Notes 1

Hair: Dyed orange and red

'We finish each other's sandwiches' shirt: Owned

Bullshit: Written

Hotel: Trivago

(Yes, I love this trash man. so. very. fucking. much. Through the entirety of my friend dyeing my hair, we both agreed it looked like she was slapping hot sauce in my hair ... but, it is really pretty, I've lost count of the number of times I've held the tips of my hair in the sunlight and just admired the colour!)

(Also, if you want the shirt, go get yours on the Redbubble website!)

Notes 2: I've been in love with Gustin Puckerman's fanfic You and the Rest since I was … eighteen? So yeah, I decided to re-read it for the third or fourth time since stumbling back into the Helsa fandom. If you see similarities between these fics, this is why, because I love love love it. But it's not an imitation because (1) that's plagiarism and (2) my writing pales in comparison to all the other Helsa writers, they've been writing Helsa for ages and I've been giving it a try since … July? So, yeah.

;;

white knight syndrome

;;

white knight syndrome meaning:

a person with an attraction to 'endangered' women, usually women with emotional issues or ones who have histories of abuse, trauma or addiction issues. The 'white knight' frequently has an overly idealised and romanticised vision of the women he focuses on and sees himself as impossibly good and pure.

;;

Gimme love, gimme dreams, gimme a good self-esteem,

Gimme good and pure, what you waiting for?

– Marina and the Diamonds, Blue

;;

i

;;

"Are you nervous?" A voice asks.

Lifting her blue eyes away from the screen of her assigned computer, Elsa pauses mid-click with her right hand and her left hand stops fiddling with the lanyard linked around her neck. Turning to her friend, Fa Mulan, Elsa answers, "Am I that obvious?"

Mulan manages a soft smile while looking at Elsa. There's a motion of a half-heartedly quirk on the blonde's lips. Elsa's attempting a small, shaky grin but it's unconvincing, it's the opposite of a winning smile.

"I wouldn't say it's 'obvious' but … you're not exactly concealing it." Mulan notes, pushes herself from her own desk then spins a 360 circle in her swivelling hair.

Maybe it's to pass time, maybe it's to give her words another think. Or maybe it's to let the tension die down a little. But, either way, Elsa doesn't say anything back. She only stays mute and watches the dizzy action – Elsa waits for something to happen. Maybe for Mulan to stop spinning and say more or for maybe something worse, something irrational; maybe for Mulan to fall sideways, hit her head and –

Subconsciously, Elsa squeezes her eyes close. Don't be stupid! She tells herself, feeling her fingers curl and her fingernails dig into her skin. One of those things … one of those things won't happen! You're being stupid!

"Elsa?" Mulan stops turning after three rounds.

"Y – Yes?" Her head is spinning.

Mulan places a small hand on her desk, steadies herself and opens her mouth to add another say, probably not noticing Elsa's mini moment due to her own world spinning. Either way, Mulan doesn't manage anything because another voice enters the conversation – it's loud and energetic and, if it could be described as a colour, it would be pink. Bright, shocking pink (and everything that Elsa isn't; Elsa's a pale sort of fading blue).

"Hi, sugars!" Rings a Southern drawl voice. Attached to that greeting is none other than Charlotte La Bouff, who smiles and waves, bright as the early sun in the sky.

"Hey, Lottie." Mulan waves back, now looking at the bubbly Southern blonde.

Something about Lottie's big personality just spreads over the room and immediately calls all eyes on her. Usually, no one hesitates to give Lottie the attention she shamelessly demands. However, Elsa finds her gaze slipping and shifting slightly to the left before looking at Lottie in the eyes. Blue against blue. Elsa's always thought of herself to be the type of person who's terrible (absolutely terrible) with loud, energized people (or maybe just people in general).

"Good morning, Charlotte." Elsa answers politely, trying to meet Lottie's eyes.

"Oh – 'Charlotte'? Now, now, Elsa, honey, I've told you to call me 'Lottie'. It rolls off the tongue better, doesn't it? There's no need to be so formal. Besides, we're friends, aren't we? It's only natural for you to call me so." Lottie says, smiling like her usual chipper self.

There is no force behind Lottie's words, no malice, no ill intentions whatsoever, but Elsa can't help but feel bad. Can't help but feel her heart race and sense a tinge of disappointment behind Lottie's speech. It's small, oh-so small, but this dip sends Elsa into a panic. Her anxiety tells her she's already messed up this simple morning routine and there's no way to redo it (even though there always is another way).

Her pale hands shaky lightly, along with her lips. Get yourself together! Elsa scolds herself in her head. God, why am I like this?

Lottie waits for an answer and Mulan stares too.

Elsa hates this part about herself. Hates how she's always been afraid of ruining things – from simple recipes to arts and crafts to blooming friendships and important projects – and then freaking out when things don't go as planned.

"I –" Her lips shake further.

Looking at the two, Elsa and Lottie mirror each other a lot – both criminally blonde hair, both possessing eyes that are irritatingly blue; so bright and sharp, both skinny young ladies – but the resemblance stops there. It's only there. That's just about it, only on the surface.

'We're friends, aren't we?' Lottie's question thunders in Elsa's head, pulling her back to reality, as she tries to not let the pause linger.

Kicking herself on the inside – again – Elsa scolds herself for not mulling over her words before speaking. And then, while feeling a lump in her throat, something Elsa swallows down several times a day, she finally answers Lottie's question after careful consideration, "W – We are friends."

"Then calling me 'Lottie' will do. There's no need to be shy, darlin',"

Elsa resists the urge to fiddle with her lanyard again. In her head, this is a do-over, a 'try again' chance. "Good morning, Lottie." She says shyly, almost in a childlike manner, like hiding behind her mother's long skirt and curtains.

"Aw, ain't you a precious one? Good morning to you too!" Lottie hollers, glossed lips now spread into a familiar wide smile. It gives Elsa some reassurance before Lottie turns to a new topic and thankfully buries the small hiccup, "Have any of y'all seen Tia?"

Mulan shakes her head, answering the question (something Elsa is grateful for because this just means less spotlight and mistakes on her end), "No. Have you tried the break room? Maybe Tia's gone to grab some coffee?"

"I've already looked." Lottie muses then looks at Elsa for some kind of answer, it makes her stomach flop.

She's giving you another chance. Elsa thinks and tries not to disappoint the blonde again.

"O – Oh, uh," Her voice quivers. This time, Elsa does fiddle with the lanyard around her neck, touching the smooth plastic edges of her clipped ID. "Maybe Tiana's printing things?" Elsa suggests, using Tiana's full name. It's so difficult for her to loosen up. "Tiana said something about photocopying some documents."

"Gosh, that old thing?! It's as slow as molasses! I swear it gets slower when it senses urgency." Lottie quips then brightens. "Thanks, hun, you're so smart, I wouldn't even guessed Tia was there! I'll go take a peek and see if she's there, then I'll drop an e-mail to whoever's in charge of that old thing and make sure it's replaced."

"Good idea!" Mulan chimes. "I think I once spent twenty minutes standing there just to print five pages. Ten out of ten wouldn't want to do that again."

It's easy banter but Mulan's words fly over Elsa's head. Instead, Elsa focuses on Lottie's statement. It sticks to her like glue. "You – You'd do that?" Elsa asks but immediately wants to slam the words back into her mouth when Lottie's face shifts.

"What? E-mail the higher ups?" Lottie asks back. "You bet cha! I mean, why not?" There's a twinkle in her blue eyes.

'Why not'? Elsa thinks, eyebrows furrowing, worrying. 'Why not'? Because –

"The worst they can tell me is 'no'!" Lottie continues talking before Elsa can finish that destructive thought. "I know we're just interns but I don't see any problem in asking! If it works out then we get a new printer! If it doesn't then we're just stuck with the same old thing, no harm done! Besides, The Southern Isle is loaded."

"She's got a point." Mulan nods her head.

"Right? I bet a new printer won't cost much compared to what the company spends on –" Lottie stops bobbing her head along to the conversation then gasps. Elsa gasps too but doesn't get to react, not for long, at least, before Lottie snaps her fingers suddenly like she remembers something. "Right, Tia!" Lottie utters then bids a "I'll see you girls later! I gotta tell Tia some juicy gossip before the day officially starts! Maybe we can catch up during lunch?"

"Yeah, sure, Poster-child!" Mulan calls, a teasing nickname for the block Lottie and Tiana are in – the creative graphic designers (something Elsa's always wanted to do but backed out last minute to study business and accounting instead).

"Number nerds!" Lottie jokes back then turns into a section of the office building.

Elsa stares at for what seemed like forever, watching Lottie's pink skirt swish, forgetting what she was even doing before Lottie came.

"Tiana's making friends fast, isn't she?" Elsa says, letting her tongue slip for the second time today. She can imagine Tiana smiling at Lottie once the pink loving-blonde finds her by the printer and linking arms before saying 'Let's go, Lottie!' They've only known each other for a month!

"Hmm," Mulan hums. "You better do the same; make friends, I mean. I won't be here for long."

Elsa turns her head, angling her chin in a way that doesn't allow Mulan to see a true sadness behind it. Elsa responses with a somewhat teasing voice, a mask, "Only because you started earlier than Tiana and I."

"True." Mulan smiles.

Mulan had started her internship a little earlier, decided to write her resume in advance and receiving news about the internship shortly after. Tiana and Elsa followed about a month later, but – like Elsa said – it seems Tiana was making quicker friends than Elsa despite the fact that both girls had started their internship the same time.

"But, you know me, Elsa," Mulan chimes, making Elsa think, Do I? "I had to start working. Imagine if I didn't!"

Elsa does consider this. "You would have probably turned into a couch potato."

"See! You do know me!" Mulan nods. "I would have totally turned into a lazy glob. I'd probably skip going to the gym altogether and just binge watch a series on Netflix or something. I heard Riverdale is good, apparently, they burst into song? And, oh – my parents, gosh – they would have kicked my butt, call me 'useless' and threaten to make me to pay rent."

A sharp feeling twists in Elsa's stomach at that. She knows Mulan is just exaggerating but she can't help but worry. Elsa wonders if anyone feels like she's a burden.

Mulan then chooses this moment to turn to the original topic they had earlier, of are you nervous?, "By the way, are ready to meet the thirteenth prince?" Mulan even laughs a little at this like it's an inside joke.

Honestly, this office is just full of nicknames. Everyone is so casual with each other but Elsa can't help but remain firm and uptight. She feels like the black sheep of the company.

Knowing that she can't lie to Mulan – they've been good friends since first year – Elsa says, "Uh, maybe." Though she really wants to say 'no'.

Because Elsa knows nothing of the person she's supposed to shadow – Johansen Westergaard, the thirteenth successor (or 'prince' as the office likes to joke) of The Southern Isle. Elsa's resume was impressive to the point that the company had decided to let one of the Westergaard sons mentor her personally, from time to time, at least – he is a busy man; only managing just enough time to squeeze moments to her under his wing or whatever. Unfortunately, 'the thirteenth prince' was out of the country when Elsa had started her internship. But he's coming back this week – today, actually – and Elsa has already managed to get one month of working experience under her belt, so hopefully she wouldn't drag him down (too much).

Mulan quips, sensing her friend's glum demeanour. "Come on, don't let the gossip get to you! They're just rumours!"

"Really?" Elsa asks because – oh yeah, the rumours! Elsa completely forgot about that! A big part of her wants to worry about that now. She feels her gut twist with anxiousness. She hadn't even considered the rumours but … There's a reason that man's dubbed the 'thirteenth prince'. Many reasons, actually.

"Probably." Mulan answers, back-peddling a bit. Mulan's always been on the fence about things, she likes knowing both sides and considers everyone's opinion, the middle person.

Elsa likes that part about Mulan though, she's always so open minded, never just black and white.

Mulan continues, "I mean, the rumours about him can't be all true!"

"Y – You think so?"

Mulan waves a hand nonchalantly, "They're mostly exaggerated –" then sits on the fence again and adds, "– maybe!"

Maybe.

Maybe.

After all, the Southern Isles company would be in scrambles if any of their successors were rubbish so –

So … the rumours can't all be true. Just maybe a teenie weenie it, a small part of it. Johansen is just said to be … easily distracted. Which, isn't, or can't, be all that bad. He just has … this tendency to go the extra mile for some things, for that extra spark, to the point where he may or may not have damned himself in terms of budgeting. He has a spending problem (so much so that he's 'unofficially' appointed an accountant by his side – hence, Elsa). He's also known to be quite rude when he doesn't get his way but … everybody gets snippy when they don't get what they want but he has reasons, right? For all his spendings? His efforts must be recognised, if not, why would anyone trust him and hand him so much cash? Therefore –

Therefore …

"Just, be careful." Mulan adds, hands clasping together like a prayer.

Elsa feels her chest swell. Be careful.

"O – Of course."

Elsa can't really think of any defences for the man she has to shadow. She doesn't even know him. Never met him. Hasn't met him. But there's also some positive light shed on him when he's talked about. He … likes pretty things and surely, surely, someone who like such pretty things can't be vicious and horrible, right?

.

.

.

She walks right into someone – literally. Her blue eyes were busy roaming out the free skies as her thoughts were, and her fingers were playing with her ID card. And by the time she noticed him, this smartly dressed man, she had partly slammed into him before stumbling back.

"Oh God," Elsa gasps, feeling her head overloading with shouts of horror and accusation.

He had tried to reach out and steady her but wasn't able too. Not after she had instinctively avoided and sidestepped his touch; only taking more steps back, more willing to snap her ankles than accept a stranger's help. She's too busy freaking out. So much so that she doesn't notice the expensive rings curled around his fingers and the nice watch strapped around his wrist. If she had, if she did, then maybe she might have realised who he was and how significant he was to her.

"Oh my God." She says again, hand over her heart, studying his face in fear– flaming red hair paired with a bright emerald gaze. She's never seen him around the building but he looked important and almost familiar and handsome. An automatic apology immediately crawls up her throat before she can stop herself, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, I was just trying to – I didn't see where I was going – I won't do it again, I won't – I – I'm sorry."

Emerald green eyes squint back at her. She thought he would tell her to 'slow down', to 'take a deep breath', maybe even calm herself because 'it's alright, no harm done' like in the past. Like all the other people who's seen her freak out and deemed her a fragile, little thing.

But he doesn't. No. Instead, he responses by grabbing her ID card, pulling her a little closer to him as he tugs on the lanyard around her neck. She's so shock by his boldness that she clams up.

"So –" He says, an accusing tone behind his words. "– you're Elsa." He says this like he's heard great things about her (or maybe her fuck ups).

"Y – Yes. And, and you are?" She squeaks like a mouse.

His expression chances; a leering smirk twists on his lips and she suddenly notices the freckles on his face as his mouth moves and he tells her, "I'm Hans."

;;

Notes 3: This was supposed to be a super long, maybe 20K one-shot but I can't be bothered to edit all of that in one go so guess who's fucked herself up? Me. Because (1) if it's more than a one-shot than I often can't be bothered to update unless someone tells me to (nicely) and (2) if it ain't a one-shot then that means it can and will get longer and that means more work for me. For now, I think this will be a three-shot but who knows?

(Or maybe I'm just making this more than a one-shot because I'm not ready to let go of rich, asshat, car owning modern Hans trash because I told myself I'd stop writing this version of Hans but it doesn't look like it, haha. Please don't get tired of me)

– 21 November 2018