Author's Note:
I am posting my drabbles for Kristanna Week 2015 here. In interest of keeping the rating of this piece low, I am leaving out one particularly smutty prompt- buuuut if anyone has any interest in reading it, I may post it as a separate one-shot. If you have a chance, I suggest looking up the tag "kristanna harvest festivle" on Tumblr, there were some great pieces this year!
If you enjoy what you're reading, please remember to drop a review! I always appreciate it when I hear from you all. As always, read, enjoy, and review!
Heart you!
The whole series was inspired by the song "Wasn't Expecting That" by Jamie Lawson.

Rating: K
Words: 680
Summary: Kristoff never expected to fall so many times

Kristoff never anticipated what a life with Anna would mean. It meant that his world went from being one of hard work and never enough to fast-paced adventure and constant exploring. They were always moving, going, pushing, seeing. It exhausted Kristoff, but he loved every second of it. He fed off of Anna's energy. She was his lifeblood.

Life before Anna was dull. Kristoff had resigned himself to being an ice harvester his whole life—and the life of an ice harvester was typically a lonely one. He had no intention to take a wife, to settle down, to raise a family. He had been content, he had been alive, but he wasn't happy and he certainly wasn't living.

Then Anna burst into Kristoff's life, full of action and excitement. She exploded onto his scene like the fall—his world was grey and ice, and then suddenly burning with reds, golds, and oranges. His head reeled every time he thought back. He could divide his life into two parts: pre-Anna and post-Anna. His post-Anna life had been the most fulfilling years. Kristoff was finally living.

And, Kristoff never thought he could fall that hard again. Completely, abruptly, unexpectedly head over heels in love with anyone the way he had with Anna. But when the midwife's assistant beckoned him into the delivery room, he found out that he was wrong. The second his daughter opened her eyes (blue, like Anna), and stretched open her tiny little mouth (big, like Anna), and pushed her tiny little fist up at him (strong, like Anna), Kristoff knew he was a goner again. In a split second, the teeny human in his arms had stolen his heart, his whole world again burst into brilliant color, flaming to life in scarlet, maize, and auburn. He gapped up at Anna, her eyes locked onto their daughter, and he knew that her world was aflame with the colors of fall too.

And Kristoff never thought his life would continue to blaze with color. But it did when his son was born, it did when his niece was born, and it did when his daughter handed him his first grandchild. Kristoff didn't think he could ever fall any harder, but each time, he proved himself wrong. His world, his post-Anna life was so full of loving reds, joyous yellows, and jovial oranges, he could never imagine returning to his life of grey.

Sitting beside his ailing wife, though, Kristoff found himself falling again. He held her hand, pressed chapped lips to her lined forehead, and waited. He was falling from his high. His long life of excitement and adventure was drawing shorter and shorter, just like Anna's breath. The colors in his life faded to brown, to fall's final shade. His world was ending. He was falling off an edge. He didn't let go though, and through her final moments, Kristoff whispered to Anna a lifetime of memories, a lifetime of bright colors and burning hearts. As quickly as he could manage, he told her everything he ever wanted to say, everything he ever wanted to have her hear, and everything he needed her to know. He told her he loved her, he thanked her for the adventure, and he asked her to not to worry, because her family would be fine. Behind him, stood his daughter, beautiful beyond words, positioned stoically beside her husband, the only sign of her grief a trembling hand in his. Beside her, his son, so much like himself that it scared even Anna, his wife hiding her tears in his shoulder. His six grandchildren lined in front of them, some old enough to understand what was happening, some too young to know.

"Anna," he whispered to her, "We will be okay." He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it, holding it there. "We will all be okay."

It was a shuddering breath, but it was final. Kristoff felt her spirit leave, it floated away like a crisp leaf in a fall breeze.

And Kristoff knew then, that he would never fall again.