Italics are flashbacks.
Choices ... Too Late
If his failure had cost him one priceless thing, It would be her.
If fate had saved all cosmic mockery for one person, It would be him.
For he fell in love with the one person he would never attain.
He had lost his chances with her, the moment he drew his dagger and leapt ferociously to stab her in the back, the moment he left her sister to freeze.
He has lost his chance.
And now he watches her, so close, yet so far as her life swiftly moves on.
As she stands regally besides the now prince of consort.
He is freezing.
He doesn't know when she crept up on him like that.
Sure, there was a spark of attraction, a hint of possibilities, but it was so slim, so dim, merely trifle (and he royally screwed it up).
He doesn't know why she let him in again, or why she pardoned him.
He doesn't want to interpret it.
He doesn't want to think that maybe behind all those frigid calculating conversations, those ostentacious pretences and phoney subtleties and mannerisms, there may be something more.
He tells himself that those hues and cues and those speechless conversations and those lingering eyes are a figment of his imagination.
She was a Shadow, she was a Star.
She was his redemption and purgatory at the same time.
The torture that he has to endure for he can't live without.
A frozen fire.
He finds it hard to comprehend all the stealthly fleeting circumstances that built up to this point, the point where he is standing his ground courageously, fighting in the navy for Arendelle or rather its Queen.
The point where he is laying his life for her husband.
The point where he is choking in smoke of his burning vessel.
The point where he feels he is frozen, so utterly frozen.
Or maybe he does.
If her world was deficit of something, it would be him.
If fate had given someone everything yet nothing at all, it would be her.
For she fell in love with the one person she could never forgive.
The one person she could hardly trust.
After all, she had lost all chances with him, as though there had ever been any to begin with.
And she doesn't comprehend how she absolved him and accepted him in, she doesn't comprehend how she reached this point..
This point where She is burning.
Or maybe she does.
She felt she was choking.
She felt exposed...bare.
"I want to see him" she whispered
"They couldn't retrieve the body" Anna said
She was burning, so why did she hear Anna's teeth chatter.
She finally grieves for She fell in love with the so intelligent yet equally so stupid Hans.
She fell in love with the one person she could never have.
The one who wasted his choice.
The one who lost his chance.
The fallen prince, the treacherous yet loyal Hans.
The frozen yet fiery Hans.
The Everything and its exact adversary all at the same breath Hans.
And Now he was gone yet his presence is still ever so compelling and evident and lingering and...
She feels she is burning.
The memory of him, the silhouette, the lament.
The all of her so desperately yearning for him.
The memory she clings onto so dear
Despite how painful it is.
Boiling Ice.
"I love him"
"You shouldn't" Anna deadpanned
"I can't"
"I miss him"
"I know" Anna replied.
She never thought that her sister harboured such strong affections to ...him.
Somehow she wasn't surprised, she kind of picked the breadcrumbs long ago.
She knew Elsa would collapse under the weight of such complicated relationship.
She knew she was walking the fine line between control and havoc, between sanity and insanity.
And now with his demise ... She would lose it with the slightest blow.
"I am afraid I will forget him"
"You won't"
"I find it hard to recall his voice, It is fading"
"It isn't about remembering his voice or features,Elsa, it is rather the intensity of his presence, the feelings of warmth and love you felt around him, the passion,the happiness, the grief, the hurricane and swirlwind of
Weirdness, dumbness, hope, momentous hate, despair and madness all, you never seem to forget this, Elsa"
"I hate me, Anna, for loving him, I hate me for hurting him, I hate me for losing him, I hate me for holding onto him, I hate me for neglecting my hu..."
"Don't do this to yourself, Elsa, you don't deserve this"
"I should have perished at the sea with our parents"
"Don't say this, Elsa" Anna's tone was grave now
"I am sorry, I Just can't breathe"
"You have me, You have the Kingdom , You have your husband and your son little Hans, A Whole lot of responsibilities to carry, You have to endure, you have to"
The queen buries the sorrow deep in the well.
The queen never slips, never let it go.
She doesn't make the sky weeps nor the wind howls.
She doesn't plunge the land in eternal winter.
She doesn't lose control, even when the sorrow is consuming her, driving her to the edge of the Abyss.
"I will let you out if you help me control it"
"It is all what you want it to be, all your mind to reign, sort yourself, your priorities out and everything will be fine, It is all in the tip of your fingers" his hand brushed against hers, and it felt painful, the cold and hot touching felt surreal, felt wonderful , addictive but still excrutiating.
Warmth and chill were never meant to meet.
Now day by day, they both bleed.