Simple Pleasures: Annie Leonhart x Reader

Chapter 2: Enough for You

As much as you wanted to travel alone with Annie, your parents insisted that you and Annie take your first family trip with them. Though Annie responded with a straightforward, nearly toneless "That's fine" when you asked if she would be okay with such a trip, you knew that she was not necessarily displeased by the idea of a trip with your parents. Nervous, sure, but you were too. However nervous you were, though, was nothing compared to how excited you were.

You had been hyping up the location for this trip since you started dating Annie. You told her countless stories of the misadventures you had with your family each year during your annual vacation. The location, you told her, was none other than Lake Opack—a cabin campground encircling a medium sized freshwater lake. You and your family always stayed in the "Oak" cabin; each cabin was named after a tree, but given that your family had been staying in the same cabin each year for decades, it may as well have been the "L/N" cabin.

Once your dad pulls the car onto the gravel covered road, he hops to action.

"Okay people! Let's get this show on the road!" he proudly proclaims, popping the trunk.

Immediately, luggage spills out on top of him—suitcase after bag of food after fishing pole. Your mom instantly collapses to the ground in laughter, while you stand there in shock of the comedic timing; what comedy movie were you in?

Annie takes the situation more seriously, jumping out of the car and rushing to your father.

"Mr. L/N, are you okay?!" she asks as she frantically pulls the luggage off of him.

Your dad lets out an embarrassed chuckle. "Oh, fine, fine. Nothing that can keep down the ol' L/N-meister." He lets out another chortle at his wordplay as Annie helps him to his feet. "Alright, second time's the charm, let's get moving!" he says, grinning.

Together, all four of you form an assembly line. Annie, admittedly being stronger and more fit than you, takes up the task of helping your father unload the car. As they brought luggage out of the trunk, you lifted it up the stairs to your mother, who would unpack it inside the cabin. On paper, it sounded as if it should go smoothly. In practice, though, as floral shirts, underwear, and chocolate chip muffins plopped out of improperly zipped suitcases, it was not as seamless as you had anticipated.

After what felt like a true workout, with the sun beating down on all of you, you all take a break on the wooden deck of the cabin. Annie had taken off her favorite white hoodie and is now dressed in a white, form fitting tank top with dark green pants. Your dad, drenched in sweat and out of breath, tried to point out how he and Annie were matching as he shed one of his layers to reveal a similar undershirt. Annie nods in acknowledgement, and shoots you a glance as she suppresses a smile.

You check in with your mom as the fashionable pair catches their breath outside.

"Hey Mom, can I help with anything?" you ask.

"Oh, hi sweetie! Sure, can you start putting the food away?" she responds, looking outside at Annie and your father. Your dad seemed to be explaining how he had modified his fishing pole, and Annie was attentively listening as if it were a battle plan. You felt your heart flutter at something as simple as this; for the first time of the trip, it felt as if she were part of the family.

"Sure, no problem," you respond. As you put away the perishables, though, you notice a small brown box at the bottom of the bag.

"Mom," you start, holding up the box, "what's this?"

Your mother's eyes widen, and shoot another look to the deck before pushing your hands—and the box—down.

"Oh, shh!" she says as she gestures a shushing motion. She takes yet another look at the deck, where Annie was suggesting alternate modifications for the fishing rod. Your dad was now the one paying close attention. "I made it for Annie," she whispers, lifting up the lid of the box.

Inside, there is a small cake, adorned in white frosting and red icing. The icing messily spelled "Welcome 2 The Cabin!" It was clear your mom tried to write this message herself, and the effort was touching.

"Mom," you begin to ask, "did you bake this yourself?"

Your mom giggles. "Oh, please. You think I could make this?"

Looking again at the messy icing, you are about to say "yes," but your mom cuts you off.

"No, I bought it, but I did the message myself."

"Wow, it looks great though!" you tell her. You take another look at the cake, and a gentle smile forms across your face. Even past the sentimentality and thoughtfulness of the cake, it looked delicious. "Annie loves sweets," you add, looking up at your mom.

"Huh, looks like that's another similarity between you two," your mom says, chuckling. "Who has the bigger sweet tooth?"

"Good question" you respond. You recall the many movie nights between you and Annie. Specifically, you recall the abandoned, half eaten popcorn bucket and the countless plastic candy wrappers scattered everywhere. Big packages and small individual wrappers found their way in between the couch cushions, underneath the bed on the floor, and somehow, miraculously, in Annie's pillowcase. You insisted that you didn't put it there on purpose, but you think she saw right through your lie. As good as the popcorn is, you and Annie both agree that it cannot compare with sweets—sour candy, chocolate, you love and devour all of it.

However, you do remember the time you brought home a pie for your one year anniversary. After dinner, you both could only manage one piece each. When you woke up in the middle of the night to sneak another piece, though, Annie beat you to it: turning on the kitchen light, you found her hunched over the pie, blackberry filling smothering her face, with only three pieces of pie remaining, despite the fact you put away five total slices.

"I'd say Annie," you say with a slight smile.

"Never thought I'd see the day that my child was bested by someone who could eat more sweets than them," your mom teases.

"Well, that might change when we have this cake. Seriously, mom, it's making my mouth water!"

"Oh, stop it. To your father and Annie though, I made it. Got it?" she says with a mischievous smile.

You return the smile. "Got it."

Just as she shuts the box and shoves it in the fridge, your father storms into the cabin.

"Honey, you're not going to believe this. Annie just came up with a way to make the reel come in smoother and faster! She said to..." he says, wandering into a bedroom with your mother, explaining the intimate details that she absolutely did not understand. Annie walks up to you as you meet her with a smile. The sweat lightly covering her face gave her a radiant shine; she was glowing. Though she is stronger than you, you are taller than her. You bend down a little to plant a kiss on her lips as she goes on her toes to gain some extra height.

"Well, what do you think?" you ask her. You realize now that you may have overhyped the cabin; there are stains on the wooden floors, gnats and moths fluttering in and out of the windows, and dust blows wherever you move. You are nervous she might not approve of her living situation for the next few days, and prepare a variety of retorts to prove that the lake is as fun as you said it was.

Without a response, she wanders to the fridge and grabs a bottle of water. She sips it, caps it, and makes her way over to the couch. Plopping down with the water in one hand, she looks around at the interior of the cabin, then back at you.

"Looks great," she says, closing her eyes and moving to take another sip of water.

That's good enough for you. You smile, jump in the air, jog to Annie, and push the bottle of water away from her mouth as you grab her chin and plant one more kiss.