April 18th—38 Months Post Removal

I don't dance.

Well, at least, not in front of people, not usually. It's kinda complicated… If I don't have the mood, the vibe to it, I won't. So when my best friend convinced me to ask my crush—to ask Elsa—to go with me to the formal?

I'd told her that she was insane. Then she had lifted a mirror in front of me (lovely jerk that she is), and I remembered we both were.

So, I did it…I asked Elsa to go with me. I shan't bore you with the tale of poor, stuttering Nikolai absolutely embarrassing herself, and right in front of her crush to boot. Twas a sad, dishonorable moment…that, surprisingly…ended with victory (which is good, because my name literally means "victory"). It'll be really hard for me to forget that gentle look she gave me through the entire, stunted speech, the soft smirk tugging at her lips.

Another hard thing for me…believing that she actually said yes.

When the day of the formal finally came, and I had to clean and dress up…feh, fancy clothing and I don't usually get along. But this was Elsa—I'd been dreaming of going on a date with her for far too long, I wasn't going to let these bloody textiles get in my way. I'd sooner wear a dress—and that. Never. Happens.

The formal dance was being generously hosted by a local Hotel, and the room we booked was marvelous…or, at least, as marvelous as the homeschooler group's budget allowed. The walls and floors were a soft, semi-dark gold color, with deep green rugs here and there. The soft brown moldings running along the seams of the room, and similarly russet colored furnishing gave the convention room a moderately grand feel. It was only somewhat marred by a portion of hardwood flooring in the center of the room, but that was merely the temporary dance floor set up before everyone had arrived.

I, personally, adored it—couldn't have had my mother design it better.

Everyone else had already arrived, and were either milling about or already taking their seats. Little cards with everybody's names were sitting on the plates before the chairs, the seating arranged by grade…aka year. So, basically, I wasn't seated with my date—Elsa was standing with her grade-mates a couple of tables away, being a wee bit older than me. I'll admit, that made asking her out just a tad awkward, but she didn't seem to care.

I slowly drifted towards my chair, hands in my pockets and just trying to stay loose. My shoulders wanted so badly to stiffen up, rise to my jawline, but I told them no. Then again, my stomach was also asking where the food was, so I told it to shut up too. I tried to keep my eyes on my card, tried to meet my friends' eyes, but it didn't work. I found my gaze moving off towards Elsa.

Me in my hand-me-down, black men's suit was nothing compared to her.

She was beautiful tonight, but then, she always was. Elsa's hair was in her customary braid, bangs blown back in that fantastically unique way, like she'd run her fingers through them and they froze in their wake. She was smiling (stay standing, just gotta stay standing) and talking to someone, wearing a bright, ice blue dress with no back. But that was as far as her apparel could go in regards to the dress code's limit. The bust line didn't allow even the slightest tease, a sheer fabric stretching near to her collarbone and extending down Elsa's arms like translucent sleeves. The skirt of the dress was long, and dragged ever so slightly around Elsa's feet—save for the slight slit that went a third-way up, and seemed to taunt me with glimpses of her legs.

Since the path of my gaze went past her arms, I couldn't help but notice that Elsa was wearing gloves tonight. Gloves, I knew, were what she wore when she was nervous or uncertain. I pursed my lips, my eyes narrowing slightly at the sight. Elsa had her gloved hands clasped before her, and it felt like only I noticed a teal-covered thumb rubbing circles over the other hand…like a subtle reassurance to herself.

We weren't even officially together, and yet years of crushing gave a sturdy foundation for the urge to comfort her. I clenched my fists in my pockets and looked away, reaching one stiff limb out to pull out my chair. The other limb was preoccupied with holding a book, the hardback item nestled securely in the crook of my elbow. I plopped down onto the chair, extracting my book for its resting place and setting it on the table next to my plate. None of my friends or other table-mates paid any heed to it. I was known for always carrying some form of "Emergency Entertainment" around, and I'd actually become quite adept at holding books in my arms over the years. I could do it without even noticing, or without dropping them.

I was looking forward to having a certain someone's arm take the place that so many books had taken before.

That said someone was still standing, and it took all my (small reserve of, mind you) willpower not to look and/or stare. I was anxious to be with her, to at the least stand by her. The only reason we hadn't actually arrived together was because as much as I wanted to, I was too terribly (too blastedly) nervous. Thank goodness Elsa understood, and was all right with us arriving separately…which was good, cuz I was all but cursing myself for my cowardice.

I decided to distract myself by dipping into my book, careful not to go in too deep; the entrée would be delivered eventually, and I hated being torn from a book. That wasn't going to matter anyways, as I was interrupted by a suave voice.

"Hey, Scales, what'cha reading there?"

I reflexively placed my thumb in the book as I looked up, ensuring I wouldn't lose my place. It was Meg—of course it was, no one else called me "Scales" but her…and the only reason she called me that was because she once caught me referring to myself as a dragon, and never let it go.

I shrugged and held up the book, thumb still securely in place, so she could see the cover. I'd only had the book for a week or so, and I already knew the cover image by heart. Meg took it in for only a moment before an eyebrow raised and she chuckled. The fellow brunette straightened and looked around. "Well Scales, I should be sitting down. Dinner will be here before long, you know."

My stomach growled quietly, impatiently, and I nodded—who I was agreeing with, well…probably both of them. Meg then gave me an appraising look that I didn't understand, and I frowned.

"…what?"

She smiled, an amused one with a hint of…was that gentleness?

"Tell your beloved Snow Queen I said hello."

I blushed and stuttered, preparing to counter, but Meg sauntered off to her table before I could get a word in. I fumed in my seat, annoyed at being disarmed so easily. Normally I prided myself on being charming and smooth, but Meg was smoother, and somehow she always knew how to throw me off. I didn't know it then, but her line before might have proven beneficial. I sighed, closing my eyes as I gave myself a shoring moment, before looking up and towards Elsa.

I froze, full-on deer-in-the-headlights, when my eyes met hers.

The way it looked, she'd been watching me for some time, for I saw a shift in her gaze as she noticed me looking back. I didn't know someone could look so gentle, so kind, as Elsa did then when she gave me a soft smile. All at once, my previous annoyance faded, and I calmed down—like ice water thrown on a fire. The small, almost insignificant (though nothing she did was as such) wave Elsa gave me, her hand hidden beneath the table where she now sat, was like a cool breeze to finish the job.

I felt myself smile back, and when hers grew in response, I blushed and ducked my head, looking away and distracting myself with re-finding my place in my book (thank goodness for my superpower, I was really good at doing that).

My friends politely let me be, chatting amongst themselves while I read, us and everyone else waiting for the first course to be brought out. Eventually it was, though luckily for the servers, I managed to get a fair amount of pages in before I was forced to stop. The entrée had been up to a vote of different delectable candidates a few days prior to the formal, and I was pleased to see my vote had won: lasagna. While this meal wasn't cooked by my mom, it was still pretty good…Garfield would've been disappointed, but still good. Being the voracious pooh bear that I was, I finished mine long before everyone at my table, if not everyone in the room.

Not only did this give me time to chat with everyone, but it also gave me the opportunity to sneak glances at my date. The way Elsa demurely ate her slice of the Italian dish was all but adorable. While I always argued against the "Snow" part of the nickname our classmates gave her, I'd always agreed that the "Queen" part suited her. There was just something almost royal about Elsa—but it had always seemed, especially when I asked to be my date, that she was different around me…

My attention was ripped back to reality as I turned to one of my friends, not realizing I'd been in the middle of a drawn-out stare of my date. Thank goodness I'd been seated with my merciful friends—my ornerier ones would've teased the heck out of me, for sure.

It seemed to take an eternity for dinner to be over, to the point I ended up going lightly back into my book. At some point, I had this feeling I was being watched (proof I was only reading lightly—usually I'm dead to the world when reading). Glancing around, my eyes eventually caught a cerulean pair, and were soon locked with them. Elsa was watching me, out of the corner of her eyes, and she seemed to be fiddling with her thumbs. She had her bottom lip caught beneath her teeth, revealing her pearly white teeth.

I frowned, tilting my head. Elsa seemed…nervous, though about what, I hadn't a clue. Just as I was tempted to walk over to her, despite everyone supposed to being seated, someone spoke over a microphone.

"Okay, boys and girls, let's get ready for some dancing!"

I turned sharply, discovering that the DJ had set himself up while I was distracted. Everyone was already standing, eager to get moving and let off some steam. Seats were pushed back, some in haste, their feet arguing with the carpeted floor as they went. Luckily though, none fell over—that would've been embarrassing. They all made a bee-line for the dance floor, antsy as they waited for the DJ to play the first song.

I, on the other hand, didn't even make to get up.

Reclining comfortably back into my chair, ankles crossed beneath the table, I picked my book back up and continued where I left off. Some of my friends who passed rolled their eyes, but no one disturbed me—not yet, anyway. Someone would eventually; the only people more ruthless with wallflowers than high schoolers were home schoolers. One of my friends would pester me eventually, but luckily they were the minority. Odds were I'd have an hour or so, maybe, before someone would come after me.

It less than half-an-hour when I felt someone behind me.

I let out a growling sigh, shaking my head as I let it hit the back of the chair. By now it was a reflex for my thumb to place my book.

"I've barely gotten a chapter in, Launa! Can't I have just a bit longer?"

"I would hope your date shouldn't need to answer that question."

I froze, then cringed as I slowly turned around.

Elsa was standing directly behind me, and while her smile was soft, her raised eyebrow was sharp. Her hands were clasped together before her, and I got the feeling she was this close to crossing them at me. I ducked my head and felt my cheeks warm, so I quickly slipped my bookmark into its place and set the hardback on the table. I stood carefully, stepping around my chair and standing in front of her. I was only a couple of inches taller—tall enough Elsa looked up a little, but nowhere near a whole head higher.

I went for a smile and chuckled nervously. "S-sorry, I uh," I paused to look away and clear my throat, clenching my hands like claws and waving them helplessly.

Elsa's expression softened, the raised eyebrow lowering to a more kindly level.

I shook my head and chuckled again. "I—well, erm, I'm, I uh…" I shrugged, and met her eyes. "I'm used to being on my own, I guess."

Elsa got a weird look in her eye there as she gazed off. I frowned, my concern piqued—but before I could say anything, she refocused on me and it was gone. We stared into each other's eyes for a little while (as bloody corny as that sounds), before I gulped and shyly reached out my hands. Elsa smiled gently, and without a moment's hesitation, took a step and settled against my chest. I slowly, carefully, wrapped my arms around her, just waiting for her to tense up or something. But no, Elsa remained calm; she even lifted her arms between us until they too rested on my torso, like a soft half-hug.

A part of me couldn't believe this was happening, and another, paranoid part feared it wasn't. Sure, me and Elsa had more or less been friends for some time—I still remember, just a handful of years ago, tagging along with my mom to the sign up for the homeschool group and spotting a young blonde girl off in a corner reading a book. Wishing that I'd thought to bring one too.

Never thought it would have come to this…never would've dreamed…

My eyes widened as I was ripped back to the present, looking down to see Elsa had grabbed my arm. She was currently making her way to the dance floor, pulling me behind her.

We were nowhere near the center when Elsa stopped us; more like in our own corner of the hardwood portion of the floor. No one paid us any mind, too busy cutting loose to notice us—like I said, we were kinda off to the side anyway. One could hardly classify us as even on the dance floor anyhow. Once we halted, I tilted my head to get a look at Elsa's face. Her lips were pursed, and she kept glancing at the others like she was afraid they'd start looking at some point.

But when I glanced back at my table, to my book, considering pulling her back to it, I felt Elsa gently cup my cheek and bring my gaze back to her.

"No, don't look back." I watched her take in a shoring breath before looking me in the eye. "Keep your eyes on me."

Her tone made it sound like she was speaking to us both, but I listened regardless, nodding. I narrowed my eyes and tilted my head, though, remember that look Elsa'd had earlier.

"You're holding something back, aren't you?"

Elsa smiled, but it wasn't like the others—there was a sadder hint to this one. "Just shut up and dance with me."

Elsa gently took my hands, putting one to her hip and the other to the air, still clasped in her own hand, laying her head just beneath mine. I moved the hand of mine that had been on her hip to hug her close, politely avoiding the bare expanse of skin at her dress' open back. I was amazed by how wonderful this fragile moment felt—just holding her as we slowly moved back and forth. The song playing wasn't a slow song at all; I don't think you can slow dance when you're asking people what you're turning down for. Not that I cared, swaying gently along with Elsa, but eventually I glanced up at the DJ to find my old friend standing next to him.

Once she saw me looking, Yuna smiled; a bright, friendly sight that never ceased to make me at least smirk back. Even though I knew she was scheming something, me raising an eyebrow at her to inform her of my awareness, the smile on her face never changed. Instead, the brunette merely leaned over to say something to the DJ. The young blond man—her boyfriend, Tidus—glanced at her, hands hovering over his controls as he listened. Before long, he was smiling too; that was when I knew to be afraid. The song they'd been playing initially went into a long, slow fade-out. Once it was over, the others milled patiently, waiting for the next song for them to dance to.

The moment I heard the sprightly tune you'd only hear in a Disney movie, I knew I was doomed.

As the cheerful, excited tune of the Kingdom Dance began, I glared at Yuna and shook my head. A clear message my best bud could easily read: Dang it, Yuna, you minx.

The fellow brunette merely smiled and shrugged: Well, someone had to give you two a hand.

While most of the dancers grew confused, not recognizing the cheery, nigh-on medieval score, many others grew excited. Yuna waved a hand at me, urgently, and I knew what she was planning. This was a short song, and with every second that went by, I wasted time that could be used to make a good show. She of all people knew I liked showing off, but with Elsa by me, I was hesitant to put her on the spot. But as I remembered the words she'd just said to me previously, I took a deep breath and moved us deeper into the fray.

Elsa grew tense as we began to move in a less dance-like way, and all but stopped when she realized where I was taking us.

"W-wait," The stutter was cute, the uneasiness was not. "What are you doing?"

I looked into her deep, nervous blue eyes and smiled as gently as I possibly could. "Shh, it'll be all right." Even as others began to notice us, I brushed my forehead against hers. "Shut up and dance with me?"

It was a timid question, and a way out: I didn't want to make her do this, but I really wanted to dance to this song with her. It would pay off, I knew it. Elsa blinked slowly before glancing down and biting her lip. The moment she started to look back, I reached up a hand to gently stop her and make her meet my eyes.

"Hey, don't look back." I smiled again, a little sillier this time. "Just keep your eyes on me."

Elsa narrowed her eyes at me, and I just shrugged back.

Before she could get in a word to chide me, I lifted my right arm, bringing our dance position to attention. I set us into quick-stepping circles, gradually picking up the pace along with the song. While I kept my focus on keeping my feet in time, I was aware in my periphery that everyone had picked up on what I was doing, and quickly began following suit. Before long, we had our own Kingdom Dance going, everybody spinning in an excited flurry of dancing bodies. All with me and Elsa as the epicenter.

As promised, Elsa kept her eyes on me, and I kept mine on her in turn. Even as the world spun around us, our eyes did not waver. As the tempo of the song picked up, the simple spinning evolved into a more skip-like dance, everyone bouncing to the thrilling beat. My legs were steadily beginning to burn—they weren't used to this kind of activity. My breath was coming in shallow bursts as I danced, pushing Elsa out so as to lead her into a spin. She went into it flawlessly, spinning gracefully on her feet, the skirt of her dress billowing out around her.

As the song reached its climactic end, I made to pull and spin her back into my arms. But I misjudged the strength of my pull. Instead of spinning smoothly back, Elsa was all but dragged awkwardly into a collision with my torso. I cringed at her soft "Oof" as she hit, and my previously free-hand went to hold onto her waist and help her settle.

"Sorry…" I whispered.

I felt a hand rise to hold onto my shoulder, and when I looked, Elsa was smiling tenderly up at me. "It's all right—it was a soft landing."

I think I might've blushed, I don't know; all I know is my cheeks suddenly felt scorched, and when I tried to speak, all that came out were just stuttered coughs. The sputtering must've been amusing for she outright giggled and shook her head. Then, Elsa surprised me…she rested her head against me. My face felt searing again, but a small smile came anyway, and I leaned a cheek against her hair. My arms circled her waist, respectfully avoiding the open back, while Elsa's arms rose to hug around my back. What I had liked most about that moment? We'd totally forgotten we were standing like this in the middle of the dance floor, surrounded by four grades' worth of fellow homeschoolers.

Imagine my embarrassment when, a couple days later, I got a text from Yuna. It was nothing but a picture: one of us, of me and Elsa, hug-dancing in the middle of the dance floor.

"You're a jerk, you know?"

"I love you too, Cole. "

I, of course, refused to tell her how I made the image my phone's wallpaper.