I take a deep breath of the sharp cold air, the night feeling like a shard of glass in my throat. I lean against the building, taking a few more breaths; I try to collect myself before going home.

I stayed quiet through group tonight, because each time I tried to open my mouth I felt a surge of anxiety in my stomach. So my jaws stuck together like superglue and fingers.

Just as I am about to dial my phone for my mom, something slouches next to me against the wall. Instantly, I tense up.

And then a low, slippery voice emanates from the figure. "Hey, relax. It's just me. You're Elsa, right? You barely spoke tonight," the girl called Anna says.

My mouth falls open a few times before answering. "Yeah, I'm Elsa. I was just nervous tonight, I guess," I reply, trying to keep my voice level.

Now, a small giggle. "Well you better start talking. Rapunzel doesn't like it when people don't talk during group."

I tilt my head up and I catch a glimpse of her eyes, which glitter under the dim lamps in the parking lot. "How long have you been here? If you don't mind me asking."

"A while," Anna sighs. "It's a long story. I try not to get stuck on it."

A lull of silence falls over us as we watch a few cars pull out of the parking lot. I notice that we're the only ones there, and that even Rapunzel left. There was only one car left in the lot.

Anna stretches out onto the bench in front of us and motions me to come over. As I lower myself onto the bench, she shakes a pack of cigarettes out of her bag and into her hand.

"Want one?" She offers, holding the box out to me.

I shake my head and she shrugs, lighting it and blowing smoke slowly. Noise from crickets fills the space between us.

"So how come you're still here?" She asks, flicking ash off the tip of her cigarette.

"I was about to call my mom to get her to pick me up —"

She squeals before I finish my sentence, then laughs. "Sorry about that, I tend to do that when I'm excited," Anna smiles. "Would you want a ride home with me? I don't mind taking you."

"I guess," I say. "Let me just text my mom."

After she says it's okay, Anna squeals again, grinds out her cigarette, and drags me to her car. It's small, but cozy, with wisps of cigarettes and chocolate on the air.

Before she has the chance to pull out of her parking space, her phone vibrates. She apologizes, and grabs her phone from the cupholder; I surreptitiously observe Anna, hoping she doesn't notice.

Anna growls from the back of her throat as she unlocks her phone, the fair skin on her forehead wrinkling as she reads a text.

I jump, startled when she throws her phone back into the cupholder. Anna slumps forward, her shoulders slightly shaking. Cautiously I touch her arm, not wanting to scare her.

"Anna? What's wrong?" I ask, my voice sounding small.

She leans back, flinching at my light touch. "Fuck," she mutters, swiping her fingertips under her eyelids, pulling away mascara and eyeliner. She's crying.

Anna's crying.

I sit in stunned silence, probably making it worse by the millisecond. I'm terrified and confused; what caused her to break all of a sudden?

I try again. "Anna, what is wrong?"

This time, she answers. "It's... Goddamnit, I don't know."

I reach for her hand, feeling it tremble in mine. I feel nervous, panicked. I've never touched anyone so casually before.

Tears fall freely from her eyes now, unrestricted by her fingers. Anna lets out small, low sounds, staring out the window in order for me not to see her.

I rub circles with my thumb on the back of Anna's hand. I'm at a loss of what to do; I barely know how to comfort myself, so how can I comfort someone else?

We sit for what feels like an eternity, the only noise breaking the silence being Anna's sniffles.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I attempt.

"Not really, but I guess you deserve to know after seeing me like his." She offers me a small, sheepish smile. "My ex-boyfriend, Hans, texted me." And with that, she totally broke. She threw herself into my arms, while I froze uncomfortably.

"There, there," I say, patting her arm. I am getting nervous because I don't know what to do.

Another infinity and a half passes before Anna flops back into her seat. "God, I'm so sorry," she says, running her hands through her bangs. "Sorry for breaking down like that. It's just that, well, the time I spent with my ex just wasn't good. My ex wasn't a good person," she tries to explain.

I simply nod, because I don't know what it's like. I've never dated anyone before.

I settle for listening to her half-sobbed sentences and patting her arm. She seems comforted by my hand and I relax a little, feeling a little bit less anxious while touching her.

It took about a hour after group before we start to head home. I don't mind; I don't need to wake up early.

I don't push her to explain herself to me, nor does she do that to me. We simply sit in silence, though not oppressive but somehow understanding with a tender undercurrent.

Before she unlocks the doors after pulling into my driveway, she wraps her arms around my shoulders. This time, I don't become stiff and I pride myself on it. It's the first time in a long time that I've voluntarily touched someone.

And it feels so good.

A/N: Hello and thanks for reading! Just so it's known now, this story will be based on my own personal struggle with self-harm and bipolar disorder. So this story may be triggering. I'll put a warning ahead of time when I start to push boundaries. I intend for this story to be an outlet for me to talk about my experiences, and to stress how important it is to get help if you feel that you need it.

With that said, if you feel depressed or if you want to hurt yourself or someone else, PLEASE see a professional! Mental health issues are serious problems that need immediate attention. And if you ever need someone to talk to, don't hesitate to PM me, or ask for my tumblr or email. I will listen.

Have a great day!

A/N 2: To Amaryllis — I realized that I actually didn't have anyone to be Anna's ex, lo. I changed the story up a bit so it could fit in with the plot I had in mind.