the way her inhales and beats had combined together, creating the hot mess that she was now turning into.
She could feel the slight pace of Ymir's heart start to pick up.
Historia began again, eager to break the silence, "You know, for a second I really thought you wanted to leave with the-"
The freckled woman's mouth opened for her to speak, however, nothing but a hot exhale escaped her lips.
The words were nearly caught in her throat.
"I love you too, Historia."
Ymir's heart picked up. She was well acquainted with her average flirtatious moments with Historia, but she was always joking, right? Was she joking? She couldn't tell. However, this, this was real.
A blush like Ymir had never seen before reddened on Historia's cheeks. The blonde's eyebrows furrowed, and she looked the opposite way.
Ymir flopped onto her back, hoping to calm down after the massive adrenaline rush she had just endured made her nearly pass out.
While silence filled the room, a ringing filled Ymir's ears.
With a leap of faith, and a shaky hand, Ymir placed her palm on Historia's shoulder, attempting to make eye contact with her.
A part of Historia was hesitant to this side of Ymir, so gentle and defenseless; much different than the crude, cold-hearted mess of a woman she was so accustomed with.
Her Ymir was always so complex, she could never tell with her; when she'd let the mask crack, its fissures finally leaking with the warmer demeanor the woman really possessed.
It was known. Always known, never said, however. Through secret glances or the way her fingers slipped so easily betwixt Ymir's. It was almost like they were created simply for the purpose of fitting together like puzzle pieces.
"Kris-Historia," Ymir corrected herself, "can... Can I kiss you?"
Ymir's eyes had a glint of embarrassment run through them. The faint pink blush on her face had morphed into scarlet red.
Without an answer, Historia slowly inched her head towards Ymir's. Her lips parted with a shaky swallow. Their cheeks brushed across each others' as her lips neared the brunette's.
Ymir gravitated towards Historia, her breath mingling with the blonde's. With a gentle exhale, Historia connected their lips.
They closed their eyes in unison, melting into the kiss.
This was unlike any feeling Historia had ever experienced. No boy ever gave her this much of a rush. Those meaningless love letters, confessions, or compliments; nothing could compare to what was happening now.
Their tongues intertwined, building some momentum within the kiss.
Historia shifted her body onto Ymir's, straddling her. She gripped Ymir's wrists and pinned them above her head.
Ymir had never seen this side of Historia, unforgiving and dominant. She liked it.
Their mouths disconnected with a string of saliva in its wake. Historia released her grip on Ymir and slid to the side of her.
She unbuttoned her shirt and discarded it onto the cool wooden floor. She bunched the sheets over their heads and clung to Ymir's back, almost possessively. Ymir tucked her legs up to her chest, allowing Historia more room to spoon her.
Ymir chuckled to herself, "Who would've thought? You and I, in love."
Historia pressed her face into the back of Ymir's neck and spoke hotly.
"I'm surprised you couldn't tell sooner."