Disclaimer:
Frozen and other characters belong to Disney.

Author's Note:
I needed to vent, and this happened...

Fallen Too Far
by Reithel

When people ask what I prefer to have as my significant other, a childhood friend or someone I only get to meet once I get out of school, I answer the latter. I tell them, "I can't imagine myself building a family with a childhood friend. It would be like marrying my own brother."

That's just weird, right?

But then, there's her.

People often told me how strong my personality was as a child. Being the only girl who had a light hair color and pale skin, I was easily made fun of. Rather than succumbing to them, I tried to have a friendly, lively, and positive outlook on life. A defense mechanism of sorts. But no matter how much I acted, there were still times that I'd let the insults get to me. What child wouldn't?

The first time I allowed myself to cry in school was when I first met her.

I just turned seven and she was six. I remember I was curled up behind a bench, certain that there was no one there to see me cry my little heart out. The sun was at its highest peak and I only noticed someone was standing behind me when a shadow shielded me from it.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

When I looked up to see her, I instantly grew worried and forgot about why I was in tears. I jumped to my feet and grabbed her hands, ignoring how some of my snot still lingered on my own from that excessive crying. She was mostly stunned then, I think she didn't even notice.

"Are you okay?!" I gasped. "Let's go inside!"

I didn't realize until it was too late that those were freckles.

Contrary to how I wanted to act around people, deep down I was a real pessimist. I was conscious and insecure about many things. So when the school nurse explained that those freckles didn't mean any harm and that I made a mistake, I ran away, scared that the girl was angry and offended, instead of apologizing.

Every time I'd see the vibrant shade of her hair down the hall or in the playground, I would go the opposite way. I was determined to do it forever, until my best friend, Rapunzel introduced us.

Her name was Anna, and she was Punzie's cousin.

I can't remember all the details that day. I was incredibly shy to meet her for real after avoiding her for weeks.

But Anna didn't care. Every day, she would say hi and ask how I was and I would stutter out my answer every time.

A few weeks after, when spending snack time with her was becoming a routine, I started being at ease and even sharing some of my biscuits. And just when I was confident I was completely over my awkwardness around her, I looked at her eyes.

Just as quickly as I came out of my shell, I clamped back up.

How could such pretty eyes exist?

I didn't know why I became shy when I looked at those bright turquoise irises of hers, or why my face turned hot when she placed a hand on my forehead, or why I excused myself after she asked if I was alright.

When she would talk to me, I couldn't look at her. My ability to speak was nowhere to be seen or heard when she was there. I think she noticed, and that must be why she didn't insist anymore, unlike the first time I avoided her.

We grew up in the same place, but we were never close because of that.

I was sixteen when I resigned myself to the thoughts of her. For years, I learned she loved dancing because she always did when there was an event in school and that she was incredibly close to her mother because of the photos she shared online.

But if people would ask me what her favorite color was, her favorite food, favorite drink, favorite song, or anything... I wouldn't be able to answer.

I didn't know what she liked or what she didn't. I was too awkward around her to concentrate on those things or ask about them. I only knew that when she was deep in thought, she'd caress her own clavicle; when she was sad, she'd play around with the edges of her clothes; when she was happy but didn't want it to show, she'd toy with the tips of her hair; and, when she was shy, she'd tuck something behind her ear even if there was nothing there to tuck.

Was it love? I didn't know.

The few friends I had who knew about these feelings told me it might be, because it had been years. But did the amount of time I was attracted seriously mean anything? Some adults said that when you love someone, you would notice even the tiny details like their favorite ice cream flavor even without them telling you. If that was true, then it was the opposite of what my friends told me.

For Anna, I didn't.

But whatever it was that I had for her, it was there.

I didn't do anything about it though. I watched from the sidelines as she had her first boyfriend. I resisted the urge to offer my handkerchief when she had her first heartbreak. I was watching when she moved on, buried herself in dancing until her body ached, and had her first girl crush.

Back then, I didn't think too much about it. Every girl had their own girl crush. It was normal for girls our age. But there was a tiny part of me that was relieved and thought... maybe there was a chance for me after all.

Then, we graduated and went our separate ways. Rapunzel went to Corona, the best country to learn about medicine, and studied to become a doctor; Anna went to Aren, the city where dancers go to compete with each other; while I stayed in Dale, pursuing a career in Architecture.

We didn't see each other for a long time, Anna and I. We didn't even chat or mail one another. I went on with my life, thinking that our story ended and I'd never get to see her again. Rapunzel would often call, telling me about how exhausting it was in her school and that the people there were incredibly driven to learn new things that could someday cure cancer. She would also be the one to tell me how Anna was doing in Aren even when I didn't ask. I wasn't surprised. They were cousins.

Then one day, I received a call.

"Elsa?"

From her.

"Hey," she said. Her voice was still sweet, and judging by the tone she used, there was an awkward smile on her face. "Are you free this Sunday?"

"Uhm," I paused, not knowing what to say. Multiple scenarios flew over my head then. Why she was asking, for one. Was she asking to meet up? Did she want me to do something for her?

"Elsa?"

Closing my eyes and willing myself to breathe normally, I answered, "Yes."

"Really?!" Anna squealed, the strain and shakiness of her voice released in one harsh breath. "Nice! So hey! Punzie's birthday is coming up, right? I want to make a video or photo collage for her. Maybe of us, going to the same places we used to go to together? She'd die of jealousy!" A second later and before I could respond, she gasped. "Wait, you are in Dale, right?"

"...Yes."

"Right! Now I know this is a weird request, but the crew I'm in will be performing there this weekend and thought I'd make the most of it. It's a happy coincidence, promise!" There was a pause, and then she cleared her throat. "I... I know we don't talk a lot, but... is that okay with you?"

I wanted to say no.

Being alone with her never ended well on my part. I was always awkward and my social skills had always been on their worst when she was around. But hearing the hopefulness in her voice, I couldn't bring myself to say it.

So here I am, sitting on a table beside the window on a coffee shop, a mug of hot chocolate on hand and waiting for her. I'm nervous, I don't think my heart had beaten this much since we went our separate ways. Maybe it's because I didn't know how to act around her anymore, or maybe I'm just excited to see her again.

"Hey..."

My throat instantly goes dry and I flinch, taking a couple of seconds to force myself to move and peer up at her.

She is smiling crookedly, multiple bags slung over her body, and a shade of pink dusting her cheeks and hiding her freckles. I can tell she is feeling awkward, and so am I. I'm staring, I know, but I can't help it. She is still as beautiful as I remember.

"C-Can I take a seat?" she asks.

I try to moisten my throat with a swallow of my own saliva and reluctantly give a nod. "Sure," I answer, my voice turning out rough that I cringe.

Her laugh sounds like the tinkle of bells as she adjusts her bags to make herself comfortable on the seat across mine. I can't look at her again, which is silly because I should've already learned my lesson.

I press my lips tight and breathe slowly through my nose, and once I'm sure I can plaster on a smile no matter how awkward, I lift my gaze and find her caressing her clavicle. My fingers twitch on the mug I'm holding when her eyes snapped to mine.

"Hi," I say, taking the initiative instead of letting her succumb to those deep thoughts.

She jumps and blinks at me with those big, doleful eyes of hers. "H-Hey," she stammers, reaching for the tips of her hair and toying with them.

I don't know if what I feel for her is love or some kind of belief I convinced myself to have since we were children. That, maybe, because I liked her then, I'm supposed to like her now, too. But what I do know is that I'd never felt this way to anyone other than her before. Whatever the name for this feeling is, I can tell just by how rapid my heart is beating as she smiles that I am not over it yet.

And I'm not even close.