Chapter 2
Ymir’s big plan turns out to be staking out all the higher end apartments in Trost.
“She’s a bougie bitch, I can just tell,” Ymir had grumbled to herself when she initially came up with the idea, and Annie didn’t really know how to feel about that thought, so she just let Ymir handle the rest of the scheming - not that she would’ve helped either way. She almost always felt faint whenever she thought about the near-miss with her soulmate, so she tried her best to put it out of her mind.
She really wasn’t lying when she told Ymir that she wasn’t mad. When she first realized what exactly had aggravated Ymir so much, she nearly went into shock. In fact, she thinks she actually very nearly fainted. All the blood had drained from her face, and her heart was beating so fast she thought that it may have actually flown away from her. It was only until Ymir started shrieking outside their window like a banshee and practically tore out her arm to pull her outside the apartment did she slip back into a pseudo-reality. She had just the presence of mind to keep up with Ymir’s frantic pace as they tore out of the building.
It took being shaken around like a toy to finally snap her out of her daze. Once she did, she knew she needed to calm her soulmate down too or else it’d just re-freak herself out, and she really didn’t need that right now. It took all that she had to push down the apprehension that had steadily been rising in her stomach, and even when the end of the street pulled at her gaze, she refused to look. It was obvious that they missed her. There was no use in panicking now.
She saved that for later, when she was locked up in her room and Ymir was somewhere lurking and plotting.
Like with most things, Annie never put much energy into thinking about the whole soulmates thing. Whenever she did, she always grew discomfited by the emotions, subdued as they were, that welled within her. She couldn’t decipher them, and she truthfully didn’t want to, so she just never thought about it.
After her first encounter with Ymir, though, she knew she couldn’t ignore it forever, especially when her soulmate seemed to have no trouble crawling under her skin. It was the most interest she’s taken in anyone, which, she supposes was the point, so Ymir stayed and Annie tried to compromise with herself.
She tried not putting any stock into the subtle ways her life changed once Ymir stormed into it - how... content she seemed to be, when before, all she felt was genuine indifference. But there was an undeniability in the way they blossomed together, in how life sucked a whole lot less. Ymir irritated her just enough to motivate her to do her schoolwork, and Annie held Ymir back every time it looked like she was about to shove her fist up her dad’s ass. Both of their repulsion towards emotional vulnerability meant that they never had to deal with uncomfortable moments, and they never expected anything out of one another. It was a partnership that Annie...liked.
And once she realized she actually liked it, something manifested within her, too fast for her to stop - longing.
Not for Ymir’s goblin-looking ass, but for something else.
(If the whole platonic soulmate thing worked out so well...did that mean the romantic one would too?
That was something that replayed in her mind at night.)
Annie had been fine alone all those years. Sure, she had friends, but she never made any meaningful connections with them. She was cold and aloof, and they didn’t interest her enough for her to care. This never bothered her -
until she let herself think a little too hard about the whole soulmate thing. And then, she couldn’t stop thinking about it. It was a crack in her wall, one she couldn’t immediately seal, and once it was there, she could do nothing to erase the fact that it had been there, that there was something fundamentally different about her perspective of the world.
Ymir and Annie were alone together - two reclusive assholes who could only ever tolerate each other. The companionship was nice and comfortable, something she didn’t know she desired until she had it. But then she thought about the other person supposedly tied to her heart, and suddenly, Annie was longing.
Annie didn’t long. It was beneath her - too vulnerable, too emotional, too common .
She didn’t want to want her soulmate. She couldn’t long for someone she’s never seen or met before.
But that didn’t stop her from imagining it, though. How, secretly, buried under layers of frigid ice, she yearned to be seen, to be touched , to be loved . She craved intimacy, and who else was to give it to her other than her soulmate? This was how their world worked, and if Annie had to put her faith in anything, maybe she could put a little bit of it in this.
But then this brings us to her problem.
Once she accepted and actually began to maybe look forward to the fact that she had someone out there, she became overtaken by a familiar feeling - one she had felt before but never acknowledged: anxiety.
Who could actually be Annie’s soulmate? What was wrong enough with them that they were paired with her? Would they get along? Would they annoy her?
Or the worst case scenario: Would they be like her father ?
And now that Annie actually knew something about her soulmate - would they be judgemental? Were they actually bougie like Ymir suggested? Because Annie usually couldn’t care less about other people one way or the other, but that didn’t mean that other people felt the same way. What if the woman didn’t like that she wore a hoodie nearly everyday? What if she didn’t like the fact that she owned a repair shop? They were reputable and did pretty well, but what if she was so snobby that she looked down upon manual labor?
So while Annie really wanted to meet her soulmate, she also really didn’t want to either.
The feeling of panic that washed over her when she thought about how close the other woman was to her, how close she was to her, was the biggest adrenaline rush she’s ever gotten, and it lasted throughout the rest of the week. Her eyes, which were usually lidded with disinterest, were just the slightest bit wider, and while she tried to put the incident out of her mind, she couldn’t deny that she was tense every time they left the apartment.
For the first few days of Ymir’s plan, they couldn’t avoid work to stalk the nearest luxury apartments, so instead, Ymir spent entirely too much time and gas doing drive-by’s to the most popular complexes listed on yelp in the morning, during lunch, and when they got off.
But there was not even a spark of light within the first week, which wasn’t exactly surprising. The manager had said she was looking to move within the next few months, but Ymir was just as anxious about this as Annie was (but in a completely different way) so she was too eager to sit still. Actively looking meant that she couldn’t dwell on the fact that she missed her, and that meant that their first week on the hunt was rather busy.
(She probably should’ve been a little more concerned with the fact that Ymir had been the one driving, searching desperately for that blinding light to erupt from Annie’s chest, but, well, the thought never occurred to her. She was too busy trying not to become violently ill every time they drove past an apartment building to notice, truthfully.)
When the first 4 days turn out to be failures, Ymir decides to kick it up a notch and get all of their errands done on Saturday.
“We’ll be moving around the city, so we’ll cover more ground,” she’d said. “There aren’t any tours on sunday’s, and saturdays are a hotbed for people tryin’ to move here. Open houses, apartment tours, city tours - it’s the best day to be on the lookout.”
And Annie didn’t know enough to refute that (Ymir was the one who dealt with all of the apartment stuff early on. She was more picky than she let on, and Annie didn’t care one way or the other, so she let the other woman have free reign), but that didn’t mean she couldn’t complain. They procrastinated on a lot of things, so this really meant an all day thing.
If she wasn’t so grumpy about that, she would almost be impressed by Ymir’s forethought and planning.
So here they are, sitting on the patio of a pizza joint just across the street from #3 on Ymir’s yelp list. They’d gotten a rather early start and had been all around the city, but even Ymir had to concede to her grumbling stomach when lunch time hit. Still, she chose their restaurant with her plan in mind. #3 on her list just happened to be on the same street as #6 and #11, which meant they were covering those potential spots as well.
She’s already tired from just 4 hours of existing in public, and with Ymir sagging in her seat with her long legs sprawled out underneath their table, she can tell she feels the same.
Truthfully, Annie has a gut feeling that all this trouble was for naught. Perhaps in a month or two, when the projected date of her supposed soulmate’s move-in comes, they might have better luck, but wandering around like headless chickens, hoping for the smallest sign that she’s in the city with them doesn’t seem like it’s working.
Ymir doesn’t seem to come to the same conclusion, however, because with the determined glint in her eye, she seems intent on carrying out the rest of the day as planned, though there is a firm frown tugging at the corner of her lips that makes her look scarier than she usually does.
That face just leads to more of Annie’s apprehension, so she doesn’t bother to glance up at her for the rest of lunch, instead choosing to make her way through the rest of the pizza box while she scrolls idley through her phone. Ymir herself is grumbling under her breath, glaring at pedestrians passing them by without meaning to.
It isn’t until a couple of teenagers walk past, muttering, “look at the mug on that one,” that Annie looks up from her phone. She throws a leg out, tripping the nearest one, and Ymir’s bark of laughter sounds from beside her.
The kid is scowling as he catches his footing, and he whirls on them, ready for a fight - but the combination of Ymir’s nasty sneer and Annie’s darkened gaze is enough to send him stumbling back into his friends. With a string of curses aimed specifically at them, they all take off down the street.
Ymir begins to snicker and Annie’s lip quirks just the slightest bit up in amusement.
“Fucking punks. My mug is beautiful, actually,” Ymir comments, throwing her chin up arrogantly.
She releases a snort in response. “Beautiful isn’t how I would - ” and she stops dead in her seat. Her jaw works for a few seconds, but the rest of her body is frozen in shock.
Ymir really wasn’t being dramatic when she said that the light burned the hell out of her eyes, because this was bright. Like really fucking bright. Like so fucking bright that they had to practically be on top of whoever was making Ymir’s light go off.
And all that anxiety comes rushing up all at once.
Holy shit. Both of us in one week? She thinks incredulously to herself, still too shocked to move or breathe or do much of anything.
“What’s that look for, freak? Got something on my face or somethin’?” Ymir asks, scrunching up her features as she scrutinizes Annie.
“Light bright,” a synapse in her brain misfires, and she’s not even really sure what she’s said, but Ymir is looking at her like she’s crazy, so she guesses she sounds as unintelligible as she feels.
“Light bright? Is that tiny-person speak for something?”
Stiffly, she shakes her head, raising her finger to point at where she guesses is her chest, practically in a trance. “Bright light,” she amends, near a whisper. “Light very bright.”
And it’s Ymir’s turn to grow concerned. “Why the fuck are you speaking like a caveman, Annes? Did you hit your head in the five seconds I took my eyes off of you?”
Something snaps, and Annie jerks awake, wiping at her eyes when tears begin to leak from it. “Your light! You’re lit up! I can fucking see your light!” She all but shouts, and it startles Ymir so much that she nearly falls out of her chair.
“ My light?” Ymir asks dumbly, pointing at her own chest. “Like my light light? That light?” She continues on, mouth open like a gaping fish.
Annie nods furiously, and they sit there, staring at each other dumbly for several moments before someone sitting near them clears their throat.
“Doesn’t that mean you guys should get moving?” A pleasant looking man suggests, looking at them meaningfully.
And faintly, she’s aware that they’re both nodding in agreement, but instead of moving, they’re still blinking blankly at each other.
“C’mon ladies - get a move on! You don’t wanna miss them, do you?” The woman sitting across from the man encourages, clapping her hands together to get their attention.
Boy, does that work. In the next moment, they’re both snapping to attention, furiously snatching at the items on the table to make their escape out of the patio. Behind them, there are some calls for good luck, but they don’t turn back to acknowledge them.
Annie has Ymir’s wrist firmly in her hand, and as she runs down the street, something twists inside her, an inherent sense of wrongness that has her sitting back on her heels to stop them. Ymir jerks backwards but adjusts readily when Annie pulls her across the street, dodging and weaving through traffic in such a way that can only be done by people who have lived in the city all their lives and who give the absolute least fucks possible. Ymir, who grew up in the more rural parts of the state, almost has a heart attack every time she watches Annie nonchalantly side-step incoming cars. Now, however, she remains limp in her hand, pliant even as a car honks warningly at them.
By now, Ymir is looking less panicked and more horror-filled, which is a feeling Annie can relate to, but she doesn’t stop. She leads her down the block until the brightness even from her peripheral is almost too much to bear.
“Number 11,” Annie mutters to herself as she stops in front of a building, feeling something like satisfaction well up within her as she does so. “What a coincidence.”
Ymir, who’s still struck by the rapid fire events, looks even paler than before. “U-uh, Annes?”
“Hm, your soulmate must be in there right now,” she concludes, looking towards the front doors with intention. “And probably without their guide, too. Do you think the manager will let us camp out in the lobby?”
“Um,” Ymir supplies unhelpfully from behind her, but she doesn’t pay her any mind.
It’s early enough that she’s sure that whoever's in there must come down at least once more. It’s saturday, and most people tend to go out (unless they’re like Annie and Ymir who prefer to get high in their apartment and play video games all night). Assuming that they’re the type to want to spend their night out, that means that they’ll be leaving sometime later....which is not exactly ideal because it’s only 12:30 in the afternoon and they could be spending several, several hours outside this apartment building waiting for them.
But that’s also based on an assumption that they’ll leave at all. Large, confined buildings were among the top 10 hardest locations for soulmate matches, according to Maria Daily, especially when the other person didn’t have their guide with them.
This was going to be difficult. They had to play it smart or else they really would lose their chance. Playing it safe was probably going to be the best and only option. They could park their car in front of the building and camp out until the person left. It could take hours, and they would have to explain to the manager in the front office so no one called the cops on them for loitering, but they could do it.
Annie nods her head decisively, already committed to her plan, and makes to head towards the office to explain the situation. Ymir’s hand on her shoulder stops her, however.
“Wait! I-I have to pee,” Ymir explains, looking a little crazed with how wide her eyes are.
Annie turns to look at her incredulously. “Are you - ” she stops to shake her head. “Alright, go to the restroom. We’re going to be staking out this place for a while, so make sure you won’t have to go later on.”
Her face only seems to pinch more, and Annie finally seems to clue in on her hesitance, narrowing her eyes as she studies her body language through the light.
“Ymir, are you - ”
“Whelp! Let’s go then!” Ymir says very suddenly, grabbing onto Annie’s shoulders to steer her away, but Annie digs her heels in.
“There are bathrooms in the lobby. Let’s just stay here,” she says, eyeing her suspiciously. She doesn’t want to take a chance and leave, just in the slightest chance that they came down from the apartment while they were away, so she pulls Ymir towards the building instead, ignoring the panicked squeak that sounds behind her.
When they reach the front doors, it’s an empty lobby that awaits them.
“Must be giving out a tour,” Ymir mutters, before they spot the bathroom. She opens the door, and when Annnie moves to go in with her, Ymir holds out a hand, raising an eyebrow.
“But - ” she starts, and then stops, shaking her head once she realizes what exactly she was protesting against. She sets her lips in a firm line and leans back against the wall near the door, feeling much like a jailer the way she scrutinizes Ymir. “Hurry it up, then.”
Rolling her eyes, she salutes and closes the door behind her. Annie keeps her eyes on the hallway that leads from the elevators, toying with the strings of her hoodie unconsciously. The doors to the front swing open, and it draws Annie’s eyes. A family passes through with little fuss, and she sighs, settling in a little better against the wall.
The sharp ding from the elevator sounds, and mindless chatter fills the hall.
“Yeah, next thursday!”
“Really? That’s so soon. Do you think - ”
“Thank you so much for your time!”
“No problem. Have a good day now!”
“See ya later, babe! Text me when you get home, alright?”
“Will do!”
Annie straightens up, knocking on the door behind her. “Ymir, hurry the hell up!” She hisses, trying to scan through the crowd that passes them by. The property manager makes his way into the office, but the 5 or 6 people passing by are all a blur of faces. She tries to scan their faces, looking for any discernible feature, any slight shine or sparkle that might alert her to their importance but they pass quickly and leave the building.
Something settles in the bottom of her stomach, and she fidgets helplessly, growing more and more impatient as Ymir dawdles. The property manager finally notices her and gives her a look, as if he somehow knows that she’s not supposed to be there.
“These restrooms aren’t for public use,” he informs her, a little snidely, somehow still staring down at her from his place behind his desk.
She has to resist the urge to immediately scowl back at him. She needs his cooperation if this is going to work, and pissing him off won’t do them any favors. Annie presses off the wall, trying not to kick at the door to remind Ymir that this situation is sensitive and that she’s making Annie anxious, and approaches the desk. She’s not the most approachable or friendly looking girl around, but she tries her hardest to look at least a little presentable, erasing the crease between her eyebrows and softening the hard line of her lips.
“Hey, I’ve gotta question,” she asks, shoving her hands into her pockets as she steps in front of him. He glances up, raising an eyebrow and nodding his head as if to tell her to continue. “Do you ever get any soulmate matches here? Like, do you have any policies on that?”
He blinks, unimpressed by the question. “Not while I’ve been on duty, no. The laws are rather liberal in that regard, but our personal policy is that you may not enter actual residential areas. The other person must come down from their floor so that you can complete the match,” he responds in a monotone voice that grates on her nerves.
But still, the answer is a favorable one.
“So you wouldn’t mind if my soulmate and I hung out here to wait for hers to come down? I don’t think they have their guide with them, but the light led us to this apartment building so we’re trying to stay until we catch sight of them,” Annie explains, looking a little hopeful.
Then man, however, does not share the sentiment.
“That’s loitering,” he retorts blandly, though the flicker of emotion that flashes through his eyes betrays his facade. “And could be described as borderline creepy.”
Annie recoils as if she’s been physically struck by his words. “How the hell is that creepy?” She demands a little harshly, indignant and almost scandalized by his response. “This is literally how our society works. We all go through this!”
The manager shrugs, still looking unmoved by her explanation. “I don’t agree with it. Soulmates are fickle and irrational. To be tied to one person and expect it to work out 100 percent of the time is a ridiculous notion.”
“You don’t agree with the concept of soulmates ?” Annie deadpans, voice slow and dangerous in its quality, like she’s talking to a particularly idiotic customer at the shop. She’s now unable to hide the traces of disgust and contempt that line the edge of her face, which is probably the first sign that things are about to turn ugly.
“Yes, that should be rather obvious.”
“You don’t agree with extreme compatibility - with absolute certainty. You don’t agree with a love that never fades, that’s supposed to make this shithole world actually tolerable,” if possible, the timbre of her voice becomes darker and the look in her eye is akin to how one would look when about to step on a particularly disgusting bug in reaction to his condescension. “How can you disagree with an indisputable part of our society - one that most people actually fucking appreciate?”
If the Annie of 8 years ago, the one before Ymir and all the soulmate business hit her like a freight train, could see her right now, she’d be horrified. Absolutely flabbergasted. The Annie of the present would feel much the same if she could think about anything other than the fact this man just ascended into her top 5 Most Punchable Faces.
Sitting here, defending the principal and the emotions behind soulmates like she was actually, personally offended by his opinion was a new type of low for her.
But she didn’t give a fuck. She was pissed .
“I just do,” the man replied flatly, not bothering to hide the look of disdain from his face. “It’s nothing more than a silly little fairytale that people obsess over to distract themselves from the crushing weight of reality. It's the obligation of love and not the uniting of it.”
And that strikes a nerve that Annie didn’t even know she had - because that’s what she feared, right? Being the recipient of an obliging love - one that’s not true. One that could never truly see her. One that’s just stuck with her.
That trail of thought only stokes the coals of indignation and fury and contempt that all rage within her stomach.
Her nostrils flare out, eyes darkening, and lips twist up into a snarl. “Just because you don’t believe in it doesn’t mean you get to - ”
“Woah, what’s happening here?”
“ - stop people from experiencing it.”
Ymir had approached from behind in the time it took for Annie to adopt her patented, “i’m so fucking pissed off that I might break someone’s fucking jaw” look. It’s probably been a few years since she’s last seen that particular murderous gaze - a bar fight that ended with 4 stitches to her eyebrow, she recalls - so the alarm in Ymir’s voice is not unfounded.
Her arguments have little effect on the man behind the desk, who squares his shoulders and turns his nose up at her. “My final answer is no. You may not ‘hang out’ here and stalk that poor person. Now I suggest you leave, or I’ll be calling the cops.”
And that has Annie going from ‘i might break someone’s fucking jaw’ to ‘there’s literally nothing going to stop me from breaking their fucking jaw.’
Her face twists, and she snarls - like actually fucking snarls - and finally , that’s enough to get the man to react. He jumps in his seat, and just as it looks like Annie’s about to lunge for him, Ymir grabs her and hoists her over her shoulder, trying valiantly to dodge her kicking feet and curled fists.
“Let me down, Ymir!” She hisses, clawing at her back. “I’m gonna tear this fucking evolutionsbremse’s scrotum to shreds! If that stück scheiße ruined this for us, I swear to GOD, ” She snarls as she’s being hoisted out the door, face as livid as she’s ever been and an accent that’s been buried leaking back into her voice.
People are staring as they leave the building, but they may as well be invisible to her. Her pulse is pounding, and her head is throbbing, and she’s quite literally seeing red.
Ymir has to pull her to the side of the building, out of sight of everyone else, and when she’s finally released, she throws out a kick at the nearest dumpster, relishing in the startling sound that erupts from it.
“T-That absolute backpfeifengesicht! Stalking!? How dare he!?” she seethes, clenching and unclenching her fist as she paces.
“C’mon, babe - chill out,” Ymir tries to reason, only to immediately recoil and hold out her hands in front of her when she sees the sharp glare that’s thrown her way.
Annie takes a harsh breath through her nose and looks to the floor, trying to dispel at least some of the anger so she can think properly. Letting some condescending douchebag rile her up like this was a new low for her. She was usually composed - usually let her anger simmer coolly in her stomach until it dissipated completely. Now, she can only blame her sensitivity and her subsequent reaction to it on the whole soulmates fiasco. Having someone standing directly in the way of her best friend finding her soulmate was definitely an easy way to let her rage boil over.
Speaking of Ymir - when Annie is finally cognizant enough to look at her soulmate and not see a red haze surrounding her, she realizes that Ymir's tanned skin suddenly has a sickly pallor to it. Sweat is clinging to the sides of her face, and even though she tries to hide her hands in her pockets, it’s clear that her body is trembling.
Annie freezes.
“...Ymir? What’s wrong?”
Ymir shrugs a little manically, letting out a humorless huff of laughter. “Had a bit of a panic attack in the bathroom, but your yelling sure as hell distracted me before I could fully have a freak out - thank fuck .”
And Annie’s eyes widen in horror, the energy from her earlier angry outburst converting to worry. “A panic attack?” She asks, hurriedly trying to recall a time when Ymir has ever had such a thing and coming up blank. She’s not even really sure what classifies as a panic attack, but judging from the look of her soulmate, it must be serious.
“What - why did you,” and then Annie realizes. She stops short, mouth opening and closing, as if trying to figure out what to say. It’d been so obvious before, but she was too focused on the task at hand to pay attention to it.
Figures that Ymir would have the same reaction to finding her soulmate that she did. They really were a match made in Hell.
She swallows the lump in her throat, and Ymir grimaces a little, like she knows Annie understands. They stare at each other a little awkwardly for a few moments before Ymir kicks at the dirt on the floor. “Guessing the cunt wasn’t too happy about us camping out in front of the building?” She jests, a little weakly, trying to act like she wasn’t relieved.
And Annie let out a heavy sigh, trying to bury the embers of her anger before they started up again. “Doesn’t matter anyways. Lost my temper, and I guess your person made a break for it while we were distracted. What shit luck,” she curses, shoving her own hands into her pockets and frowning intensely at the ground.
“I guess the universe thought we’ve been coasting on the good life for a little too long. Not surprised that it wants to shit on us now,” Ymir mutters a little darkly, and there’s nothing for Annie to do but agree with her. Two misses in one week really didn’t speak well of the amount of karma her and Ymir have probably racked up over the years - and that’s not even counting the shit they probably did in a past life.
Annie lets out a heavy sigh.
“Whatever. Let’s just go home. I’m sick of today.”
Ymir is all too ready to agree. “Too many fucking L’s this week, man.”
And then they walk down the street, get into their car, and then proceed to get blasted on their couch, trying their best to ignore the nightmare that has been this past week.
Three weeks later, and there’s still not even a flicker of light for either of them. It’s been a little awkward, sharing glances with each other all throughout the day and making sure that they’re nearly always within sight of each other (which, granted, isn’t that hard since they literally work and live together). It’s made room for a bit of tension between them, and more than once, they’ve snapped and growled at each other, both feeling suffocated by the constant surveillance. Annie never had a sibling, but she thinks that she could probably liken her relationship with Ymir to it. Yelling at each other and making passive aggressive comments, only to hover by their room and ask to go get food with each other.
It’s weird. And unsettling. And irritating.
Ymir’s been as jumpy as an alleycat lately, and it’s even started to freak their actual alleycat out. Or Annie’s poor cat at least (Ymir pretends she hates him, but she’s really just asshurt because he doesn’t want anything to do with her). Every time they hear a honk (from their now permanently open window they keep ajar ‘ just to save time in case they walk by again’ - because that worked so well before ), Ymir twitches and tenses, and the cat, affectionately named Bastard, bristles, a yowl beginning at the base of his throat like he can just sense Ymir’s bad energy.
Annie’s had to lock Bastard inside her room a time or two because she couldn’t psychologically handle the showdown her soulmate and her cat had every time something set either of them off.
So yeah - this is how that’s going.
As the weeks drag on, she can tell the tension is growing to near insurmountable levels - Ymir because she’s eager to find Annie’s soulmate already and Annie because she knows that Ymir is eager. If her soulmate was actually going to move to Trost, it was supposed to be soon, and she couldn’t lie and say it wasn’t making her nearly just as jumpy as Ymir was.
After that terrible, terrible miss at that Yelp apartment, neither of them had been all that energetic about soulmates. Ymir had looked nauseous all the way home, and Annie had wallowed in that residual anger, coupled with the rising guilt and anxiety she’s sure Ymir felt the first time they went through this soulmate disaster.
There weren’t very many words exchanged between them when they got home. It was clear as day to both of them what happened, and the actual tangible embarrassment that would have burst from Ymir if she had to talk about her feelings would have been too much for the both of them.
Ymir was scared shitless at the prospect of finding her romantic soulmate. Annie didn’t particularly know why, but she had a feeling that vulnerability and dependence and all that romantic stuff was terrifying to someone who usually bit first and asked questions later (if at all).
So Annie never brought it up with her. Sure, Ymir knew that she was keeping an eye out and had her own plan, but it was mutually agreed that they didn’t speak about it.
She herself had been speculating about that day when she had a moment to actually sit and think without imagining the landlord’s face beneath her foot. Ymir had continued to drive for most of the next month, but during the times Annie had physically wrestled the keys out of her hand, Ymir had hissed and clawed at the window when she saw her turn down a familiar street. The both of them could barely breathe every time they passed it, but to her chagrin, there was nothing.
A visitor, Annie surmised at first. That could pose a problem, especially if the visitor didn’t live in the city.
But then she thought about it some more, trying to look past her rage-tinted glasses, and remembered something.
The landlord hadn’t been there when they walked in .
He’d been giving someone a tour before they got there and finished only minutes before Annie noticed that Ymir’s light had dimmed considerably. This was a bit of a guess, but coupled with the fact that her own soulmate had been on a tour only so many days before left her feeling a bit suspicious. That seemed like too much of a coincidence for her to not at least consider.
But that also brought up a whole other avenue of thought. Did she dare think that their soulmates were each other’s soulmates as well? That might be too much of a stretch, but fate could be strange like that.
It would be all too convenient, however, if that were the case, and she didn’t think that she was lucky enough for some convenience in her life.
All Annie hoped for was that she really didn’t ruin their chance. Even if Ymir’s soul practically left her body every time they heard mention of romantic soulmates, she knew that that didn’t mean Ymir didn’t want one. It just meant that she was a wuss, and a little insecure (she could relate). Losing this person wasn’t an option, couldn’t be an option, but all she could do for now was wait.
Fate was lucky she was patient.
1 month and 13 days after the first soulmate fiasco, Annie wakes to the sound of tires screeching and the subsequent crash of metal. Her door is open (and so is that fucking window), and her subconscious, which just barely registers the urgency of the situation and thus just barely manages to wake her up, has her trudging towards the window to see the street below her.
The late morning sun blinds her momentarily, and she rubs clumsily at her eyes, leaning heavily against the windowpane. The cars don’t seem to be too messed up - just a rear ending that has one man screaming a little too passionately at another while the rest of the street watches. Annie rolls her eyes, preparing to turn away and crawl back into bed for at least another hour.
Then something catches her eye, drawing her attention back to the street below.
A flash of black on the sidewalk, too furry to just be a blur.
Annie snaps to attention, fully awake.
“That little shit,” she grinds out, turning on her heel towards her room with a growl. She grabs for the nearest jacket, zipping it up halfway, and throws on a pair of sweats and some shoes. She reaches for her keys and her phone, and then she’s storming out of the apartment, ready to go to war.
She’s not exaggerating when she says that dealing with that fucking cat when he’s in a mood is actually like fighting a battle. It was a test of wills and patience and understanding your enemy better than your enemy understood you. Most times, it always resulted in the latter.
He really was a little shit, but that was just part of his charm.
She found him a few years ago in the alley between buildings, sitting in a pile of his own blood with his face looking like a warzone. Still, he had the gall to hiss and bat at her with his paws even though it was clear that he could barely move at all. It was one of the most impressive things she’d seen in a while (in like - ever, actually), so she decided that something that fought that hard to live deserved to reap the fruits of his efforts and took him to the vet.
She should’ve known that Bastard would’ve grown on her. Let them in through just the tiniest crack in her wall, and she would never be rid of them. It was like fungus or something.
But while she may have grown fond of this stupid creature, she couldn’t deny that he was still a little feral. It is, ultimately, how the cat managed to escape out the window of a 5th story fire escape. She should’ve known better than to let Ymir leave the window open, but she’d figured that the brat was too spoiled and pampered to want to run away. Apparently, Annie figured wrong.
Honestly, she should be sending Ymir out after him, but she knows that after a few hisses and one of those admittedly intimidating charges, Ymir would come running back with her tail between her legs, looking grumpy and murderous and even a little bit sheepish.
If she wants her stupid cat back, she has to go get him herself.
If only that was easier said than done.
Once she gets down to street level and finds him around one of his former haunts, he, obviously, decides to hightail it out of there, leaving her no choice but to chase him up and down alleys. He hides behind dumpsters and crosses streets in a way that puts the fear of god into her. Every so often, she huffs and glares, growling out, “I’m done fucking following you, cat. If you don’t let me catch you, I’m leaving your ass here.”
Suffice to say, she ends up following him another mile and a half away from her apartment before she snaps and begins to actually chase after him. He darts out from behind the buildings with her hot on his heels, and she nearly gains on him, until a nearby dog barks, scaring him so badly that he jerks sideways. Annie tries to follow the movement, but she is but a mere bipedal mortal with dramatically less grace than a cat and almost ends up twisting her knee trying to keep up with him. She can only watch helplessly, and in slow-motion, as a dog begins to bark at the bastard, causing him to yowl as he scrambles up the nearest tree.
Annie lets out an anguished groan through harsh pants as the severity of the situation hits her, hands on her knees.
“I am so sorry! Spanky, stop it right now! Bad dog!” A girl admonishes her dog, pulling the leash towards her while the little corgi growls and pulls.
Annie side eyes the little dog before glancing up at the cat in the tree, who currently laid, curled around the bark of a branch like his life depended on it. She sends him an unimpressed glare, and he only hisses back, as if to say, what of it? It’s still a dog.
“I’m so sorry! Is that your cat?” The girl says again, looking worriedly between Annie and Bastard.
Annie lets out a long sigh before straightening, shoving her hands in her pockets. “Yeah, the cat’s mine,” she mutters disdainfully, already dreading the next hour of her life.
“I…” she trails off, holding the leash to her chin fearfully as she stares up at the demonic creation currently releasing those unholy, ear-bleeding screeches. “I don’t think you’re getting him down by yourself.”
And she has a sinking feeling that the other girl is right. Bastard is fussy on an average day, but with him in panic mode like this means that she may not come out of this with the muscle in her arms fully intact. How wonderful.
“I-I can call the fire department for y-you if you want!” She volunteers, shifting anxiously beside her. “B-because it’s my fault and stuff,” she mumbles, not fully able to look Annie in the eye.
Annie frowns at the behavior, and the girl whimpers a little. “It’s fine. I’ll figure it out,” she responds flatly, though she can’t deny that getting someone else to do this for her sounds pretty nice.
“Please! I i-insist!”
She’s already pulling out her phone by the time Annie decides to shrug in agreement. If the other girl was so eager, she wouldn’t deny the help.
After a few minutes and a few rapid, angry words shared between her and the bastard, the girl comes back.
“Uh - so someone’s coming out to help us. They - they don’t normally do these kinds of things, but they decided to help us anyway,” she says with a relieved but anxious smile. The poor operator probably felt bad for the girl, Annie thinks.
“Thanks,” she responds, folding her arms over her chest. “You don’t have to wait, though. It’s fine.”
“But it’s my fault!”
Annie gives her a wry look. “The stupid cat was already running away from me. At least now I have a chance to actually catch him. It’s fine. Finish walking your mutt.”
It takes a firm look and a few more interrupted attempts at refusal before the girl reluctantly retreats, looking back worriedly before disappearing further into the park. Annie sighs in relief. Some people really were too nice.
It takes another 20 minutes for the fire department to get there. During that time, she’s taken to leaning back against the tree and shooting barbed insults to her furry companion, all the while he continues to growl deep in his chest. By now, it sounds more like whining than anything, so she has hope that he’ll eventually let himself be extracted from the tree.
Off-handedley, almost boredly at this point, she threatens, “When we get home, I’m making an appointment at the groomers I know you hate. When she straps you down, I’m not gonna be sympathetic at all.”
And somehow, it seems like he understands her, because he begins to yowl again, looking and sounding all sorts of betrayed.
“Wow, I think he understood you,” a woman’s voice has her snapping her head forward.
Fire department’s here , Annie thinks faintly, face going slack as the firefighter approaches and stops just in front of her. She has to swallow around the lump that’s suddenly formed in her throat because, holy fuck - she is so gay.
The other woman is in standard fire department uniform - a collared t-shirt, tight cargo pants, and black boots - and there’s just something about the way it clings to her body, taught against her muscles and curves, that immediately draws her eyes and causes a flush to rise on her skin.
An instant attraction, Annie realizes later. The way her mouth goes dry and her fingers begin to tremble are a sure sign of it, as foreign as both feelings are. She’s never wanted to memorize the planes of someone’s face before - never looked so intensely at the curve of someone’s jaw or the dip of someone’s lips.
And it’s only been about 30 seconds since she’s been there.
Weird - but she has more pressing matters.
Another voice joins them, filling the silence that sat between them while Annie was too stupefied to even breathe, let alone respond. “Phew, he doesn’t look too happy,” a man whistles, looking up at the cat. He glances at Annie. “This yours?”
Annie nods. “Name’s Bastard,” she mentions lowly. “Got out of my apartment this morning and I chased him all the way to this park. A dog ran him up the tree a while ago.”
She’s trying not to look at the female firefighter so much, but when she hums in acknowledgment, her eyes are drawn to her anyways. The woman’s already looking at her when she turns, looking thoughtful, if a bit amused by the situation.
“Bastard, indeed. This does not look like it'll be fun,” he mentions, rocking back on his heels as he side eyes his companion meaningfully.
The woman shakes her head firmly. “My senior officer needs to demonstrate the operation before I’m allowed to attempt it. After you, Lieutenant,” she responds, very seriously, but Annie can detect the underhandedness immediately. Her lip twitches in response.
“You’re hardly a rookie,” the man grumbles, frowning and flinching a little when Bastard narrows his eyes further at him. He acquiesces, though, with little fight and begins to trudge back to his car. The woman follows him after another glance at Annie, and she feels it like a lightning bolt down her spine.
Jesus Christ, you’re gay, but you’re not that gay. Get it together, dumbass! She hisses inwardly, trying to recompose herself before they got back.
She looks up at the sound of metal clanking together and promptly wishes she didn’t. The firefighter is there, holding up the ladder, biceps flexed and shirt pulled tight against her stomach.
Annie nearly chokes on her saliva at the sight. Almost frantically, she brushes a hand beneath her nose, looking for blood. When she finds none, she can only hope that her reaction wasn’t noticeable.
“On a scale of 1 to 10, how likely do you think it is that he full on attacks me,” the man asks as he approaches, pulling on the standard firefighter jacket.
“Oh, that’s a hard 11,” Annie responds immediately, and that earns a small snort from the other woman that has her stuffing down the urge to puff up in pride.
“Great,” the man groans, tucking his face behind the high collar of his jacket and beginning to put on the gloves.
“Good luck, Lieutenant,” the woman says, almost grave in her tone, and Annie echoes the sentiment, looking towards her adopted offspring warily.
The ladder is set and stabilized against the tree once he’s fully prepared, and after a short prayer she can just barely hear him say underneath his breath, he begins to climb. Annie tenses the higher he goes and the louder Bastard’s hisses and yowls become. Next to her, she can feel the woman cringe likewise.
“Was he feral at one point?” She asks, as if she’s genuinely curious, and Annie winces.
“Uh - yeah. Found him after a bad fight with the other cats in the alley. I thought it was dumb to just let him go back out and fight again, so I kept him,” Annie explains, trying to sound bored and uncaring as a defense mechanism for how off-kilter she feels at the woman’s presence.
The firefighter nods in understanding. “That was probably smart. And kind. Cats are -”
“SON OF A BITCH!” A shout startles the both of them. They look up to find the man holding one arm out, as if to hold the cat back from attacking him, while his other is latched in a death grip around the ladder. Bastard is glaring at him dangerously, haunches raised as if he’s about to pounce. “Down, Satan - down! Do not attack!”
And Annie has to hide a laugh behind a cough, turning away so the other two didn’t think she was laughing at him. The female firefighter seems to see it, though, and grins slightly in response.
When Bastard actually swipes at the lieutenant and the man whimpers just a little bit out of reflex, Annie sighs and rolls her eyes, pitying the poor guy. If he’d’ve let her, she would’ve climbed up the damn ladder herself, but she doesn’t think that’s standard company procedure. The only thing she can do for him now is try to calm the situation down.
“Bastard,” she calls out to the top of the tree, leaning to one side with a hand on her hip as she resists the urge to pick at her nails boredly. “It’s feeding time. Cut it out so we can go home already.” Annie can just see the way Bastard’s ears perk up, just the slightest bit, at the familiar phrase, and she smirks in anticipation.
“Yeah, listen to mama, devil kitty. Be a nice little bastard and - AHA! Got you!” he cries out victoriously once he nabs the cat, holding him out in front of his body while the feline hangs by the scruff of his neck.
Bastard’s limbs and claws are fully extended, and he’s growling and spitting fire from his eyes like someone cut off his tail. The other woman steps back fully once he reaches the ground, and he holds him out in front of him like a peace offering, looking at her pleadingly while he continues to dangle from his hand. Annie rolls her eyes and begins to unzip her jacket, revealing the tank top she slept in last night. She turns towards the cat, missing the way eyes widen at the sight of her newly exposed skin, and begins to neatly and systematically wrap the cat in a burrito. It’s the most effective way to calm him down surprisingly, and once he’s stuck like this, he cares very little to move. Thankfully, she’s had plenty of practice when it comes to this, sketchy handler and all, so once he’s fully in her arms, he only growls and protests a little before settling into her, chest continuing to rumble lowly just for the principle of it.
“You’ve got to be kidding me. You could’ve done that the whole time!?” The guy cries out incredulously, holding his hands to his head like this is the worst day of his life or something.
Annie glances up from her swaddled babe, trying not to look unimpressed by the guy that just did all of the hard work for her. “I couldn’t get up the tree,” she shrugs. “And he always likes to be comforted after being handled by someone he doesn’t like.”
“That’s sweet,” the other woman declares, glancing down at Bastard like one would do towards a baby while her partner slaps a hand to his face, exasperated.
“Yeah, well i’m not too big of a fan of him either, right now,” the guy sniffs a little, folding his arms over his chest. “But if you think it’s so darn sweet, you can start the report while I take a mental health break back over there,” he says, already heading back towards the SUV they parked a few yards away.
The other woman rolls her eyes but pulls out a clipboard anyways. “Name, address, date of birth?” She says, glancing up at Annie with those intense eyes of hers. They’re the strangest color - a stormy blue that looks more silver under the shadow of the tree - and it makes her shuffle a little bit in place, heart hammering a little too hard under their gaze. “Annie Leonhart. 1430 3rd street, apartment 528. March 22nd, 1994.”
The woman hums underneath her breath in response. Her pen path is smooth, and Annie can’t help but peak over at her handwriting. Of course, it’s neat and perfect, and she has to look away before she finds herself attracted to handwriting too.
“3rd street?” The woman mutters to herself after she’s finished, staring a little too hard at the paper. Annie raises an eyebrow in questioning. When she notices the look, she shakes her head and grimaces almost apologetically towards her. “Sorry, I just have a bad experience at that apartment complex.”
“Someone burn their kitchen down or something?” She asks, half-joking.
The woman’s face darkens, and Annie feels a sense of foreboding in the severity of that expression. “Unfortunately not. I recently just moved to the area and was looking for apartments, but…”
Something nags at her, and she squints her eyes. “But…?”
She looks up from where she’s been continuing to write the report, examining Annie’s face. Once she finds whatever she’s looking for, she smiles tightly. “Truthfully, there was nothing wrong with the apartment itself. I was actually interested in moving there, but...well, one of the residents put me off it, to put it lightly.”
“A resident?” She asks faintly.
A light flush spreads across the firefighter’s cheeks. It’s almost like she’s embarrassed by the memory, and Annie might’ve found it endearing if it weren’t for the fact that her breathing was beginning to fail. Anticipation and apprehension rises up her spine while the other woman finds her words.
“A woman yelled at me from her window on the day I took my tour. It was...a horrifying experience, and I decided not to return to it,” she explains almost sheepishly, shrugging one shoulder and glancing away just in time to miss the way Annie’s face transforms entirely.
In all of one moment, everything is startlingly clear. Annie can see this woman in her mind’s eye, standing below her window in a red scarf. She can see Ymir screeching and her running away and Annie missing her by mere moments. It’s a perfect play by play that she’s been repeating in her head for weeks, except now she actually has a face to imagine. And that face has her stomach dropping all too suddenly, has all the blood draining from her head, has her squeezing the cat in her arms tight enough for him to let out a mrow of alarm.
Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck. This is not fucking real. This is not fucking happening. I can’t be this lucky. There’s no way she’s my - my - my -
Annie lets out a strangled noise at the back of her throat when the other woman’s hand (her soulmate’s!! hand) touches the bare skin on her shoulder. It burns pleasantly, and she couldn’t stop the flush that spreads dangerously across her chest if she wanted to.
“Are you okay, Miss Leonhart? You look a little faint,” the firefighter (her soulmate!!) asks in concern, bending down to get a closer look at her eyes. If possible, Annie turns an even brighter shade of red that she has to hide by turning her head sharply to the side.
Coughing, she nods a little frantically. “Y-yeah! I’m fine. S-sorry, I was just...trying to think if I knew any neighbors that were crazy enough to do that,” she explains a little quickly.
The other woman narrows her eyes. “And did you come up with anyone?”
Annie swallows tightly. Yes, and I fucking live with that dumbass. Instead, she tries to look genuinely sympathetic, but it’s hard when she feels so queasy. “No, sorry. Everyone’s pretty laid back there.”
The other woman seems more perturbed at that thought before she nods in acceptance and slowly does a glance over of Annie. “So like you, then?” She asks, a little too innocently. Annie can see that she tries to keep her face neutral, but it’s obvious in the way her eyes linger a little too long on her own that she’s interested in something more than polite small-talk.
A thrill runs up her spine.
Was her soulmate actually flirting with her? Even though she didn’t know they were soulmates?
Annie’s heart skips a few beats at just the possibility.
“S’pose so,” she responds, voice a little lower than it was before. “But I think I take it to a different level.”
“Oh?” The woman looks equal parts amused and intrigued, cocking her head a little when Annie nods and quirks her lips in a smirk. She does another appreciative glance, eyes lingering a second too long on her shoulders and her collarbones and her -
“Oi, Ackerman! We gotta scram!” Her partner calls out to them, causing them to jerk back to awareness. Annie swallows, trying to recover from how that gaze felt like it had left a burning trail across her skin.
The firefighter, now Ackerman, apparently, turns and nods before she faces Annie once more, a flicker of disappointment flashing across her features. She looks like she’s hesitating, and Annie hesitates because she hesitates, and all too soon, she’s nodding her head, quirking her lips a little in a small smile. “It was nice to meet you, Miss Leonhart,” she says, glancing at the bundle now sitting content in her arms, “and you as well, Bastard. Both of you, please take care.”
Wait - hold on a sec! She wants to call out, already taking a step towards her retreating form, but her phone ringing in her pocket distracts her.
She glances down and glances back up. In all of a second, she decides to go for the phone. There’s no way she can stop the other woman and suddenly throw this revelation at her, especially with neither of their soulmates there to prove it. The other woman was working - an actual life-saving job that couldn’t be delayed by something like this. Letting her go for now was the right option.
She just wished it felt like it.
Annie swallows and swears, reaching down and maneuvering Bastard carefully so she can dig the phone out of her sweats pocket. Using one hand, she answers and shoves it between her ear and her shoulder, snapping, “What do you want?”
On the other end, Ymir growls, “Well hello to you too, fuckface.”
Annie groans. “Hello, Ymir. What do you want?”
“Well, gee, I don’t know - a million dollars for one, or maybe a beach house, or maybe a fucking roommate that actually responds to her texts. I’m fucking hungry, blondie, and you’ve been gone for like an hour,” Ymir snipes back, sounding irritated and indignant and every bit of her usual lovable self.
Annie opens her mouth to retort something equally as waspish, but pauses. Suddenly, a feral smirk unfurls across her face. “Oh, sorry about that. I was just busy talking to my soulmate so I couldn’t check my phone,” she responds in a purposefully bored tone.
“What the fuck does that even mean? I’ve literally been sitting here, doing nothing since your loud ass slammed the door earlier. What are you on?”
“I meant my other soulmate, Ymir,” Annie retorts blandly, rolling her eyes and moving towards a nearby bench under the shade. When she sits, she adjusts the burrito to lay horizontally across her stomach, letting him wiggle and knead the jacket before finally settling in a comfortable position. A low pur emits from his throat, and she strokes the top of his head fondly.
Ymir is silent for a few moments as this happens. “Your other - HUH!? How did you - how could you - WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU!?”
And Annie rolls her eyes. “Come to the park off of 14th and Hillside. We need a ride.”
When Ymir pulls up only 9 minutes later, it’s obvious she expected to see another human with her and not the sight of Bastard’s scarred but fluffy face wrapped up in Annie’s jacket. Her mouth is hanging open, eyes wide and betrayed, and it’s very obvious that she’s deciding whether or not to leave them stranded there. Luckily, Annie hops into the car before she can storm off, but she’s not saved from the tongue lashing she receives on the way home. Bastard starts up his yowls once more in response to Ymir’s bad attitude, and she sits there, trapped between the two grouchiest things in her life.
Somehow, it doesn’t bother her in the slightest. No - with the image of those gray eyes in her head and the fluttering excitement that’s built in her stomach - she finds she’s not bothered at all.