Before her stars meant nothing. After her? Stars will mean nothing.

Then what do they mean now?

They mean nights spent outside after curfew. They are the nights out by something that could barely be considered more than a glorified puddle. They're the light that bounces off of the water's surface, reflecting onto her as she tucks the hair back behind her ear. The moments where you tried to calm down by counting every dot in the sky.

Stars mean that look she always gives you. That one with the most stupid, most honest smile, which makes you look away and try to count the lights speckled on the water. Whenever you glance back, she'll always shut her eyes and lean toward you, using her body to ask you to –

Enough about Christa, Ymir. You have a practical exam tomorrow. You need to make sure she passes. Go to bed already. You sigh; this is going to be a rough night.

Lately, more than yourself, you think about her. That's saying a lot. She's taking over your senses. Like an allergic reaction to a food you love; is it worth it? It's not like it's forbidden to eat it. It's only a horrible idea to do it and may result in death. That's how it is with you and her, you suppose. The only one in danger is her though, and that knowledge secretly kills you.

Now's not the time to think about this. Sleep. Now.

This time you listen, despite how unsatisfying your rest is.

The test lasts most of the day with no breaks. In compensation for this, at the end of the day the instructor allows everyone to stay in the mess hall for as long as they please. Due to how old and rickety the barracks are, the choice is obvious as to where everyone will spend their time until curfew. It's a few hours at most, but it's enough. You're about to drag your tired and empty carcass to the cafeteria when you hear your name called. You turn your head and pivot your body, the sight of a beaming blonde running your way washing the fatigue right out of you.

"Come with me to the barracks, please?" Christa asks as soon as she's in front of you.

"Hm? What for?"

"You'll see."

You give her a bemused look and roll your shoulders. It's not like you have anything else to do. Yet, you won't go without a fight.

"Convince me." you say, winking.

She rolls her eyes. Grabbing your hand with both of hers, she tugs it to her and kisses it with feather-like finesse.

"Don't you want to?"

"Go with you? Never." Your tone is sarcastic.

Christa puffs out her cheeks and you laugh.

"Okay, okay. Let's go." Christa beams as she tugs you in the direction of the barracks.

She drags you there by your jacket sleeve. You wonder where her eagerness came from and raise an unseen and unanswered eyebrow.

It's not long before you cross the threshold into the girls' barracks and Christa breaks away to rush to her bed. You calmly follow until you're standing above her, an expectant grin on your face. Her smile doesn't disappear. However, her face turns to one that is lost of deliberation. There's some silence before she says anything.

"Ymir?"

"Yes?"

"Could you lean down?" Christa asks, her eyes pleading.

"What for?"

"For me."

You chuckle.

"Since when do I do anything for you?"

Christa breathes in deeply.

"Ymir, get down here."

"Hmm? A different approach, I see. Demanding, aren't we?" You say, smirking.

"Ymir!" Christa says in a determined tone, albeit with a pout.

You know this routine by now. She'll ask you to lean down and she'll whisper that she wants a kiss in your ear. It's not like you would disagree to one. Might even be nice. Might wake you up, too.

"Fine, fine. What's the matt – the fu –!"

As you lean down to meet Christa at her level, to your surprise, she grabs your collar with both of her hands and brings you down with more strength than needed, her lips now on yours. You instantly, instinctively, mold your lips to hers. You know every contour of her mouth by now. She holds your clothes tighter, signaling that she wants more. It feels good so you oblige.

One palm winds up on the side of her face and the other on the side of her neck. She sucks on your lower lip, grasping it with hers and nibbling with her teeth. You give an appreciative "mm," as she continues, her tongue asking for access to enter yours. You grant it, and you two keep at it until she runs out of breath. When you break apart, your mouth curls upward.

"Aren't you too tired for this?"

"Not tired enough to forget about asking you to do this with me."

"Ask about what?" You inquire, curious.

Christa's flushed. Probably from the kissing; she's always like that.

"I was going to ask to, well, you know." she says, her voice wavering toward the end.

You raise an eyebrow. You actually don't know. She's quiet now. Nervous, perhaps?

"Ask what, Christa?"

She gives a fleeting look to the floor. A slight stumble on the first word.

"C-Can we have sex?"

Now it's your turn to be red. You can feel it under your freckles. Where did this come from? Sure, you had thought about it once or twice. You dismissed the thoughts faster than you would a dull blade. It could cause too much trouble and at what cost? You're not worth it. You're prescited, officially condemned, after all. You're not good enough for anyone, let alone her.

"I don't think you want to be with me like that." you say, solemnly.

"Why not?" she responds quickly.

"You just don't."

"I asked you to. Of course I want to."

You look her in the eye. Hers are filled with more purpose than the first day of training.

"Why?"

Christa crosses her arms and rubs them with her hands; she's leaning toward you. Her lips pucker and her eyes show that ever constant understanding she has for everyone.

"Because? Do I have to have a reason?"

"Yes." You say tersely.

She sighs.

"I knew you would be like this. It's because I like you. A lot. And I trust you enough to satisfy my needs. Isn't that reason enough?"

You were aware that she has needs, but you didn't expect this. You didn't expect this ever. Trust you? You're the last person she should trust. Like you? You knew that, but not to this degree. However, it makes you feel warm. You've never felt wanted before. No one has and you didn't think anyone would. It feels good, plain and simple. You want to have sex with her, you admit it; but you shouldn't. Now that she's offered, you realize how much you do – but you shouldn't. You're not worth her time. Something's compelling you, though. Perhaps your desire, perhaps your selfishness. Either way, it doesn't matter. You swallow nervously and clutch at the edge of your jacket sleeve; you twist it around between your fingers before you close your eyes and take a deep breath. When you open them, you stare her directly in the eye.

"Then get out of your uniform."

Christa seems a little shocked at first, but then she smiles shyly.

"You will, then?"

You're not one to stutter. For once you almost do. This is your chance; you have one last shot to stop yourself. Come on, Ymir.

You avert her gaze, heat moving all the way to your ears and neck.

"Yes."

It's not right away. Christa does stand and start to strip, though. Her boots come off and she shrugs out of her jacket. Once that's off, she works on taking off the bottom cloth of the uniform, shaking her hips in a seductive manner. She unbuckles the leather straps and allows them to fall to the ground with a clink from the metal. You can't help it. You watch her longingly, hungrily. Your tongue runs over your lips. If you're really going to be doing this shouldn't you be helping?

"Wait."

Christa stops and looks at you instead of the floor, her blush spreading.

"Let me help."

Her eyes widen, yet her mouth curls up in a slight smile.

"If you would like to."

You realize you're smiling nervously. You walk over to her, move behind her, and ease yourself onto the bed. She angles her head to see you as best as she can from her position. You leave your legs open so that there's enough room for her.

"Sit." You command.

Christa obeys. She places herself on the bed so she's in between your legs, pushing the back of her body into you. With shaky hands, you move one hand toward a button and the other to the bottom of her shirt. You begin to kiss her neck; simple, soft pecks. You lift up her shirt slightly, letting your hand glide up her stomach while unbuttoning the top buttons by her collar. Her nails are touching you lightly. They tickle as they skate along your wrist and the back of your the hand on your other arm.

You realize how big your hands are compared to hers. It disturbs you; how much bigger they are. How different you are from her. You could easily hurt her. Yet, when you hold her like this, you know it's the last thing you would do. As the last button falls to the side, you grab her shirt to keep the sides together so her breasts aren't revealed just yet; you're trying to prolong this. It's then that you realize.

She's not wearing a bra.

Guess she planned that. Well, that makes things easier.

You jump a little when her palm touches your thigh. You hadn't realized that she had stopped touching you since you were engrossed in unbuttoning her shirt and her lack of an undergarment.

Her arm reaches around your neck, her head cocked to the side, alerting you to what she wants. You place your lips against hers. It makes you relax significantly, feeling something familiar in a situation you're not used to. Her tongue enters your mouth as you reach for the button of her pants, undoing it easily. It must be hard for her to kiss with her arm like that. Out of courtesy, and after you think she's satisfied enough, you break the kiss.

You go back to her neck, using more than just pecks. You suck and nibble, licking and breathing on the areas after you've done so. Her breath hitches and you hold yours for a second. You let go of the front of her shirt and it falls to each of her sides. What are you doing, Ymir? You shouldn't be doing this. You shouldn't be touching her like this. But you are. You are and you're grabbing her chest with one hand, using your thumb to rub over her nipple gently, as gently as you've been touching her the whole time, and cupping her below, massaging.

Christa squeaks and a knot forms inside of you. You don't know what to make of it. However, you do know to take it as encouragement. You allow your hand to venture beneath her underwear ; it's not as wet as you thought it would be, or rather, as you would've hoped it would be. No matter. You'll fix that. Dipping your finger lower to wet it, you search upward to find her clit and then rub in tiny circles. She moans and grabs your thigh tighter, placing the other hand on your other leg.

Apparently you're doing something correct. Kissing and licking back up her neck and outer jaw, you eventually reach her ear. You lick it and suck with care, trying not to be too rough. After, you let out a controlled breath; a small stream. She shudders. You want to hear her voice. Her heavy breathing is nice, but it doesn't beat that squeak you heard earlier.

"Talk to me, Christa."

A late response.

"What?" She replies, dazed.

"Tell me what you like. What you want."

"I, uh," a tiny whine interrupts her sentence as you absent mindedly stroke her.

"That. Keep doing that."

You try to remember what you did a moment ago. When she whines like she did previously, you know you found the spot. Victory.

"Got it."

You do as you're told, hushed directions starting to become louder. That knot in you hasn't gone away and it's getting worse – more of a heat than a knot at this point. She's wetter now and, accordingly, you move your fingers down from her clit; you insert one up to the first knuckle. Christa makes a sound similar to a gasp, a sound that sends a warm feeling up your spine. it turns into a "ahhh," pitched higher as you put your finger in farther. You place pecks every where you can on her. You push in, pull out, push in, pull out, creating a rhythm quite a bit slower than the beating in your chest. As she becomes looser you debate adding another finger. Christa asks you to before you find an answer.

"Ymir, please, more," she begs.

Fuck, she sounds amazing. More amazing than you could've imagined. You put another finger inside of her and start pumping faster. You're becoming more adept at the movement – she's contracting a lot around you.

Maybe if you play with her like you were earlier, she'll feel even better.

With that in mind you take your other hand away from her breast and move it down her body; you tease her clit when you arrive there, rubbing above it and around. Her moans turn to restrained wails as you continue your ministrations. You go faster and harder as you suck on her shoulder, leaving a large hickey on her body; her grip is hurting you but you don't care because she's shaking on you, her whole body is quivering and she's panting heavily and she's grinding against your hand; you can't stand how sexy this is and you want her to say your name so badly that you could –

"Ymir, Ymir I'm going to –"

The wetness surrounding your hand increases. You take your fingers off of her clit, but help her ride out her orgasm with the hand inside her. You decrease your speed until, finally, you pull out. Without thinking about it you lick your hand clean. She lies back, completely relaxing against you. Her clutch on your legs loosens as she winds down. It's a couple minutes of Christa calming herself by the time she says anything.

"Wow."

"That good, huh?" You reply, some of your pride sneaking into your voice.

"Honestly? Yes. Yes it was." she says dazed. Christa's hair is starting to stick up in certain places, yet some of it is sticking to her neck from the sweat. Her body, from the back at least, is still flushed. Her breathing is heavy; as the minutes go on she calms down.

"I'm glad." You mean that. Honestly. You put your arms around her waist, hugging her. She traces shapes and patterns onto your arms with her nails. It's comfortable. You wouldn't mind staying like this forever.

"Your turn."

You hum, not really concentrating on what Christa is saying.

She stands up, removing your arms from around her. You raise an eyebrow.

"What are you doing?"

"I said it's your turn." she says, her tone cheerful and her face showing how much she wants this.

The idea of her touching you hadn't occurred in your mind. You watch as she buttons up her pants – you're okay with only satisfying her. It was your pleasure. You can't deny that you want it, however, because you're no liar.

"It's okay. You don't have to." you say, waving your hand back and forth in the air.

"Of course I do. It's only fair, you know."

"I'm fine as long as you're satisfied." you point out.

"Don't you want me to?" she asks, her arms crossed now.

"That's not the point, what I'm saying is –"

"Then you want me to." she says as if it were matter of fact.

"I do, it's just – Christa!"

Suddenly, she's pushing you down by your shoulders; your head bounces on the bed just a bit. She kisses you aggressively this time. She puts her entire body weight on you as she pushes into you, her hands roaming all over you, sucking and licking your lips. When she sucks hard on your bottom lip, she takes it with her as she moves back. She hovers above your mouth with her own, a sultry look on her face. She's waiting patiently, a smirk gracing her features . She wants you to come to her for more.

You have to admit – you're extremely turned on. Between earlier and this, your logic is rushing away as fast as feelings are rushing to your groin. You close the distance between your mouth and hers. Sooner than you thought they would be your clothes, including your bra and underwear, are off. You didn't even fully undress Christa – how did the situation turn around like this?

You kind of forget about thinking when she moves down from your mouth to your neck, biting roughly. Your legs are off the bed, feet touching the floor. She sucks on your collar bone and you groan. When she moves down to your chest she massages both with her hands.

Soon, her mouth finds your nipple. Her finger pinches too hard on your other one but you don't mind because this is highly enjoyable. Your whole body is probably flushed. She probably saw your expression of need and decided to act fast; she moves down your body swiftly, kissing and licking down your stomach until she eventually is off the bed to reach your legs. Her knees are now on the floor. She inches closer to you and your thighs and places small kisses and licks upward, close to your center, and then back down. You can barely take it anymore. You wish she would just get it over with because you want it. You want it now. Patience is her virtue, not yours.

Her tongue, at long last, touches your core and mother of fuck does it feel /right/. She does what you did before; she teases around your clit. Christa varies from firm to soft to whatever the fuck you can't identify due to the fact that you're practically incapacitated. You grab her hair with your hands, tenderly because you don't want to hurt her, and push down slightly. Your hips buck when she goes lower, darting in and out of you, exploring every inch of you. You look down and her eyes meet yours. The pure lust you see in them is alarming, yet arousing. You're seeing white and you don't know how much more of this you can take. You mutter "fuck," and "Christa," over and over again. She reaches her tongue up top and glazes over your clit and that's it for you. You're gone.

"Christ – ahh!" you moan out, your pitch going up toward the end.

You let go of her hair and grip the sheets with both hands instead. Her tongue still works inside of you, licking and sucking to get it all. You lift your head to look at her. Christa's already ahead of you, looking up at you, grinning and licking her lips. Your face is heated and your breath is ragged; she climbs onto the bed, out of breath herself. Still, straddling you, she bends and asks you something.

"Kiss?"

You put your hands, clammy as they are, on her face and bring her down for a long, and sweet, closed mouth kiss. After that she moves herself over to your side and curls up. Lucky; she's short enough to only have her feet be off the bed with her knees tucked into her like that. She cuddles up to you. A peacful quiet reigns over the two of you for a while.

"Ymir?" she says as she prods your elbow.

"Hmm?" you reply lazily.

"Thank you."

You turn your head to her and smile genuinely; a rare occurrence.

"Nah. I should thank you."

Christa giggles, bubbly and loud. She snuggles up against you and she closes her eyes.

Your eyes are heavy, however, you can't sleep because you'll need to wake Christa up. No one can see the two of you like this. It can't hurt to let her sleep for a few minutes, though. You would hate to think right now; You want no thoughts. A simple, blank slate isn't too much to ask for. But thinking is your forte. What did you just do?

You made her happy.

And she deserves to feel that way.

Christa helps the other trainees whenever she can; ulterior motives aside, you know she enjoys doing favors for others. She's naturally kind like that. She's sincere. Then there's you – self-centered and uncaring. The only person you care about is Christa, yet even that is for your benefit to an extent. Everything that you do with her, everything, is a double edged blade. It's exhilarating. It makes you happy, as odd as it sounds. It makes you feel human and nothing else can do that. But you know what will happen.

You're going to hurt her in the end.

It was a bad idea. Now she'll be more attached to you. Now if you decide to detach, because, face it, you're stuck on her at this point, she'll be hurt worse than before. Even if it's what's best for her. You could lie and say that you care nothing for her but that expression of pure anger and sadness that you would receive – that's something you can't bear the idea of. Plus lying is not true to how you are.

Your head is whirling and spinning; you can't manage it right now. Not like you can normally. In the end, you lie there trying to calm down by imagining doing what usually satisfies you. You can truly concentrate on those moments – those stars – as if they were reflecting off her face as you saw it today. Your time with Christa won't last forever. You know that. But for now?

You'll settle for counting stars.