Broken, that's how she is when he found her. Broken, on the border beyond repair.
Curled up in a tight ball in a little corner under the bleachers. Her arms and legs bare, a champagne halo of hair scatter around her, covering most of her figure. She hid in the shadows, so well concealed by it that you can only see her if you are within a 20 feet bubble.
He would have never saw her if his hockey coach hadn't called for an arbitrary hockey practice. It was really unusual for the coach to call for any practice this early in the year. But as the captain of the varsity ice hockey team, he had to be there. So there he was, waiting patiently inside the school, waiting for the coach and his teammates to show up. During the day, he had make sure that all his teammates are notified of the unplanned practice. However, after an hour of waiting, no one showed up, no, not even the coach is there. He messaged several of his teammates and none of them replied. So after an hour of waiting, a messaged popped onto his screen. And he eagerly clicked it open.
Yo captain!
Chill! The practice was a prank!
Hiccup hacked into coach's email and sent that email.
- Luv your hockey buddies xx
Apparently, he got trolled. He smirked. Oh well. They are doomed. He's gonna make them pay by scheduling more practice and planning more intense exercises. What can you say, you just don't prank your captain. So he picked up his bags and headed home.
He would not have found her if he took the shorter path like he always did. The weather was nice and cold, he loves the freshness and crispness of the autumn air, so he took the longer one. He wanted to enjoy the weather and quietness. When you are always surrounded by kids, and gets annoying for a while. Sure, being one of the most popular kids in your senior year is nice and all that; for the majority of the time. But he always had hated attention just a tiny bit. They would have keep calling a white hair weirdo if the puberty haven't hit him hard.
So there he goes, around the school and across the field. He was just going around the bleacher and into that tiny forest behind the bleachers when he saw something out of the corner of his eyes. There is a small gold glint in the shadow under the bleachers. Huh. Glint in the shadow. Interesting. So there he goes to investigate. He had always been a curious child. Everyone close to him would've know that. But sadly, no one knows him anymore. He and his best friend stopped talking 3 years ago after that one event. One he thought was the best choice of his life, and for her, her biggest regret and mistake. It pains him much to think about the cause, and it kills him to think about the girl, his best friend, he used to know.
And there he found her. Shaking quietly in the dark, her cream skin a stark contrast against the dark.
"You okay?" He stopped and asked, standing with a great distance between them. And of course, she wasn't okay, obviously. But it doesn't hurt to ask.
The second he saw her eyes, his heart hurts. It feels like someone took it out and squeeze it hard between their hands. He saw the cold, hurt, desperation, fear, and anger in those eyes. Those eyes he keeps seeing in his dreams. Those eyes he wants to stare into for the rest of his life, no, for the eternity. And those eyes he can recognize anywhere. It's her. She's broken.
He never wanted to see these said emotions in anyone's eyes, not even in his greatest enemy; it is truly heart breaking. And now, out of all the people in the world, these emotions had to be in her eyes. His best friend. No matter what happened between them, she always had been his best friend. Even after these three long years, to him, she still is. His heart shattered, into thousands of small, broken, heavy pieces. He couldn't breathe, no matter how hard he tried. His lungs just doesn't seem to want to agree with him. After a few painful seconds of calming himself, he finally found his voice. His heart thumping painfully in his chest.
"Elsa?" His voice hoarse. The name tasted like honey on his tongue like it always did, but it did not taste as familiar as he wanted to be. He was ashamed of that.
As he walked closer, she scoot deeper into the shadow and curled up tighter. Just then, he realized the reason.
He turned bright red and backed off, "Sorry." He quickly shrugged off his navy blue sweatshirt, hoping that it is big enough to cover her. It shouldn't be a problem since she has a really small frame, she always did.
"Here." He tossed the clothing towards her. She looked at him with bright eyes, but made no motion to put it on.
"Oh right. Sorry." Bright red again, as he turned around. He heard shuffling, and then silence.
"I'm turning around." He said, he didn't want to take any chances. "Elsa, what happened." As he walked closer, he can see the tear trails on her face, shaking so badly that it is even visible under his giant sweatshirt. She hugged herself.
"Elsa." He tried again. She looked at him, and emotions overwhelmed him. She is so broken.
Suddenly, he's seeing red. Every thing is turning into a boiling, raging bloody red. He can't think straight anymore. He wanted to kill the people who did this to her, regardless of what may cost him. He can snap their pity little necks right on the spot. And his not afraid to do it. But Elsa would always come before his revenge. After another bloody and raging silent seconds, he did his best to suppress all his anger and heartache.
Elsa. She comes first before anything.
He told himself.
He wanted to reach out and hug her, but it has been three years, and this is not the best gesture in this situation. So half-way there, he dropped his arm.
"You can tell me anything. Remember?"
I was your best friend. I wish that I am your best friend, like you are still mine. Just let me in. We haven't talked in three years. What happened. Just please tell me.
Ever so slightly she shook her hear-shaped head. Signing as he know he won't get anything out of her right now, so he extended his hand to help her stand up, "Come on, I will walk you home." And of course, she didn't take it. He knew her too well.
That doesn't mean he will give up. He is going to ask again tomorrow.
As he walked beside the silent broken girl, he, too, felt broken and his heart shattered.
