It was so, so strange for Anna to be able to just look at her sister, to take in the sight of her for as long as she wanted without the risk of being spotted and avoided. She'd taken to sitting for hours with Elsa in her study whilst the queen did her paperwork, staring. At first Elsa had been fidgety, a bit self-conscious even, and hadn't Anna something to do? Wasn't she bored just sitting there? But Anna would only smile, puff out a content sigh, and shake her head. And then there was touch…
If looking at her made Elsa self-conscious, touch was a whole different level of awkward. Sometimes Anna could jump into a warm, lengthy hug with her sister and stand pressed against her for a long time - although Anna always found herself disappointed whenever they pulled away. Other times, Elsa would retreat somewhere deep inside of herself, somewhere Anna couldn't reach by extending a hand to brush against Elsa's skin. During those times, however, Anna could draw Elsa back with her voice.
It had been a pure accident that Elsa had heard Anna sing. Whistling had turned to humming, to mumbling, to full-on belting as Anna raced excitedly through the halls, keeping herself occupied, not wanting to be bothersome to Elsa. Her sister had come looking for her, and heard Anna before she set eyes on her. When they locked eyes the smile on Elsa's face startled Anna more than her presence. Elsa loved the sound, refused to let Anna be embarrassed. Anna inhaled as she was drawn into a warm hug.
Elsa's scent was a guilty pleasure that Anna grasped at any excuse to experience. Every hug, every cuddle — even being near the snow queen was enough to catch a whiff of her natural perfume. She was sharp and clear like the cold, but a comfort; Anna's nose twitched against the juncture of her neck and collarbone, face flushing with a tender adoration, to imbibe the tang, like peppermint, and the sweetness, like her favorite chocolate… Her sister most definitely smelled as good as she tasted.
Divine. Anna's sister was without a doubt a goddess, and the young woman knew this not only because of her extraordinary powers, but also because of the ambrosia that she produced. Elsa was heaven on Anna's tongue — no other taste could compare to her mouth, her sweat, her core. Anna had meditated on the celestial body, each lap of her tongue like a whispered brush of a prayer to this deity of ice and snow and sisterhood and love. It was overwhelming how completely Elsa had invaded her senses.
Sight. Touch. Hearing. Smell. Taste. It seemed almost unfair that these were the only tools with which Anna could experience her sister. She felt as though Elsa deserved to be observed in a way that was somehow more than the limitations of the human senses. And Anna was achingly, painfully human. But when Elsa looked at her, touched her, spoke to her, inhaled her scent, tasted her skin — loved her… Anna felt close to godly. And in the end, that was all that she could ever want.