A/N: I should probably apologize in advance for this one guys. Seriously, it's angst-y. Anyways, I hope you enjoy. Please review!

Disclaimer: I do not own anything. Frozen belongs to Walt Disney Animation Studios.

So tell me when you hear my heart stop

You're the only one who knows.

Tell me when you hear my silence.

There's a possibility I wouldn't know.

"Kristoff," her last breath uttered, echoing lightly in the air.

And then nothing else.

He felt trapped, her arms frozen around him. It was horrific. He wished he would die. Ice hurt, the cold frozen wind whipped around him once more. He'd never felt like this before. He was heaving breath more and more; her eyes were frozen on him.

Frozen.

He was too late.

He shrieked and screamed, the terror of her wide eyes frozen open on him. He tried to move, to back away but she was completely wrapped around his body, hands locked behind him. Tears began to stream from his eyes before he could stop it as the reality of it all came crashing down onto him.

And her eyes.

He loved her, gods he loved her. He had known he loved her from the moment she dropped into his arms. He could hear her words in his head, swirling around and taunting him now. Taunting him because he couldn't save her. She'd frozen before he could kiss her.

Elsa screamed, but Kristoff could not hear her over his own shrieking of horror. She was running towards them immediately, falling on her knees before she could even get to them.

"Anna?" Olaf whispered, his childlike innocence catching as he looked up at the frozen girl wrapped around Kristoff. He stood next to Elsa, who hadn't stopped hysterically sobbing.

Ice was his life, now it had taken his life from him.

Without Anna what was his miserable existence?

Before, even leaving her behind with that scum prince, he felt hope in his heart because she was there. He had saved her, in his own way. His life would be better with just the seconds of her, just their private moments, flashes of her would last him his whole life up in the cold winter air of the Northern Mountains.

He had imagined her embrace for such a long time, but it was nothing like what he was experiencing. A dead, frozen body locked around his massive body, her arms just barely reaching around enough to lock hands. Her face tilted up, as if to lean towards him, like a kiss.

But it was her eyes that pierced him through his heart, hurt him more deeply.

He had always loved her eyes, their light and darkness. The determination he saw there the night when she marched into the barn. The anxiety in her eyes when her sister had thrown her out. The worry whenever she was concerned about him or his ice business. The beginnings of love, or something akin to it, when they stood with the trolls.

He was being detached; he could feel people attempting to help him remove him from Princess Anna's frozen statue. But tried to shrug them off, but found himself incapable.

"Stop it," he whispered, darkly threatening. "Stop!"

The guards let go of him, and he lightly whispered an "I love you" into the cold ice of her shoulder. He kissed her lightly, ripping his arms away from where they were lightly frosted to the small of her back. He could not stand once he pulled away, falling back, where Sven caught him, slowly lowering him to the ground.

A kind woman brought him a blanket, draping it over his unresponsive body.

Elsa turned to him this time, reaching her hand out towards him. "Don't touch me!" He shrieked, standing up and letting the wool blanket one of the servants had draped upon him fall to the ground.

"You killed her! You fucking killed her!" He could not control it. "Her heart is frozen! And all she did was try to help you! Try to help everyone!"

He had lost all of his control, completely shouting and tossing everything in his way aside as he ran at Elsa. Two guards quickly held him back, calling over two more because he was just too big, too strong and too driven. He probably would have broken through too, if it hadn't been for the glimmer of gold and dust of red that drew his attention to the side of the now gathered group.

"Hans," he whispered, his voice filled with an edge that chilled the assemblage. Suddenly, he relaxed his muscles for a moment and the guards released him, before he rushed against them, breaking into a sprint towards the devil with the red hair.

So this was the bastard that had ruined his Anna's happiness. He did not know what had happened, truly. However, what he knew was that Hans had let Anna die and had tried to kill her sister.

He had the advantage, as an ice blast from Elsa had knocked him out earlier, when his shrieks of horror had interrupted their duel. He railed into him, tumbling into the ground, rolling atop him. Then, he quickly began hitting him, losing control. The sight of blood did not stop him. The guards orders did not stop him. Nothing could, because this was his only solace against the frozen statue of Anna near by.

"Bastard!" he cried out angrily, punching the unresponsive Prince's face once again.

Elsa rushed towards him, past her guards. "Kristoff! Kristoff, please! He is dead! Walk away, Kristoff. Walk away." He still could not stop, so she tried something else. "Anna would not want to see you like this, Kristoff. Stop, please, for Anna's sake."

He stopped immediately, thinking of the horror that would have been written on Anna's face had she caught him in this state, blood all over his knuckles, dripping onto the white ice beside him. He had killed this man, for Anna, in vengeance. But he knew she would have hated him for it.

Pulling away, he began to weep, tears running down his cheeks. Elsa's cold arms fell around him, embracing him and weeping with him, hoping it added solace.

It did not.

Ice was his life. Now? Nothing mattered.

He left that night; sneaking out of the room Elsa had offered him in preparation for the burial. He scoffed: he thought it was ridiculous to bury her frozen body. They'd have to break her statuesque body first and there was no way he was going to stick around for that renewed pain.

Making it into the Northern Mountain path, he picked up speed.

Hold on tight. We like to go fast.

I like fast.

Her giggle seemed to wrap around his face, warmly dancing for a moment before disappearing into the dark and cold night. It was too much for him. He looked to his right, and he could almost see her, ankles propped up on the sled, braids flying out behind her in the wind, the light of his lantern dancing of her blue eyes and flushed cheeks.

Once they found their home, a small shack in the middle of the woods, he unlatched Sven and walked into the wooden hut. Slowly, Kristoff pulled off the layers of his clothing, peeling back each tenderly, his skin red on his arms, a bit of frostbite had gotten to him after all. Once he was undressed somewhat he moved over to his bed.

Lying back on the cot he knew as his bed, he closed his eyes.

Kristoff, he could hear her whisper. Kristoff.

I love you, Kristoff.

Now he knew he was crazy. She had never spoken those words to him, not even similar words. But, for some reason the Anna in his head kept persisting in telling him these words over and over again.

Days passed, he never went back to harvesting. Just living off the land now. Leaving only for supplies and foodstuffs. Otherwise he was back to his loner life, minus his love of ice.

Ice was his life.

He despised ice now.

She came to him at night, hair in much looser braids, small waving tendrils falling here and there. She was usually dressed in all white, a thin sheath of clothing like an angel. Sometimes it was just memories repeated in new forms, but whenever he was truly lost and close to the edge, she was really there.

"Kristoff, it wasn't you're fault."

"Anna," he moaned in agony, rubbing his eyes with the palm of his hand. "Anna, I'm sorry. If only I had run faster, I-"

"Kristoff, don't. It would not have mattered. It doesn't matter now. I love you."

"Please," he whispered. "Please, Anna. Just let me go with you. I-I- I can't do this on my own."

"Kristoff."

And then she was gone.

When he was delusional or had too much to drink, he was convinced she was real. He would try to grasp her, anxiously searching her out. He would scratch at his bare chest in angst, nightmares wracking his brain and not allowing him the solace of sleeping. He felt the guilt of a thousand riding on his back.

"Kristoff."

"Anna, please. My love," he whispered. "Anna," he would repeat the name again, because saying it to her felt better than crying it out into the cold darkness of night.

She was there, but he could not touch her, not fully grasp her body. He cried out in agony each time, reaching further. Thinking he could make it if he only just reached a little farther.

If only he were a little faster.

And each time, he would awake to Sven howling out in the night, lying in his bed, his hat bunched up in his hands near his face. If he tried hard enough, he could still smell her, the sweet scent of her hair. It was the only thing of hers he had taken from the palace, though he wished so badly he could have taken more.

The hallucinations slowly began to become less frequent, less vivid. And it made him weep to lose her.

But the nightmares became worse, each year around that same date.

He would wake screaming, screeching, shrieking in complete and utter horror, at that chilly feeling her body took on, of the last whispered breath, and of her terrifying, dead eyes locked on him where he was unable to escape. It was the most horrifying image he could ever conjure, seared into his brain forever. And he could not escape those empty eyes. Literally frozen to her cold, dead body.

But, there was nothing he could do.

Ice was his life. No, she was his life.

His life seemed hollow now, without any meaning. He had always been insignificant; he enjoyed life that way. But, Anna, gods did he love Anna, like no love ever known. It was cliché and beautiful and he loved every second he had with her. But he was not good enough.

He had known that from the beginning.

Still, her dying in his arms was not exactly how he pictured their goodbye. More about his lack of title and land and everything else about him. More about some new Prince who was worthy of her and danced with her and loved her. Something that made him have a chance. Something that allowed him to glance into the window of Something that would break his heart to pieces, but he would know she was happy.

But not her fucking death.

"I love you, Anna," he would whisper every night, curling the hat beneath him, as if shielding Anna from the cold. Then, quieter, "I'll see you soon."

Every night, the same words. And he vowed to repeat it until relief of death consumed him.

Still, he could almost here her whisper, when the wind blew just right.

Kristoff.

"I'm coming, Anna."

So tell me when my sorrows over

You're the reason why I'm closed.

Tell me when you hear me falling.

There's a possibility it wouldn't show.

AN: So, let me know what your response to this piece is! I hope you enjoy and love it, but also cry. So many emotions. Anyways, if you like, I'll try to write some more Kristanna one-shots, or a story. I promise for them to be much more upbeat and happy. Please, please, please review. This is not my first Fanfiction account, but my old one got all messed up and such, so I have started anew! Thank you so much for reading.

Song Credit: Lykke Li, "Possibility"

Lots of love,

Kit Gracelan!