AN: This story used to be called "The Elevator Ride." This is a Modern AU fan fic for the Frozen pairing of Prince Hans and Queen Elsa. It is left a little bit vague over what "thing" happened to Elsa. In my mind I know what it is, but I wanted the readers to have to make assumptions for themselves. Hans is wearing tight pants in this. Tight pants! Tight. Pants. And I mention doors. Let me know what you think! It was meant to be a one shot, but it was requested that I kept it going.

Chapter One:

Keeping her spine painfully straight, Elsa nervously scratched her perfectly painted nail polish off of her nails to distract herself. Wearing a complicated bun, a conservative blue knee-length dress, tights and high heels, no skin was exposed except for her face and hands. Even then, she typically wore gloves since the winter's were harsh in Arendelle. Her echoing footsteps on the tiled floor made her more self conscious. The last thing she wanted was more attention after she bitterly stormed out of that room. Elsa grew exhausted from putting in effort into something she didn't even like doing. Furious even. Furious and very… sad. Sad because nobody would ever trust her or see her as capable of anything. The night before, she sobbed alone over it. Throwing things across the room, she promised herself she'd confront them all. She felt like she could still hear the sound of her hairbrush hitting the wall when she tried hard enough. She stopped walking, but she still heard footsteps. Someone much taller stood over her. The faint smell of cologne drifted into her nose. She could already tell who the tall stranger still behind her was. Hans. He leaned in to press the elevator button. Elsa felt his barrel chest through her back.

"Sorry", he said once he noticed. He put his hand on Elsa's shoulder, as if to remedy that he had gotten so close. Hans regally smiled at her blank stare. Usually too timid to make eye contact, Elsa challenged herself to meet his gaze. She drank in his handsomeness, secretly thankful that his large hand never left her shoulder. Hans always dressed to impress. He wore his navy blazer with a purposefully faded, dark purple V-neck shirt. His charcoal skinny jeans and thick, wrapped scarf made him look like he just walked out of a magazine. Usually, she only saw him in suits. He pulled his hand back.

"Are… you still mad at me since the last time we met?" Hans asked.

"Well I still think of pouring my scalding, hot coffee on you," Elsa teased back. He did deserve it, though.

"I doubt that's the only time you think of me."

"What does that mean?" The red-faced girl stammered. Before he could answer, a stranger walked past them. The stranger's presence interrupted their private conversation. After the person left, the pair got quiet. He always knew how to provoke her. Embarrassingly enough, Hans knew what had just happened to Elsa in the other room. She hoped he'd do her the favor of not mentioning it. A silent elevator ride alone with him was nerve-racking enough. What made it worse was how he obviously affect her. She balled her shaking fists, trying to limit their tremor. The thought of having to talk to him during it made her more apprehensive. What if she had to do something worse like making eye contact with his mezmorizing face? What if she blushed? Stop. Focus. It was just an elevator ride. When they entered the elevator and the doors closed, he asked the most uncomfortable question he could possibly in that moment:

"Have you ever felt like you just wanted to quit and leave everything?"

He made it obvious he knew what just happened to Elsa in the other room. She tried to swallow the lump in her dry throat. It felt like hours had passed by before she had the courage to answer. Her eyes darted trying to buy more time to avoid him. The elevator's silver walls could only distract her for so long. She felt his eyes never left her face. Time ran out. She couldn't wait any longer without it becoming more awkward. Her nervous, bare hands began to sweat. She tried to back up, but she pushed herself into the corner long ago. He casually leaned his hand on the wall against her back, so he could face her. She'd say anything at this point to get his emerald eyes off of her. An ashamed "yes" escaped her lips. Suddenly, he hurled more questions at her. He did it so quickly she answered without hesitation or restrain in order to keep up.
"Have you ever felt vulnerable?" Hans puzzled.
"Yes."
"Replaceable?"
"Yes."
"Unwanted?"
"Yes."
"Good. Now I can use you for this plan I have." He shockingly smiled from the corner of his mouth. She grew unsure of the reason he'd find joy in her misery. Before she could ponder ideas as to why, she realized he stood too close. His minty breath brushed against her check. She envied how he was able to speak so smoothly and confidently, while she felt too nervous to even look in his direction.
"Wait… w-what plan? And…and what about you? Have you felt those things?" She figured, if he got to know her insecurities, she had the right to know his. She already knew the answer, though. She'd heard from her sister that he lacked a strong family bond. His situation was rare and dysfunctional, when it came to relatives. He put his other hand under her chin to force her to look up at him. His warmth flowed into her face, causing her nervousness to sky rocket. Had he ever heard of personal space? Of course he had. He always was praised for having grace, charm, and manners fit for a prince. But with Elsa, he seemed too bold, crossing the line. His thumb brushed against her supple cheek.
"Yes, I have," He revealed. The elevator doors opened.