Chapter Text
Historia was the typical guardian angel.
Just like the name suggests, Historia was an angel. A guardian angel. And she was damn good at her job, if she did say so herself.
She's been alive for….. About 357 years. She's watched humanity progress, been the guardian of many people, important and more common, and even fallen in love a few times….. She's had a busy life. And while it sometimes is very stressful and chaotic, she likes her job. She likes protecting those she was assigned to from birth until it was their time to pass, and she liked watching them grow up and develop as people. While she did get bad people to watch over, she at least got to be one person who understood why they turned that way. That didn't excuse their actions, but at least provided answers. There's also been the amazing people; people who made a name for themselves, or became a known name for being incredible in some way. She's watched kids grow into influential people, from those in the medical field to motivational speakers to even more. She's seen a lot; from great to not so great.
And then Ymir came along.
Ymir wasn't a bad person. She just gave off the vibe that made people drift away. That isn't to say she's a little bit of an asshole. And it wasn't really like Ymir cared. She still had friends either way, people to lean on when she needed it and people to have a beer with sometimes. Ymir wasn't really a good person either. That isn't to say she had oppressive viewpoints that negatively affected people. But she wasn't the most selfless but she wasn't selfish either. She just… floated somewhere in the middle. A neutral person who had no clear, definitive future. She could end up so much worse or end up so much better. Or stay forever in the gray area, not so good and not so bad. Most people were like that, actually.
That wasn't the issue Historia had with Ymir. Oh hell no. She'd give anything to be assigned to more people just like Ymir forever and ever until she died herself. They were easiest to manage, and made watching over them interesting. With forever great people and forever bad people, they never really changed. The situations did; they did not. However, what was the real issue was that Ymir…. Uhm…
Ymir attracted death like a goddamn magnet. Historia swears to all things holy that Ymir purposely tries to get killed every day of her life but doesn't know it. She's a distracted and somewhat careless driver, though thankfully careful enough not to run over people or animals. She checks her phone too often to be legal, but at least she doesn't drink and drive. She doesn't look both ways when crossing the street, takes quite possibly the most dangerous routes possible to follow when walking around town, and never had her eyes up observing her surroundings. Her nature of not really paying attention when she didn't want to was something she grew up having. She didn't learn the habit from anyone else. It was like it was programmed into her.
And it drives Historia up the wall sometimes.
Historia has to keep a closer eye on Ymir whenever she steps outside her apartment. In her past assignments, she'd monitor her human and drift off whenever she felt she wasn't needed. She'd get a twisting feeling in her gut if she was, so it wasn't an issue if she strayed away and got a donut or something. Usually, not everyone was constantly stepping into situations with death as the outcome.
But with Ymir, she couldn't leave the damn girl for 2 seconds because if she did, she'd feel like she was ready to shit herself. Constantly. It wasn't that much of a problem. I mean, it wasn't really boring watching Ymir when you're watching out to see if she'll fall into a sewer or something. It was just annoying as hell sometimes. Historia needed some alone time just like these silly humans do.
She had to admit, though, that this assignment was the most fun one she's had in a while. No one else got her so worked up, tired, or surprised with how many ways a human could die. There's a first for everything, even for a 357 year old guardian angel.
Historia sighed as she walked a few feet behind Ymir, who was busy doing.. Whatever the hell she did on her phone. Ymir certainly was a nice change of pace from her usual easy life of only occasionally doing her actual job. She never realized until now how much free time she previously spent eating donuts and petting cats. It made her realize that over the years, she's gotten quite lazy with her assignments. She never failed, though, so it's not that bad… at least, that's what she tells herself.
It felt like a normal day. Following behind Ymir, watching her with slight interest as they walked along some weird street she'd never seen before. Historia could faintly hear Ymir's music through her earphones. She always played her music so loud that it was slightly concerning. But this was all usual stuff that Historia was accustomed to. The obscene streets, faintly hearing Ymir's music, (it sounded like… some weird mix of classical and modern rock) and casually manipulating things so Ymir wouldn't die while tapping away at some game. Historia hoped Ymir wouldn't go deaf from the loudness of her music, as it would totally make her job even harder than it was. Helping Ymir out while she blocked the outside world while walking around was tedious enough. It'd suck to do it everywhere Ymir went.
The same routine, the same cycle that Historia could oddly call her own… yet it wasn't. She wasn't Ymir, or part of her life. She was as inside Ymir's life as a stranger was. But she knew more about Ymir than a stranger, but Ymir didn't know her. Whatever label it was, it was not Historia's and Ymir's life. It was just Ymir's life and Historia tagged along.
Until it did become her life.
Officially.
Ymir didn't look when she crossed the road, as per usual. And as per usual, Historia didn't pay too much attention to this fact. She's grown so used to it after 22 years that it barely required any of her focus. As careless as Ymir was, she seemingly always happened to cross at the right time to avoid any danger. But something… felt a bit off this time. She didn't have time to dwell on it much until she heard the sounds of some sort of vehicle coming, and coming fast. Her eyes widened and she gained a heightened sense of awareness. Her stomach twisted and turned painfully, stronger than it really ever had before. Time slowed down by a few seconds, but enough for her to try and figure out a solution. 22 years with Ymir was much too short, and she didn't want to accidentally have Ymir's life end before it was supposed to. Historia's eyes locked onto the car that was speeding way too fast down the road, even in this slowed down state of time, and then to Ymir, who was walking way too slow to get away safely without Historia intervening. Her powers had a limit. She couldn't just fling the vehicle away from Ymir or move it enough to protect Ymir fully. She could only nudge things a few inches, her powers more like a wind and not a stronger force. Her thoughts moved quick, her eyes flicking between the vehicle, the crosswalk, the people around them, the stores, the trees, Ymir…
Gradually, all the puzzle pieces finally fell into place and she saw the big picture. Time started to speed up, back to it's original pace. Things clicked into place together in Historia's head and she…
She pushed Ymir.
Historia was a small girl. She wasn't the strongest, but not the weakest. Her abilities aided in pushing Ymir far enough away to probably just get a scratch or a bruise, leaving all the damage onto Historia. Ymir was safe, and that's all that mattered to her.
Another one of Historia's limits was being able to survive a collision with a car unscathed.
Ymir had never been to a hospital before.
Her family was a rather healthy one, a typical healthy family, really. Checkups were rare after Ymir went through puberty, and minor colds and allergies could be fixed with some random brand of medication from the local grocer. Ymir's never been to a hospital and didn't think she would until later in life, when her mother and father slowly grew brittle and weaker, and when relatives grew old and perished away in some way or another.
She didn't think she'd be here because of a stranger who saved her life.
It was awkward buying the flowers for this chick, it was awkward getting into the hospital after running in the rain with a big bouquet of flowers in hand, it was awkward trying to find the room she was in and it was awkward finally being there.
The drenched flowers hung heavily and oh-so-depressingly on the side table next to the stark white bed occupied by the most angelic looking girl. Her eyes were closed, her mouth parted open slightly and head lolled to the side. Even with a band-aid pasted across her nose, a bandage on her cheek, and her skin a sickly yellow color, she looked too perfect, too beautiful, almost like a doll. Ymir could see her small chest rising and falling, slowly, steadily. She didn't know why she was here. She didn't have to buy the flowers. Run in the rain. Find her room. Visit her here and wait for her to wake. She felt guilty, though. Saying at least a thank you would alleviate the heavy feeling on her shoulders. This girl sacrificed herself, her life, everything she had to save Ymir. Ymir didn't want to look back on this memory and remember this girl as a stranger. She at least wanted a name to put to the face. But even so, her gut twisted and turned in nervousness, mixing with the sterile smell of the hospital, and she wanted to leave so, so bad.
Something made her stay though. Something kept her rooted to her seat, staring at the clock, staring at the girl in the bed, staring as she took a breath in and took a breath out, staring at the heart monitor she was hooked to. She felt as if there was more to why this stranger did this, why she would risk her life for Ymir's. Something mixed in with her guilt that Ymir couldn't pick out. Perhaps the feeling was just the light sickness she felt being in the hospital. She pushed the thoughts aside, dismissing it as just that. The too clean scent of the hospital.
Time ticked away slowly but much too quick as well. Ymir lost count how many times she looked at the clock on the wall, and soon forgot what time it was despite staring at the time ticking away. Silence blanketed the room and Ymir's hands curled up. She contemplated, very heavily, on leaving the room repeatedly. Leaving the hospital. Just leaving some note that said thanks and putting this all behind her.
Then the hospital door opened. Too abruptly to be a nurse or doctor; they would've knocked at first. The person walked in, foot steps light on white tile floors but sounded too loud in the silence of the room.
Ymir's head had snapped to the source of the noise, waiting for them to show themselves.
A tall, freckled, and drenched guy walked in. His brown hair was sticking and dripping wet, and he had a smile of absolute relief on his face. He dragged a hand down his face.
"Thank God…" Ymir could hear him breath out as he focused his gaze on the girl in the bed. He closed his eyes for a moment, perhaps thinking something to himself. A prayer, maybe, Ymir thought.
Dark brown eyes then slid to Ymir, and they widened. The two of them stared at each other for a while, Ymir's narrowed eyes blinked as she met his. They were wide and filled with swirling emotions. The relief slowly dissipated from his eyes, instead fading to surprise.
And then he shoved out his hand to Ymir. "Sorry for intruding… I'm Marco, good friend of Historia's." His surprised expression melted away and a smile found its way back onto his face. It was warm, kind, and inviting.
Ymir took his hand with hesitation, and he enthusiastically shook it for a comfortable amount of time before letting go and shoving his hand into his jacket pocket.
"Ymir. I… actually don't know this chick," Marco's eyebrows raised. The surprised expression returned, milder, though.
"Oh? Then why are you…?" He trailed off, eyes flickering from Historia and back to Ymir.
"She uh.. She saved me from getting hit by a car." And then it went silent again. The beeping of the heart monitor went from background noise to the only noise. As if this Marco guy didn't make a big dramatic entrance into the hospital room and break the silence. It was as still as it was before he even walked in.
Ymir noticed that Marco looked like he just realized something. Perhaps it was that he realized that she was the reason Historia was in a hospital right now, or something like, "Did I leave the oven on?". Whatever it was, it was a weird expression.
Marco rubbed his nose with the back of his hand and sniffled. "Listen. Don't get so guilt-ridden over this, yeah? You're not the reason she's in the hospital and… yeah." Marco's eyes focused on Historia, as if he were talking to her. "She chose to save you," He finished, his voice having gotten softer and quieter.
"Ok.…?" Ymir replied, her own eyes looking at Historia. She was stirring around a bit in her bed, probably trying to get more comfortable. Ymir briefly wondered what her injuries were exactly. All she knew what that her face looked a little worse for wear, and one of her arms was wrapped in a splint. Who knows what damage was hiding underneath the blanket, under neat that shitty paper gown she now has to wear? What damage had Ymir done…?
She swallowed down the guilt-ridden thoughts that bubbled up, trying to internalize Marco's words.
Ymir stood, the chair scraping a bit too loudly on the tile floor. Historia stirred again, but it didn't seem like she'd be waking up any time soon.
"I think I should go now so.." She slipped her jacket off from the back of her chair and put it on. "Chair's all yours. If she wakes.." She spared another glance at Historia. "Tell her I said thanks." Her head turned away.
Marco still stood where he was, and he smiled again, bright and cheerful. Ymir could see a few freckles on his cheeks that she didn't notice before. He also had two dimples on either side of his cheeks.
"No problem, Ymir."
Historia awoke with a sharp jolt. It wasn't a jolt of electricity or sudden pain that made her jump awake; it was merely the realization that something was wrong.
Her eyes popped open, now awake, the fog of grogginess the first thing she noticed when she awoke. It made her eyes feel… a weird sort of way, and the rest of her body had that weird feeling too. Like she was greasy and unclean, but knew she really wasn't either. She rarely slept, especially since she was assigned to Ymir; the grogginess was unfamiliar to her.
The second thing she noticed was that she was not within 5 feet of Ymir. Her heart jumped into her throat and her eyes grew wide with panic. Where was Ymir? Did she survive? Her stomach isn't twisting and turning, is Ymir ok? Why was she hearing beeping near by? She looked down. The scratchy paper material of the hospital gown, the canvas bed sheets… an IV in her arm and that heart monitor thing on her finger. Her other arm was in a splint. She was in the hospital. She looked back up and around, quickly. A window was at the left of her, the blinds closed. The lighting was warm but weak in the room. A tv was set up in the left most corner of the room, the black screen reflecting the room disproportionately. She turned her head to the right and saw Marco. She jumped a little, like how her heart jumped just moments ago upon seeing Marco.
His eyes were wide as they always were, warm and brown and reassuring to see. But it wasn't Ymir. Marco must've been able to read her thoughts or comprehend her expression, and he leaned forward and held her right hand, warming up her cold fingers.
"Ymir is fine. She was just here visiting you. She wanted me to tell you she said thanks," He had a light smile gracing his face, oh so warm like the hand grasping hers and the light of the room. Her face relaxed, along with her shoulders and she fell back against the stale pillows of the hospital bed.
"She brought the flowers, too," He added, gesturing to the flowers at the bedside. They still sat droopy in the vase.
"When do I get out of here?" Her voice cracked a little, and was much more airy. Her throat was parched.
Marco's hand left hers to pick up the plastic cup at her bedside. He got up and left to fill it with water, returning once finished and gingerly giving it to her. She took a long, grateful sip.
"I talked to the doctor. He said you can be discharged tomorrow. They're keeping you tonight to monitor you," He leaned back a little in the chair and smiled a bit wider. "He's impressed that the worst injury you have is a broken elbow." Historia cracked a smile of her own, finishing drinking the water and setting it upon the bedside table.
"Ymir's going to start seeing me and noticing me," Historia said, in a tentative and soft whisper. Her voice sounded like a baby chick's feather blowing in a gust of wind. Her eyes grew wide and glassy as she looked at Marco. Her smile faded scarily quick, Marco noticed.
Marco's grin disappeared too. "Historia…"
"Does that mean I have to befriend her or something? I've become a part of my assignments' lives before, but it was willingly… " Her hands curled up into tight fists, gripping onto the rough fabric of the sheets.
"Hey," Marco placed his hand over Historia's. "You'll figure it out. If you two end up friends, it's not the end of the world. It was somewhat of an accident, but it's manageable." The ends of Marco's mouth tilted upwards, reassuringly.
"I just don't want it to end bad," Their eyes met, and Marco sighed softly, rubbing his thumb over the flat backside of Historia's hand, right under her knuckles.
"I have faith it won't. And if it does, it'll make your job a little harder, but it won't be impossible. You've dealt with Ymir for 22 years, and you can deal with her for many more." Historia merely nodded her head in reply, her eyes drifting away from Marco's to look at the blanket covering her lower half.
Marco's hand slid away from hers. "I gotta go now. I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"
"Yeah. See you tomorrow, Marco," He gave a little wave and a smile before heading out the door, taking extra care to close the door as gingerly as he could.
Tomorrow came quickly. After Marco left, a nurse checked up on her quickly, and Historia requested that the blinds should be opened. Once the nurse left, Historia looked outside the window, up at the twinkling stars in the sky. Eventually, her eyes grew heavier and heavier and the sound of beeps emitting from the heart monitor lulled her back to sleep.
What awoke her the next morning was the urge to pee and the warmth and brightness streaming in from the window. Normally, angels don't really need to do human things like eat, but it doesn't kill them if they do. They would just end up digesting the food and having to expel of it somehow. And that's exactly what was happening now.
Against Historia's better judgement, she decided to take herself to the bathroom. She cautiously wiggled herself from the confines of the hospital sheets and shuddered at the coldness of the room and the cold tile against her bare feet. Making sure to take her IV with her, she walked slowly and cautiously to the bathroom.
It took her some time to finish her business in there, as she was afraid of moving to fast and pulling out the IV, as the needle did freak her out. Never in her 357 year life did she have to have something stabbed in her, so needless to say, it was not something she enjoyed having to experience. She shuffled slowly back to the bed and with a bit of difficulty climbed back in. It was hard doing so, considering one arm was in a splint, the other having a needle stuck into and plus, she was a bit too short for this to be easy. She managed, however, and triumphantly laid back in bed, regaining warmth in her cold little toes.
Later, a nurse and doctor came in. The nurse gave her breakfast, which was the blandest and worst meal she had ever eaten, and the doctor talked to her about her injuries and that she was free to be dismissed from the hospital at any time, granted she inform a nurse and have someone accompany her. She was also instructed to come back to get a cast for her broken arm within four weeks. She took all of this in with mild interest, only wanting to return back to her life watching over Ymir. She was anxious to see how it would be, now that Ymir knows she exists and can see her.
Normally, guardian angels are invisible to humans. Unless they interact with humans purposefully and directly, either by talking or physical touch, they are otherwise invisible. When a guardian angel interacts with their assigned human, their human can see them forever from then on, until they pass away. Basically, their guardian angels become another stranger in the human's lives. In some cases, it's difficult to stay invisible to one's human, as things merely happen that are avoidable, just like in Historia's case. Usually, however, it's easy to avoid.
The doctor and nurse leave Historia alone, and she is left to eat her fruit cup and drink her water in silence. An hour later, Historia manages to figure out the tv's controls and turn on the tv. However, the extent of her discovery only goes so far as to turning on and turning off the tv. She has no idea how to change the channel, so she's stuck watching the news. She's only seen humans use it, and never really cared for what exactly each of the buttons did. It was fine, though. This channel was interesting to watch, and she was merely proud of the fact that she figured out how to use the remote in the first place.
Once her fruit cup was long finished, the rest of her food barely touched at and her cup of water all gone, she merely watched the tv for a little while. She didn’t know how long exactly, but it was a bit later after she started watching that a soft knock was at her door. She turned her head to the door, and watched as it opened and in came Marco.
"Talked to the doctor again," He said as he came into Historia's view. Behind him trailed a nurse, pushing along an empty wheelchair. "I'll take you home," He continued, and Historia smiled.
Then, Historia was checked for her vitals and condition one last time before she was unhooked from the heart monitor and IV drip. Possibly the worst feeling in the world was having the IV taken out of her, and she just hoped very much that she'd never go to a hospital again after that experience. Next she got a change of clothes from Marco, and she never felt more happy to feel cotton on her skin instead of that shitty scratchy paper gown. Then, she was helped to cautiously settle into the wheelchair and then she was wheeled through the hospital corridors, down a floor on the elevator and out the exit. Marco left quickly to get his car, and after getting Historia safely inside, she and Marco drove off.
Historia was grateful for Marco. He was a fellow angel, who knew the same struggles as her. He was around the same age as her, 358, actually, so they saw the rise and fall of many civilizations and people as well. Not only that, but the two of them grew close as time progressed. Now, Marco was a stable shoulder to lean on. He was slightly different from Historia, however. He invested his time this cycle around to try and live a "human" life. He didn't live alongside the humans (yes, he had to watch over not one but two people. Historia wishes she never has to do that) he has to watch over, but he lived his life with a close enough connection to them. He had his own studio apartment, his own car, and a cute little dog and cat to keep him company. He even managed to have a job, too, though it was one as an editor for authors and such and mostly worked online.
It seemed like a nice life, now that Historia thought about it. Though, a lot of work. Historia was content with jumping around places to stay and doing random things each day. She usually stuck to Marco when she had some down time, but most of her time was dedicated and revolved around Ymir. She didn't have a lot of freedom to live like a human for a few decades like Marco.
"I'm assuming you want to crash at my place, right?" Marco said after a while on the road. Seems like the hospital was a bit ways away from where Marco lived.
"That'd be nice, yeah. I want to see your cat again," Historia replied, her eyes watching the scenery as it passed by quickly with half-lidded and lazy eyes. Her head was propped up on her good arm, her chin in the palm of her hand. Right now, she'd love to have some time with a cute little cat, some episodes of Too Cute! and some donuts, if Marco had any. And, she simply hoped, that there would be no twisting constipation-like pain in her stomach tonight, thanks to Ymir's death-luring antics. So far, things were good. It was only a matter of if things would stay like this.
Ymir was going to visit Historia again.
She didn't have as much nervousness this time around, but she was still uneasy. She hadn't talked to Historia yesterday when she first visited, and although that Marco dude probably did as she asked, she'd feel probably so much better and less guilt-ridden if she said it herself to her.
The weather was better than yesterday. No rain, but grey clouds and skies still blocked the sun away. It felt damp, despite no rain drops falling, and it made Ymir's shirt cling a little to her skin and made her feel kinda.. Gross. Regardless, she was just glad it wasn't raining.
She took a trip to the flower shop again. Those droopy depressing and clearly dead flowers … were the worst. She felt guilty about that, too. So, after careful deliberation and constantly checking flower meanings (in case she accidentally got her flowers that meant "get well never" or something) she finally settled on a basic bouquet. Pink carnations. A safe meaning, and they were pretty. Plus, if she booked it and ran, she probably wouldn't get caught in the rain again.
Careful to not run over wet patches of black top or side walk, she jogged her way to the hospital. She gradually felt more and more at ease about going to visit Historia again. She had hope that she'd be awake this time and they could exchange a few words, Ymir saying thanks, and then that would be it. Ymir would go back to her life, albeit being a bit more cautious of everything she did, and Historia would go back to hers.
She entered through the main entrance, and went right up to the reception desk. She told the lady there which room Historia was in, as she had forgotten. And it was then that Ymir felt as if she shit her pants, but with full confidence that she didn't at the same exact time.
"Historia checked out a few hours ago. Sorry," The woman said, causing Ymir's stomach to feel like it dropped out her ass and was now sagging in her pants. Well, this was great. She barely knew Historia, so it wasn't like she had her phone number and could call her up to tell her she got her flowers and wanted to say thanks. She didn't even know her last name, her eye color, or what her voice sounded like. Ymir sighed heavily, and leaned over the counter of the reception, pressing her forehead into the cool surface.
"….She left with a friend of her's. His number is here as an emergency contact.. Would you like me to give you the number…?" The receptionist said, a little meekly, as if scared of offering help to her. Though, when you work with the general public, her fear was understandable. Ymir lifted her head up, and looked at the receptionist, making direct eye contact with her.
And that was how Ymir managed to get Marco's number. And how she had to awkwardly talk to him once more. She punched in the number she received into her phone's screen, and called. After a few rings, Marco, or at least, someone, picked up the call.
"Hello, Marco speaking," The familiar voice from yesterday said, just about as warm and chipper as Ymir remembered it being.
"It's Ymir. From yesterday," Ymir replied. Before Marco could voice any questions about why she was calling, how she got his number and yada yada yada, Ymir continued on.
"I came to visit Historia.. To thank her myself and give her some nicer flowers. Receptionist told me she left with you so.. If you know Historia's address or something--"
"Oh, Historia's right here with me, actually. Why don't you stop by?" Marco replied.
"Stop by? You just give the phone to Historia--"
"But you said you got her flowers, though, right? So just stop by and give the flowers and your thanks. Two birds, one stone."
Ymir didn't really want to meet up with Marco again, as his rather cheery nature was something she was kinda unused to. She usually was surrounded by assholes who insult you in good fun every other sentence. But, he did have a point. She got these flowers for a reason, and it would suck throwing 30 bucks into the trash, especially when she spent 15 minutes researching flower meanings while looking for a bouquet.
Ymir accepted the offer, and snagged Marco's address information, too. After jotting it down on the backside of the card Marco's number was written on, Ymir finally left the hospital and headed back home. A quick Google Maps search after the call with Marco told her that he lived on the other side of town, and if she walked, the quickest she'd be there was roughly 2 days later. She'd have to walk back home, get on her motorcycle and drive down to Marco's instead.
She jogged her way home. Well, apartment, technically. There was no need for her to buy a house, especially when she got by well enough living in a small apartment by herself. It was comfy, it was cozy, and not expensive as fuck. She wasn't making enough income to even buy a house within the next 10 years, anyways.
Once arriving at her apartment, she grabbed the keys to her motorcycle and decided that putting a plastic wrapping over the flowers would be a goddamn genius idea. In the event of rain, it'd prevent the flowers from getting a hell of a lot of damage from it like last time. She had hopes, however, that it wouldn't rain. At least, for now. And that's what the forecast on her phone foretold her. She had some sort of faith in the weather.
After securely wrapping and tying off the plastic wrapping over the flowers, she headed back on out and over to where her motorcycle stood, leaning on its peg and waiting for her patiently. After a short session of thinking how the hell she was going to drive her motorcycle while also carrying the bouquet safely, she found out that that little compartment on the side of her cycle could fit the bouquet. It would get a little squished if she wanted it in there completely and the compartment closed, but she'd rather have mushed flowers rather than drowned and droopy flowers like last time.
She shot a quick text to Marco, which felt a bit more awkward that it should have, and drove off. She memorized the main streets near to Marco, and if she needed some extra help remembering, she had the GPS running and ready for her on her phone when she did need it.
She hadn't rode her bike in quite some time. At her new job, it was close enough for her to simply walk. She didn't mind walking to work day in and day out, as it gave her some exercise, and there wasn't a lot of space open consistently enough for her to park her bike. Plus, it saved on gas. She could use the extra money nowadays.
After struggling to figure out where she was after entering the residential-suburban area near to where Marco was, she managed to find the apartment complex where Marco's place was. It looked nice, kind of higher end. Dude was probably making steady bank, living here. She briefly wondered what Marco did as a job. He seemed like the type to have a job with a higher pay that required more school. Perhaps a doctor. No, he wasn't working today, since he had Historia over. Doctors are always working, at least that's what they showed on tv. Maybe he was a therapist or something. Whatever it was, good pay.
She parked her bike nearest to the exit and the main building of the apartment complex, knowing that she'd at least be able to find that and then her bike as well. Then, out came the bouquet from the side compartment. It was just a little mushed, nothing too bad or too noticeable. It did not look like Ymir accidentally ran it over with her bike and then still decided to give it to Historia like she worried it might have. Ymir checked the address on the card she wrote it down on, and after figuring out the set up of the complex, with more ease than she expected, found the building he lived in. A short walk up one flight of stairs and there she was, at Marco's door.
God, this was kinda weird. She didn't know either of them. Hasn't even spoken at all to one of them. And here she was, crashing their party and meeting one for the first time. Legitimately. The one who saved her life, pretty much. The circumstances were odd and out of the norm, but whatever. She had no work this weekend and time she didn't mind spending.
After knocking three times the door opened, revealing Marco. He grinned brightly at Ymir once he realized who it was.
"Hey," He greeted, then stepping back and opening the door more for Ymir. "Make yourself at home. Historia's in the living room. Straight down the hall and to the right," Marco explained briefly before Ymir stepped on inside. She kicked off her shoes first, after noticing he had carpet. Only made sense to take off her shoes. Then she made her way on down the hall and to the right, as instructed.
"Do you want anything? Water, soda, beer…?" Marco offered, and Ymir simply replied with "beer" and a "thank you". Marco then turned in the opposite direction of Ymir, to the left. Before turning herself, she took a long, deep breath in and a long, deep breath out. She hoped Historia wasn't an asshole or something. Otherwise, buying this bouquet would've been a waste, and driving here to meet her a waste, too.
She then turned around the corner and, as told around a minute and a half ago, Historia was on the couch. She was curled up, a white fluffy pillow clutched in her arms and pressed against her chest. Her knees were brought up and against the pillow and her arms, the lower half of her face hidden by the pillow. Her eyes were fixated on the tv, which was playing some… cute animal show, or something. Ymir didn't know, but merely guessed by the sounds of soft and high-pitched kitten squeaks. Historia didn't seem to notice Ymir there.
It was then that Ymir noticed three things:
1.Historia had the most beautiful, reflective and bright blue eyes Ymir had ever seen in her entire goddamn life.
2.Historia was smaller than she realized, so tiny and frail looking, that it made Ymir baffled at how she got through a collision with a fucking car with only a broken elbow and barely any bruises.
3.That tiny body was also able to hit Ymir like a ton a bricks and push her aside with the strength of a great typhoon. Or something.
This chick was amazing. And she hadn't even spoken to her yet.
After ogling her for longer than what should even be considered polite at this point, Ymir awkwardly cleared her throat to get her attention. Historia's eyes then shifted from the clumsy, mewling kittens on screen to Ymir, who stood there kinda awkwardly with pink carnations in her hands. Historia's eyes widened a little as she realized something after a short second.
"Oh! You must be Ymir!" She said, then smiling.
Ymir noticed a fourth thing:
4. Historia was not a human being. With eyes twinkling like that, with hair that bright and beautiful, and with a smile so sweet, so perfect, there was no way she was a descendant from the human race, but rather descended down from Heaven.