Story Note: High school AU. Elsanna (Anna x Elsa), not incest, don't like then don't read. Rated T for language and sexual themes (nothing too heavy). Italics indicate thoughts.
Disclaimer: Frozen belongs to Disney and this story is for entertainment purposes only. The song Collar Full by Panic! At the Disco does not belong to me.
'Cause there's always time for second guesses, I don't wanna know.
If you're gonna be the death of me, that's how I wanna go.
I.
It starts with an encounter that occurs completely by chance. It just happens one day—she's rushing down the crowded hallways of Arendelle High, slightly panicked because she knows she's going to be late, when her shoulder roughly collides with another body. It's not a gentle brush or anything like that; it's head-on and sends a shock of pain through her arm. She whips around, an apology already on the tip of her tongue, but the words catch in her throat before they can escape. Time slows down as cold cerulean eyes stare at her for all of three seconds before they are ripped away and promptly disappear in the crowd.
A momentary bout of unexplainable disappointment clouds her thoughts and she just stands there like an idiot, but then the minute-bell warning pulls her out of the stupor.
Anna is incapable of forgetting how those crystalline blue eyes looked at her, blank and emotionless yet still alluring in all senses of the word. And as much as she can't forget their color, she can't seem to forget that first encounter either; how everything had simply stopped for that one brief moment. The scene replays itself in her head when she's not paying attention and she is forced to remind herself that she doesn't even know this girl's name, and that the reverse is likely true.
It's at lunch that same day when she senses a pair of eyes burning through the fabric on her back. Upon turning around in her seat, Anna's heart skips a beat for the second time in 24 hours because that mysterious stranger's impossibly cold gaze is on her. She drinks in the girl's appearance—platinum blond hair pulled into a messy braid, a dark t-shirt with some design on it she can't make out, and deliciously tight skinny jeans that shouldn't even be legal—before turning back around with a gulp. She can feel her face go ablaze and she bows her head a little in a desperate attempt to hide it from her athletic friends.
Of course Kristoff, both her best friend and the football team's quarterback, is first to notice the sudden change. With a slight nudge to the ribs, he asks, "Hey Anna, are you alright? You're face is really red. Do you have a fever?"
She shakes her head and buries her face in the palms of her hands. "No, Kristoff, just totally not looking forward to that exam in English." The lie rolls off her tongue easily, and she allows an only-partially faux groan to escape her.
And as he laughs heartily and goes on about how he "totally bombed that thing," Anna tunes him out and promptly refuses to turn around for the rest of the lunch period.
II.
She has a dream that night.
Ghosts of nimble fingers run up and down the length of her body as a mouth trails down her neck, leaving the skin it touches alive; burning, on fire. Her mind blanks as it latches onto a spot just above her collarbone and sucks until it takes every fiber in Anna's body to hold back a moan. Then those lips are on her own, molding together like the universe specifically designed them to be a perfect fit. Their tongues find themselves wrestling for dominance and as each moment passes things become sloppier and messier.
The heat in her stomach—which starts off as nothing more than a slow and glowing ember—has now become a fiery inferno and demands to be dealt with. As if in response to that thought, Anna's shirt is hastily tugged off and tossed somewhere in the room. Her eyes snap shut as her partner once again begins to trail kisses down her exposed stomach, stopping here and there to nibble and suck. Her breath becomes short and choppy; practically erratic as she pants airy puffs of breath and tries to hold back the noises that so desperately want to tumble out of her throat.
It's when her jeans are hastily unzipped and a hand sneaks under the lining of her panties that Anna's eyes snap open and she stares into the darkness of her room. The ceiling fan above spins lazily in response, pale moonlight streaming through the window cast upon its blades. Her breathing comes out in shaky intervals—much like in her dream—as she tries to calm her racing heart. The covers are tossed off of her body haphazardly as though she had been squirming in her sleep. Anna realizes that with the excess heat radiating off her body, she probably had been. The girl shakes her head, the shock beginning to settle in; it does a good job of shaking off the initial haze of arousal that had clouded her thoughts upon waking up.
Holy shit.
And while she would like to pretend that the person in her dream didn't have bright blond hair or stunning blue eyes, she knows that's impossible.
III.
So Anna watches her. She steals glances at the blonde whenever she can; in the hallways, at lunch, occasionally at the bus stop after school—literally at any moment she can because that head of platinum or flashing color of ice is impossible to miss. Perhaps she should feel a little creepy about the whole ordeal, because she's practically stalking this poor stranger, but she doesn't because every now and then she catches the blonde looking at her too.
And Anna lives for those rare moments—when their eyes meet and they both silently acknowledge they had been staring at one another and then one of them finally looks away. Her face inevitably flushes each and every time that happens.
She doesn't know why she can't just go up to her; introduce herself, shake hands maybe, finally find out what her name is.
That's a lie though, because deep down she knows what's holding her back. It should be simple, really. But it's not, because Anna has a reputation to hold up, whether she likes it or not. While her grades aren't exactly the brightest, her skills in cross-country are. She's the top of her league amongst the athletic crew and she doesn't want to hurt that social status, because when it comes to high school, things like that are important for survival.
And this beautiful stranger is an entire world away from her merely because of that. Anna usually spots her sitting by herself at lunch, tucked away in some corner—on the floor usually—away from other people with earbuds in her ears and a book perched in her lap. It's cute, if Anna's completely honest with herself. Adorable even. But she can't say or do anything about it because society says she shouldn't associate with people like her.
It's frustrating too. As each day passes, it become increasingly difficult to resist he urge to simply go up to her and say something. In a spur of spontaneousness, Anna even thinks about "accidentally" spilling her food on the girl one day—almost does it too—but the insistent tug of Kristoff's voice prevents her from doing so. It's like there's never a chance when Anna doesn't have one of her jock friends tagging along and it annoys her to no end.
And so Anna tries to remain content with the little stolen glances she's allowed. She tries so hard to be okay with that.
But just like the fact she can't forget the blonde exists in the first place, that seems to be something she's incapable of.
IV.
She can't help herself. Anna had meant to keep her little obsession a secret; she had no intentions of even hinting at it to her friends, but she's come to a point where it's on the verge of unbearable. A girl can only have so many dirty dreams about someone without even knowing their name before they go insane.
"You mean that nerd over there? Her?" Hans asks upon her inquiry, an eyebrow quirked and expression a bit skeptical of the fact she's even asking. Anna just nods when he points to the object of her affliction and affection.
"What about her?"
"You know," she says slowly, arms gesturing vaguely, unsure of what she's even asking. "Like, who is she?"
"Wait, you don't know?" Han says it with a slight hint of incredulousness.
"Should I?"
"Dude, that's Elsa Snow. She's like, ranked second in our class. Pretty hot to be honest," he tips his head to the side, considering it. "Although she's kind of a loner, isn't she? Yeah, I heard that in freshman year she—"
Hans proceeds to begin telling her all about the dirty rumors he knows about the girl, and maybe she would have been angry or defensive about the things he's saying about her, but Anna honestly doesn't hear a single word after Elsa Snow. A few thoughts run through her head in that moment—the first of which being that Elsa is a beautiful name and perfectly matches the blonde's physical appearance, and the second being about what a relief it is that she finally has a name to put on the girl. A few other things tumble around in her brain briefly but they're too short-lived to consciously register in Anna's mind; she just knows that she's stuck in some weird trance of awe and adoration as she stares at Elsa from her spot in the lunchroom.
And then, as though sensing the onslaught of emotions telepathically, Elsa looks up from her book at stares right back and Anna's entire body freezes. God, she thinks, lost in the twin pools of chilly oceans. She's stunning.
"Anna? You there, dork? Anna!"
"Hmm?" she replies, pulling her gaze from the blonde, her voice perhaps a little too dreamy. And suddenly she realizes this and in three seconds flat all the blood in her body collects in her cheeks.
"I think Kris is right, you're getting sick or something," the red-head laughs, shoving the back of his wrist against her forehead. "Yep, you're definitely warmer than usual."
"Maybe you should check in with the nurse later," the aforementioned Kristoff chimes in, leaning in to steal a fry off her lunch tray.
"Y-yeah, may-maybe," Anna barely chokes out, bowing her head down and for the first time in a while extremely thankful that her friends are some of the densest idiots in the world. Any other person would have noticed the way she's been looking at the girl.
When the boys' attention have finally moved on to something else and she dares to draw her eyes back to Elsa's general direction, her attention has returned to her book, but the faintest trace of what appears to be a smile—and she knows she's a fool for hoping that maybe it's because of her—lingers on the blonde's lips and Anna can't help but hide a grin of her own behind an embarrassed hand.
V.
Her friends are mean.
They like pick on kids who are smarter and smaller than them; the social outcasts always tend to be their prime source of prey. And to be completely honest, sometimes all it takes is a wrong look at the wrong time to end up on the jocks' bad side.
Anna knows this.
She's taken to sort of turning a blind eye to such activities of theirs. The red-head doesn't approve—of course she doesn't—but she's never had the guts to stand up and say something against it. A strange sense of fear of them perhaps turning on her holds her back most of the time. So she just awkwardly turns away and stays silent whenever the smack-talk and hateful comments start rolling. Some of the girls on her cross-country team are especially viscous, but the football players can be pretty violent as well. Really, non-jocks were better off just staying as far away as possible. That isn't to say that they're all bad—Anna likes to believe she's a pretty nice person after all—but majority rules. At least at Arendelle High it does.
It's one day in the locker rooms when she's in the process of pulling off a sweaty gym shirt that Anna overhears something that makes her entire body stiffen mid-movement. She had thought she was the last one there, but apparently that's not the case as a pair of voices echo through the near-empty room about a row of lockers away from her.
"You know that bitch Elsa? Yeah, I asked her if I could copy her answers for the test review in chemistry today and she said no! Can you believe that?"
"What a cunt," another snotty voice replies to the first.
"Right?" The word is drawled out and doused in obvious distaste. "But look at this," the preppy girl continues, a hint of maliciousness there now. There is a slight rustling and then a pause as Anna strains her ears in a desperate attempt to hear them more clearly. Finally a short laugh follows.
"Oh man, that's awesome. She's gonna be so pissed."
"Yeah, I snagged it out of her back pocket this morning—"
Anna doesn't know what comes over her. Something in her brain fogs over and stops thinking entirely, compelled by a weird sensation of something she can't even put a name on. All she knows is that upon hearing the resentment in the girls' voices towards her Elsa, a strange surge of anger powers through every vein and vessel in her body.
"Ashley, have you ever even imagined doing your own work for once?" Anna all but snarls as she rounds the corner of the lockers, tugging her shirt back down because she'd never actually been able to finish changing. The girls stare at her in shock, as though she had just materialized out of thin air and then promptly asked for directions to the nearest hospital. Then recognition dawns on their faces and their expressions fall slightly.
"Why should I have to? I mean, that's why we have nerds—to do our work for us," she sneers, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. Disgust rolls in Anna's stomach and she rolls her eyes in response. Then she spots the unfamiliar iPhone dangling in her Ashley's hands.
"Is that Elsa's?" she asks, nodding towards the item.
"Uhh, yeah?"
"What's it to you?" the other girl—a brunette named Kendle—asks with a scoff. "It's not like you're even friends with that bitch, why do you care?"
Anna shakes her head and steps forward; she grabs the phone out of Ashley's hands. "Look, maybe I just don't believe in stealing, alright? I'm just going to give this back to her and I won't even mention that it was you who took it."
The blonde just looks at her in disbelief for a long while before finally standing up with a shooting glare on her face. "Whatever bitch," she growls, shoving past Anna and dragging Kendle by the arm with her out of the locker rooms. The red-head just watches as they depart and ponders on the feeling of adrenaline running through her. She never stands up to people; especially not the girls on her own cross-country team. Seriously, what has Elsa—this girl she's never even talked to before—done to her?
She looks at the iPhone now in her hand and sighs. It's blue, like many other things of Elsa's that she's noted.
After a few short moments that feel a lot longer than they actually are, she finally puts the device in her backpack and changes, ready to go home and just sleep off whatever weird thing that had just happened.
VI.
She stares at it for almost half an hour that night. It sits on her nightstand and she just stares at it.
Stupid fucking phone.
But if she tries to deny the absolute giddy feeling that's fluttering around in her stomach too then she'd be lying to herself. Because now she has a completely reasonable excuse to approach Elsa Snow and talk to her. Even if it's only for a moment, that's something. And then there are the nerves, shooting sparks of adrenaline coursing through her veins at each momentary thought of her to-be encounter with the blonde. Anna cannot wait and absolute dreads it at the same time.
Tons of things fly through her train of thoughts. She'll admit that she kind of has a hyperactive imagination and tends to overthink things a little bit—Anna can't help it, really. What if she thinks I'm lying when I say girls off my cross-country team took it? What if she thinks I actually took it just so we could talk and then she thinks I'm a total creep? There are so many things that could go wrong! She shoves her face into her pillow and groans. Then she thinks about how even if something like that happens, she'll at least get to see Elsa up close, and even if it means Anna will never talk to her again she'll have a nice mental image for her fantasies.
At long last, an idea pops into Anna's head. Maybe it's simple and stupid, but at the moment it sounds like a great idea inside her head. And so she pulls herself up from her slouched position in bed and drops into the seat at her desk. She wants their meeting to be longer than a few seconds. She wants to be alone, too—not in the presence of Kristoff or Hans or anyone else. Pulling out a piece of loose-leaf paper, she scribbles a few sentence in the top corner before tearing it off as neatly as she can, careful not to mess up any of the wording.
Meet me in front of the library after school. I've got your phone. Don't worry, I'm not some crazy thief or anything. I'll explain, just show up please.
Is that saying too much? Did the 'please' at the end make it sound like she's begging? Anna runs a hand over her face and shakes her head. Stuffing the little piece of paper into her jacket—a dark green article of clothing dangling off the edge of her chair—pocket for tomorrow, she finally turns the lights off in her room and tries to go asleep.
Of course, that task in and of itself takes a little while because of all the various scenarios playing like little movies in her head.
VII.
Stay cool, Anna.
Her fingers mess with the small slip of paper, twirling it and running her thumb against its surface. The mere knowledge of its existence seems to be weighing her jacket down by a million pounds. She forces her hand out of the pocket because if she'd doesn't stop now she'll probably end up ripping it or making it soggy with her sweaty palm. That would only make things worse.
Anna inches along the lunch line, gripping the edges of her tray as other bodies bustle around her, oblivious to her internal panicking.
Just walk by, give her the note, and walk away. Easy.
She's so caught up how she's going to go about giving the note to Elsa that she completely forgets to grab a carton of milk. Or a fruit. She leaves the line with nothing more than a single slice of pizza on her tray and the lunch-lady tosses her an odd look, but it hardly even registers in her brain.
This is it.
Anna can see the blonde from across the cafeteria, standing and leaning against the wall near the entrance. As always, a signature book is in her hands and Anna doesn't even notice the little smile flitting across her face as she begins making a beeline for the girl. But the closer she gets, the more she's reminded of how damn nervous she is. Suddenly her legs don't feel like they want to support her weight anymore and she stops and looks around for a moment, just to get her bearings. Hans and Kristoff are still stuck in line for getting food. Elsa hasn't glanced up once.
Okay.
Tray in one hand, her other darts to the note and pulls it out.
Okay. You've got this.
Just a few feet away now. Elsa still hasn't looked up, and the earbuds in her ears and focused look on her face indicates that she doesn't plan on doing so any time soon. Her features seem to sharpen into clarity nonetheless; intense cold ice-blue eyes coupled with slightly pursed lips and impossibly smooth skin are only ten times more entrancing up close. She seems to be contemplating the words she's reading—The ESP Enigma reads the title of the book—and Anna finds it absolutely and utterly adorable.
A little over one foot away and a deep breath later, Anna finally finds the ability to say, "Hey."
And then she awkwardly stands there for five whole seconds as Elsa proceeds to not react to her voice at all. At first Anna doesn't know what's wrong, or what's happening, but then it dawns on her.
Damn it, right. Earbuds. Okay.
She taps on the blonde's shoulder then, and in response her head snaps up abruptly. For the briefest moment her eyes reflect those of a startled deer's caught in oncoming traffic. Then they shift to faint recognition and then once again to curiosity. All in the fraction of a second. "Hey," Anna reiterates.
"Oh, hi?" Elsa's voice is silky smooth and pulses through Anna's ears.
Suddenly every processing nerve in her brain seizes up because damn it all to hell a voice shouldn't be that fine.
"Yeah, uh, I've got to go but, uh, here!" Anna mentally curses her own voice for coming out as a squeak and promptly shoves the little paper at the girl. The moment she's sure that Elsa has the slip, she spins on her heels faster than she's ever done before and flees as quickly as she can. She can feel blood flushing her cheeks as she speeds off, refusing to look at the probably confused Elsa behind her.
Smooth one, Anna. Smoother than fucking ice. Good job.
VIII.
She paces in front of the pair of glass doors. The lights inside the library are turned off—they always are after the final school bell rings—and Anna watches as people flow from the hallways into the commons area and then out the front entrance. There's a little alcove that leads to the library that provides a small area of unoccupied space, and that's where she is now, hastily shifting her weight from foot to foot and walking to and fro. So maybe she's a little nervous that Elsa won't show up. Then again, she does have her phone, and that alone should be enough reason to come. Right?
That doesn't quell her nerves though. She's still more than thoroughly embarrassed from lunch and she just prays that this conversation—if Elsa even shows up—will go much better than the previous one. The seconds tick by at an agonizing pace; each one feels like an hour and when four entire minutes have passed and the traffic of exiting students has thinned significantly, Anna considers leaving and just giving Elsa her phone tomorrow at lunch like she should have done in the first place. She's so close to just bowing her head in defeat and embarrassment that she practically bounces on her feet a little when she sees a head of blond hair walking towards her.
"I thought you weren't going to show up!" she exclaims, unable to stop the grin of relief from spreading across her face.
"Yes, well," Elsa begins quietly, offering a small smile that's nothing more than a simple a polite gesture. She doesn't really look Anna in the eyes and her gaze remains cast towards the floor. "I'm actually beginning to miss the convenience of having a phone, so."
"O-oh!" Anna stutters, slinging her backpack off her shoulder and letting it plop to the floor. Her initial happiness upon seeing Elsa show up begins to wear off and now that annoying sensation of adrenaline and nerves pumps through her limbs once again. She unzips and rummages through the outer section of her bag before retrieving the blue iPhone and standing up. Anna offers the device to the blonde. Once she takes it, she stands there awkwardly for another moment before adding, "Yeah, uh, I overheard some girls in the locker room talking about how they stole it from you. So I, well you know, got it from them." She gestures at the phone.
When Elsa doesn't say anything Anna begins to desperately wrack her brain for something else; anything to continue the mostly one-sided conversation. This is going awfully. "Ah! I'm Anna, by the way," she exhales breathily, extending a hand towards the other girl. She almost sighs in relief when the blonde takes it, because by now she half expected her not to.
"I'm Elsa," she says, with a slightly sheepish smile that's much more genuine than the first one. I know, she thinks to herself. Anna swears her insides are melting. "Thank you for getting my phone. I'm afraid I've already had all of its services shut off, but a mere call to the service providers should be able to fix that."
Anna giggles then, unable to keep the completely unexpected noise from bubbling up in her throat. Yes, the nerves are still present, but very much so diminished now, because Elsa is standing there and the faintest tinge of pink is dusting her cheeks. "What?" the blonde inquires, referring to her sudden laughter.
"Nothing, just the way you talk is very...practical," she replies, smile refusing to leave her face. It's cute, she wants to add, but refrains from doing so. If I haven't managed to scare her off yet, that'll definitely do the job.
"I'll take that as a compliment," Elsa says, shifting on her feet. She looks away and clasps her hands around her waist like she doesn't know what to do with herself.
This girl is probably one of the smartest kids in the school and she's just fidgeting here in front of Anna. She's—in all her skinny jeans and dark t-shirts glory—sexy as fuck and yet she probably isn't even aware of the fact Anna gets the feeling she doesn't talk to people much. Elsa's evident display of uncomfortableness only makes Anna feel less like she's about to faint. At this point her nerves have seemingly jumped out the window.
And in a momentary surge of confidence that she never would have imagined possible, Anna blurts, "Hey, walk with me to the buses?"
IX.
Anna keeps smiling to herself stupidly. Every time she catches it she feels like an idiot and wipes it off her face, only to have it reappear a few moments later without notice. She can pretend like she totally doesn't know why she's in such a good mood, but that would be pointless.
Her family notices at the dinner table that evening.
"Something good happen?" her mother inquires, shooting her a questioning smile.
Anna, a forkful of mashed potatoes almost to her mouth, freezes. Then a grin breaks out across her face and she just says, "Yeah, you could say that."
"Care to elaborate?" her father asks around a mouthful of Salisbury steak.
I finally got to talk to the girl I've been having numerous wet dreams about and she's even sexier up close. The thought makes her scoff in mortification a little because she could never say that to her parents. She's still kind of in the closet about the whole bisexual thing. Anna isn't really worried about how they'll take it—she has faith in her parents and they raised her to be respectful of others' choices, so surely they'll respect her own—but she isn't mentally prepared to deal with her mom's interrogations upon each person she knows, including the females as well as the males.
"Oh, do you like her? Isn't she cute? How long have you known her? Why don't you ask her out on a date?"
She can just imagine that entire nightmare and shudders at the mere thought. So Anna shakes her head and says, "I'd rather not." Okay, that's lame and she knows it. She could have at least lied and said she made a good test grade or something. Anything at all that wouldn't arouse suspicion. I really am an idiot.
But her mom just quirks an eyebrow and her dad shrugs. For a moment a wave of sadness washes over Anna. Sometimes she wishes she could gush about her crushes to her mom like some of the other girls she know do. Alright, so most of them are probably fangirling about pronounced muscles and scruffy beards and certainly not about sexy-smooth expanses of creamy skin, but still. She thinks that it would be nice.
"But mom, you don't understand; her hair is like this perfect shade of dazzling gold and her eyes are literally oceans you could get lost and drown in."
Yes. That would be really cool, actually. She wouldn't have to keep that kind of stuff a secret and it wouldn't get all bottled up inside her. Anna would be able to openly express how much she likes this girl. But then the whole conversation of coming out runs through her head and again she dismisses the idea entirely. Another shock of mortification ripples through her. Nope, definitely not.
And so Anna keeps her head-over-heels infatuation with Elsa Snow to herself.
X.
That night, she has another yet another dream about Elsa. Unlike all the others though, this one is not hot and steamy and full of fleeting images of tongue-on-tongue combat. It is almost the complete opposite: peaceful and serene and relaxing in all senses of those words. Sunshine sprinkles down on them through the leaves above and splatters across their skin in a delicate mixture of shade and warmth. Despite the sun's presence, a cool breeze still shakes the air, nipping at her exposed arms; she snuggles closer to the body she's curled up against.
Elsa, eyes still trained on her book, hums at the shift in movement. "Cold?"
"Little bit," she replies, looking up at the girl. It takes a moment but she finally tears her crystalline eyes away from the pages and closes the novel. She turns her attention to the red-head, a tiny but genuine smile flickering across her face; Anna returns the expression as Elsa's arm around her shoulder tugs her in even closer. She shoves her face into the blonde's neck and a content sigh slips past her lips. Everything about it feels warm and fuzzy and safe. She can't get enough of it—can't get enough of Elsa—and right then and there she thinks that nothing can satiate her hunger for this girl. The wooden trunk of the tree they're leaning against isn't even remotely comfortable and yeah, it's just a little too cold outside, yet the scene is perfect nonetheless.
This is what she wants, Anna realizes. This overwhelming sense of security like nothing in the world could ever tear it away; like they can face anything the universe throws at them with their heads held high. It's a thrilling sensation coursing through her chest and she doesn't want it to ever end. "I love you so much," she murmurs.
Elsa pulls back and looks down at her. For a moment her face remains completely frozen and Anna worries that perhaps she shouldn't have become so lost in her haze of good thoughts, but then it bursts into this sweet smile that crinkles the corners of her eyes and all of the red-head's little insecurities are swept away. Her heart swells at the sight. The blonde just leans down and allows their lips to collide softly; it becomes this slow dance that perfectly conveys all of her emotions without words, pouring out her feelings into this one kiss underneath the large oak tree. The seconds slow down and suddenly she just feels so full of affection and adoration that she thinks her chest may explode.
"I love you too," Elsa whispers as their lips separate.
And then she wakes up.
For a few minutes the residue of pleasant emotions still swim inside her head and she smiles up at the ceiling fan. The way it lingers in her limbs makes her entire body tingle from its ambiance.
Then it passes, and in its wake it leaves behind this tremendous surge of heartache that hurts so bad Anna thinks she may cry. It figuratively claws at her chest and gnaws on the fraying ends of the mentality; it leaves her feeling empty and hollow and not at all secure or safe. The reality that she and Elsa aren't a thing and probably never will be is burning at the front of her thoughts like a huge and disgusting pimple that's impossible to ignore. Then she starts thinking about how she even managed to sink this far in the first place.
I bumped into her one time, stared at her a bunch, and talked to her for maybe ten minutes, if that.
Being this attracted to someone under these circumstances shouldn't even be possible. It isn't normal; no one develops crushes like this. No one except for her, apparently. For her own sanity, Anna tries to dispel all her thought processes that relate to blonde. She takes a deep breath and tries to clear her mind while willing the void in her soul to go away. What she needs right now is to stay away from all things Elsa Snow.
Of course she fails to do so.
She falls asleep with the memory of blue eyes burned into the back of her eyelids, the dull ache in her heart refusing to dissipate as she slowly slips back into unconsciousness.
A/N: Alright, first chapter is up! The next will be in a similar ten-scene format depicting the same events, but from Elsa's point of view. The last chapter (meaning this will be a three-shot) will wrap things up. I can't give a sure time expectation for an update because I'm busy with school, but I promise that I intend on finishing this.
Let me know how I'm doing so far! And what do you guys think about this format?
Thanks for reading!
