Do you think Annie would ever have irrational/intrusive thoughts about wanting to protect her daughter from Armin? I think she always dismisses them, but her first instinct at the mention of a father/dad is to get defensive
HOLY FUCK I THOUGHT I HAD ANSWERED THIS
But yes she definitely gets a little too many flashbacks. Armin suggests teaching the kid some self defense, and it brings so many horrible flashbacks for Annie that she agrees only on the condition that Armin doesn't come near her during self defense.
I do think she tries to suppress them, and I do think she and Armin have the occasional spat over it, but it's not very serious.
She looked around the room, as if she wanted confirmation from anyone or anything around her, to confirm that what she was hearing was true. Her eyes darted at the bookshelves, at the wooden chairs, at the photo frames, at the bottle of wine on the desk— but they didn’t speak, they just watched her bleed out.
‘I can’t do this anymore.’
He said to her.
‘It’s not working.’
He said to her, not waiting for her to say anything.
‘What do you mean?’
She asked him, and he sighed, taking in a deep breath, reciting the answer he had long memorized in his head for when she would ask that question.
‘We are broken, we are both broken beyond repair—’
‘But that was the whole point, we would heal together, we would heal each other.’
She interrupted him, getting up from her chair and walking towards him, towards the chair behind his desk in that small room on the boat.
‘We will heal together, I will heal you and you will heal me, isn’t that what you told—’
‘That was long ago,’ he interrupted her, ‘that was so long ago.’
‘It hasn’t been a year—’
‘It is a long time,’ he closed all the openings in her face. ‘I was a different person, you were a different person as well.’
She blinked, once, twice, thrice, the tips of her finger fidgeting with the golden band around one of them.
‘But we…’ she tried to say anything, but her tongue tangled in her mouth, and pushed against the roof of her mouth.
‘I…’ he hesitated, getting up from his chair. ‘I know this is not what I promised.’
‘So you are very aware of what you are doing?’ Annie asked him, ignoring the half empty bottle of wine on his desk.
‘I’ve been… thinking about it, for a while, and we are only ruining each other.’
Annie almost asked him if she was ruining him, but she stopped herself, because that was exactly what his words meant.
She was ruining him.
Annie shook her head, ‘I know we are broken, I know, but you’re not supposed to run.’
‘Annie—’
She shook her head, because he called her by her name, he renamed her as Annie, the endless months of my love blown away in one word.
‘You are not supposed to run, I am the one who runs, I am the one who hides, Armin, not you,’ she told him, ‘you can’t just… you can’t do this, we see each other everyday, we are both ambassadors, we work with each other, how are we going to live like this?’
‘I will try to stay out of your sight as much as I can,’ he told her, ‘I will stay away, I promise.’
‘Don’t promise!’ She said, her voice a few notches higher, ‘don’t give me your empty promises!’
‘Annie,’ he called her name, another stab into her chest, ‘I… I promise.’
She looked around the room, as if she wanted confirmation from anyone or anything around her, to confirm that what she was hearing was true. Her eyes darted at the bookshelves, at the wooden chairs, at the photo frames, at the bottle of wine on the desk— but they didn’t speak, they just watched her bleed out.
‘I am sorry, he told her, I didn’t want to let this go on for much longer.’
‘Why?’ She asked him.
‘Because stretching it out it would only make it harder—’
‘No no,’ she interrupted him, ‘why?’
He paused, only for two seconds, until he understood her question, then his answer came out fast and clear. ‘I don’t want to live like this for the rest of my life.’
But he meant something else, and even if he didn’t say it, Annie heard it loud and clear; ‘I don’t want to live with you for the rest of my life.’
He cleared his throat, ‘We’re not doing each other any good, we’re only hurting each other.’
‘You don’t hurt me’ she retorted, but then his words sank in, deep, until they laid on the bottom of her consciousness.
I am the one hurting him.
‘Right…’ she said, taking a step backwards, the first step she took out of his life, ‘right…’
‘I am so sorry,’ he said, reaching out with his hands, but she flinched away.
She never flinched from him before, not when he kissed her for the first time, not when he touched her for the first time.
‘Alright,’ she told him, taking another step backwards, her eyes looking at everything in the room but his eyes, because her sight was getting blurry with unwanted tears, and she didn’t want to see his dry eyes.
‘I’ll… I will go,’ she told him and turned.
She opened the door and stepped outside, but before she closed it, she waited for three seconds.
She waited.
One
Two
Three
But he never called her, he never told her to stop, to come back, that he was wrong—
It never came.
So she closed the door, and went back to her room.
She sat on the edge of her bed, her heart yelling in her ears, and her lungs inflated with so many things to shout, with so many things to let out.
But she didn’t do anything.
She sat on the edge of her bed, the clock on the wall ticked.
Tick
Tok
Tick
Tok
Tick
Tok
Her fingers itched, she wanted to thrash at that clock and stop its arms, to stop time from moving, to stop the world from turning, to freeze time and place and life and everything, because how dare life go on when her chest hollowed with an empty void?
How dare life go on when her heart stopped beating in her chest?
How dare life go on when her ribcage shrinked on her lungs, suffocating her?
She got up, and on the dresser, a small velvety box waited for her.
They didn’t even get a chance to tell their friends.
She picked up the box and flicked it open. She took off the golden band from her finger, placed it in the box, and before she let herself sit back down again, she flung the door open and went out.
Her feet took her to his room, a path that had her feet print dented in it, a path she could take with a blindfold over her eyes.
She stood at the front of his door, and she thought about leaving the box there, on the floor, but no, she must finish what she started.
She knocked on the door three times, and in almost no time, she heard him say come in.
She stepped into his room once again, but she didn’t bother closing the door behind her.
She noticed his visible rigid posture hung over his desk, and she almost asked if he was alright, but pulled back the rein and instead, placed the box on his desk.
‘You didn’t have to give it back…’ he said.
‘I don’t want it,’ she told him.
He pressed his lips together, and then he swallowed. His lips parted to say something but she interrupted him.
‘I never should’ve trusted you, not with my body or with my heart or with anything.’
‘Annie—’
She raised her hand, ‘I was healing, I was starting to heal, I started to enjoy waking up in the morning, I started finding a reason to wake up every morning, but you broke me, you broke me beyond repair.’
He shook his head.
‘And you,’ she continued, ‘should have never wasted your life waiting for me in that basement, and I should have never expected anything from you.’
‘But I don’t regret it—’
‘And I don’t care what you regret or not, because I do regret every moment I spent with you, and I… wanted to give you all of my time, even though I had barely a few years to live.’
Annie continued, ‘and I regret it, I regret it so bad, I regret believing you, and I can't… believe you're doing this to me!’ She no longer controlled her voice; let everyone on that boat hear her, let everyone know that they were crumpling, piece by piece, with every word coming out of her mouth.
‘I don't understand–’
She interrupted him, ‘Yes you do! Or no, you don't! And I know you don't understand!’
Armin sighed, getting up, placing the velvety dark blue box on the desk, and Annie noticed the level of wine in the bottle was lower than before.
‘Annie, please, don't make this harder than it is.’
She shook her head, ‘you're such a liar, a cunning, manipulative liar–’
‘Annie–’
‘–and I see you lie everyday to others, behind podiums and in letters, all you do is lie and yet I believed you, I believed in you, and I believed everything you used to tell me.’
He took a step forward, hesitantly, watching Annie's reaction, carefulif she would flinch again. ‘I meant everything that I used to say.’
‘Liar.’
‘I meant it when I wanted to live the rest of my life with you–’
‘Liar.’
‘–I really did mean it! At that time, I meant it!’
‘You're a liar, you're such a liar,’ Annie took a deep breath and retreated two steps to the door. ‘I hate you,’ she told him, ‘and I hate myself for hating you, but I hate myself more for thinking we had a chance.’
She glared at him, then his image swayed and blurred. Spots on the carpet darkened with every tear dripping down her chin.
Drip
Drip
Drip
‘I hate myself for not seeing this coming,’ she sniffed and wiped one of her cheeks with the palm of her hand. ‘I knew you didn't want to be with me anymore, I felt it, I felt it in your hands, and I felt it each time you kissed me; it felt like you were doing it just because you had to.’
Armin shook his head, ‘That's not true, that's not true, I meant it, everything, I meant it, I really did, please Annie.’
‘Stop saying my name like that,’ she wiped the other cheek with the back of her hand, ‘you’re not bothering yourself with any risk, you're too scared to lose anything.’
‘Annie–’
‘Do you even have anything left to lose?’ She asked him, but she got an answer of silence. The waves outside lulled the boat to sleep, under moonlight, under the endless stars.
Annie left that room, leaving so many things within those four walls, her shoulders lifting up with all the weight left behind. She got to her room as light as a feather, as light as the day she was born.
She didn't give herself a chance to sit by the edge of the bed, instead, she immediately climbed onto it, kicking her shoes off, and wrapping herself with the blankets.
The night was cold, maybe a little bit colder than usual, or maybe it was just her, or maybe the tears on her face made chills of cold coat her body, maybe it was the shaking of her figure that made her fight for her breath.
He usually paced the room if he had a lot of thoughts thrashing in his mind, instead, he sat still behind his desk, watching the void black sea from the small circular window. He didn't bother getting a cup for the wine, he merely sipped it right from the bottle, until the bottle got too light that it slipped from his sweaty grip.
It fell on the wooden floor in a loud thud, then it rolled on itself several times, before it came to a halt, before it swayed again with the boat’s rockabye.
He closed his eyes.
He took a deep breath in.
No, that wasn't right, he couldn't do it.
He couldn't do it.
He got up, leaning on the desk until his sight stabilized and didn't sway anymore, then he left his room, and walked to her room, a room he knew way too well.
He stood in front of Annie’s door, his heart skipping a beat and shuffling through the next three, but despite it, he raised his hand to knock on the door.
Then he stopped.
Soft, low sobs wafted from the room, like snakes that smoothly wrapped around his body, one by one, warm and soft, until they squeezed, bit by bit, leaving his bones crushed and his lungs with everything but breath in them.
His hand hesitated.
Then he let his hand fall beside himself again.
He stood in front of that door, listening to silent cries, until the sun peeked from behind the vast blue horizon, announcing a new day, a new life.
Armin turned and went back to his room, an abandoned velvety dark blue box waited for him on his desk. He opened it, the tips of his fingers delicately picked up the circular golden ring; still warm from her hand.
This is for the better.
This is the best for both of us.
Forgive me, Annie.
~~~~
author’s note:
Happy 1st of December!
I am sorry for writing this, and I’m sorry for sharing it
But hey! I have over 20 stories about these two being in love!
I’m just sad, and seasonal depression is hitting hard, all at once, sooooo this is one way to cope… I guess?
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