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Ymir pushed through the kitchen door and caught a glimpse of blonde hair across the room that made her pulse jump. She hadn't realized Krista had kitchen duties this afternoon. Ymir nearly chalked it up to a happy coincidence before letting out a scoff. It was entirely possible that Krista didn't have kitchen duties and she had taken on someone else's task just to be nice. It was the kind of thing Krista would do.
Stupid girl.
She hadn't glanced up or given any indication that she'd noticed Ymir. She must've been deep in concentration— Ymir could almost picture that cute little furrow between her brows as she worked. Or maybe it was just because the fire was crackling noisily and Ymir hadn't made much sound. Moving quietly was a skill Ymir had developed on the streets and proved too useful to give up.
Ymir watched as Krista bent down to stoke the fire, building it up in preparation for the cadets' next meal. Setting aside the poker, her slender arm reached for a piece of firewood, skin glowing with a fine sheen of sweat raised by working so close to the dancing flames.
Taking care to keep her boots quiet on the stone floor, Ymir advanced, admiring the view as Krista moved gracefully, setting a pot over the flame, still facing away from Ymir.
After appreciating one more eyeful of this beautiful girl's figure, Ymir swung her hand back.
"Hey, gorgeous," she smirked, slapping the blonde on the ass.
Krista squealed and straightened, but it was wrong. Her voice sounded off, and she squared her shoulders in a way that compliant Krista never did. She turned, cheeks burning crimson.
It would have been irresistibly adorable on Krista's face.
Armin cleared his throat, averting his gaze shyly. "Good afternoon, Ymir."