I couldn't sleep with this in my head. I have no writing style, so this might be all over the place.

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Edit: Fixed the formatting the Doc Manager erased. And switched around some awkward phrases. I think.

Disclaimer: The Frozen Franchise and all its characters are property of Disney. No Profit made, nor intended infringement.

Tenants

Anna doesn't like girls.

Well, that's a lie. She likes girls; she's had girlfriends. Just not, girlfriends. She doesn't like like girls.

Not that she has anything against those who do! No not at all; it's just. Well. All her life, she's always been attracted to guys, only ever dated guys — all of three — and the closest thing she ever did with a girl was kiss one. An old one. In a train. By accident. It wasn't pleasant (nor was it a good idea to wear heels that one and only time).

Anna doesn't like girls. So when she stops in the middle of the lobby — hair an auburn tornado, clad in a loose drool-stained-T and worn out bunny slippers — to stare at the unfamiliar-yet-unnaturally pretty platinum blonde woman next to the PO boxes, Anna, for the first time in her life, questions her sexuality.

"Oh," Kristoff managed to say before a face-splitting yawn broke free from his lungs "Ou mus' be alk'n 'bout 'e nu gur'."

"New girl?" Anna questioned, fork full of eggs halting in the middle of its ascension.

The burly man nodded, rubbing his jaw, muttering about a popped bone, "Uh, yeah. Heard a new tenant moved in after that Weselton creep hit it big and gave us 'troubled youths' the finger; didn't know it was a 'she', though."

"A new tenant…?" Anna murmured to herself, then promptly punched her bulky friend on his arm, "How come you didn't tell me someone finally replaced The Weasel?"

"Ow, hey!" Kristoff yelped before shielding his arm, " I did tell you — you were probably too busy stuffing your face with chocolate to listen!"

Anna tsked, "Rude," even though it was most likely true.

Duke Weselton, formally dubbed The Weasel by the local tenants (curtesy of Anna, coining the title) was by no means a pleasant man. He was most definitely the oldest tenant in the whole complex, the age difference about 30-40 years apart. He never had much tolerance for anyone else in the building, and he had special disdain for the redhead for some unfathomable reason ("You threw his toupee off the friggin roof at the building barbecue!" "It's not my fault I thought something was eating his head!"). The feeling was mutual.

Everyone in the complex wished he would just leave, even those in his age range (the more cynical wished he'd drop dead), and when he'd hit the five hundred twenty-three million dollar jackpot, they'd finally got their wish. Many were not very happy about the catalyst.

Anna reached over the small table in Kristoff's apartment to refill her glass with the pitcher of orange juice, "So I guess she'll be moving on my floor, then."

"If ish the same pershun wer' talkin' 'bout" Kristoff managed to say before swallowing the chunks of french toast in his mouth."Then yeah, most likely."

"Hmm. Yeah."

It took Anna's brain a few seconds to process what she just heard.

Unnaturally pretty blonde is moving on her floor.

She's moving in The Weasel's apartment.

Weasel's apartment that's right across from her own.

"Anna?—Anna! You're spilling the juice all over the eggs!"

Anna didn't sleep well last night.

She didn't leave her apartment all day. Her mind was reeling at the idea of the unnaturally pretty blonde woman (she has to stop calling her that) was living within stepping distance from her house. In any other scenario, she would've promptly knocked a jingle on her new neighbor's door — probably with a chocolate themed gift — and welcome them to Oaken's Rental Complex's not-small-but-not-large family. But she couldn't muster up the courage, not when the very thought of the new tenant's presence brought on a furious flush to her freckled cheeks.

She hadn't even seen much of her; the lighting was unusually bright that morning, shielding mush off the woman's features. She only caught a glimpse of her profile view, wearing most likely jogging clothes that left her very defined stomach bare and accentuated her womanly assets and ass she wanted to sink her teeth into and Anna really needed to calm down before someone saw her all hot and bothered in front of her open P.O. box lest they think she orders from Play Girl. She doesn't even know why she's so worked up anyway; there were at least three other rooms for rent at the moment, she could be moving in any of them! She must just be sexually frustrated.

"Good morning!"

...And that breathless, smoky, oh so very feminine voice did not help.

The new voice in the room was, for all intents and purpose, very much vocal sex. Of all the things to happen on a usually quiet Sunday morning, she wasn't expecting to be turned on so early in the morning by some girl's heavy breathing. She nearly forgot her manners.

Getting her bearings, Anna titled her head just so to greet the new panting woman and couldn't stop her head from turning a complete ninety degrees.

...Oh.

Tall, was the first thing that came to her mind as she had to tilt her head up; she was nearly a full head taller than the strawberry blond. Second was pale — almost was pale as that Snow woman from apartment D12— which would explain the lack of features saw on the count of the 'lighting' yesterday. The only thing that contrasted on her was a full head of very familiar, very platinum blond hair, and her doe-like eyes as blue as the endless ocean that were staring right back at her.

Wait. What?

The blush that was beginning to recede from earlier made home on her face again as the redhead realized with trepidation that she had just basically ogled the not-stranger from yesterday, and while she knew she was nowhere near as white as the taller woman, she was sure it was showing. The stranger, for her part, looked on in bewilderment and, if her eyes were anything to go by, a bit of amusement, "…Um—?"

"HI!" Anna all but shouted in the woman's face and she just wanted to punch herself in her own, "Uh…I-I mean, good morning!"

It took about two centuries in Anna's head before the woman's resting mouth to curl up in one corner to a crooked smirk, "Likewise."

But Anna was too focused on the blond's off-balanced lips — they look like cherries and Anna wanted to take them in her mouth. She's allergic to cherries — to hear anything but the sound of her own heartbeat. When the woman's words (well, word) finally reached her ears though, she had already turned back to the grid of metal boxes in front of them.

Anna turned her attention back to her own mailbox; the small steel door marked B10 was empty, its contents held tight in Anna's sweaty palm. She dared a glance at the pretty stranger sifting through her own mail — she was wearing the same oddly alluring jogging outfit on as yesterday, one ear bud hanging off her left shoulder, and her respiratory system seems to have gone back to normal, which definitely didn't dissatisfy the redhead — before peeking at the number on the small metal door relieve her suspicions.

B12. The room right across from her.

Well.

"Goodnight!" Because Anna's stupid brain concluded the sky's sunny disposition was a time for sleeping as she slammed (and didn't lock) her mailbox and sprinted away, not bothering to pick up any falling envelopes.

For the second time in her life, Anna questions her sexuality.

"Goodnight?"

"I knoooow!" Anna whined into a pillow before jerking it away as if it insulted her mother, "Ew! Do you wash this!?"

Kristoff tossed the pillow off the bed before sitting next to his friend, "Not important. You told her goodnight?"

"It was the first thing that popped into my head!" Anna exclaimed, hands dramatically gesturing in the air, "It's not like I didn't know it was daytime because even I don't sleep in that late but I looked over and saw she was taking mail out of the B12 box and I sort of panicked because now I have this insanely pretty neighbor and I couldn't even think of a sentence when I first saw her and that kinda scares me a little ok maybe a lot and—mmph!?"

Anna couldn't tell the last time her burly friend had to physically restrain her from word-vomiting everywhere (probably the first time they met) but was oddly glad for it. A few seconds passed before Kristoff thought it safe to remove his hand from his friend's mouth.

"Thanks."

He grunted.

Silence.

"Sooo… you like girls?"

"Wh—No! Of Course not!" Anna blanched, "Why would you even think that?"

"You just said you went googly-eyes for the new girl."

"I did not!"

"It was implied." Kristoff deadpanned, then soften his gaze when he saw his friend fidget, "Hey…y'know if it's ok if you do," he laid one of his large hands on Anna's dainty shoulder, "It doesn't bother me."

"Of course it doesn't, Mr. Love-expert," Anna exasperated, but laid her hand on top of his nonetheless, "It's just. I've never liked a girl. Not like that. Not like—like her. I don't even know her! And, I guess— it scared me. A little."

"Mm." Kris hummed, rubbing her shoulder, "First time for everything?"

"Kris!"

"Ow!" He rubbed his deltoid, "I'm serious—what's the worst that could happen?" Anna opened her mouth to rebut, but couldn't think of a reason. He went on, "Why don't you just talk to her?"

"And say what?"

"I don't know, 'Hi, my name's Anna! I really wanna jump your bones, but let's be friends first!'"

"…I do not sound like that."

"So you do wanna jump her bones?"

"Kris!"

"Ow!— quit abusing me woman!"

The next time Anna sees her in the lobby, a week has passed. Her pretty new neighbor probably doesn't even remember her.

"G-good morning" she sputters out and can't help but sink in on herself.

The blonde contemplates something before shyly replying, "Not goodnight this time?"

It comes out of her mouth before she could stop, "Not until after our first date!" And she's practically mortified until she sees her pretty neighbor's pretty cheeks turn a pretty red.

The blonde gives a tiny little shrug before baring that same crooked smile at like last week, "Maybe."

Anna's in love.

"You can't fall in love with someone you just met."

"I can, and I did," Anna harrumphed, before taking a sip of coffee-flavored chocolate she ordered at their local café, "And just for that, you're not invited to our wedding!"

"There's a wedding now?" Kristen looked incredulously at his enamored friend across from him "What happened to 'I don't girls'?"

"Like you said: first time for everything." she sighed dreamily.

"You don't even know her!"

"And yet, I know all I need to know about her."

And Kristoff's countenance turned from dubious to combative, "Oh yeah? What's her name?"

…

…

"…Damn."

To be or not to be (continued).