Anna followed Kristoff in silence, doing her best to concentrate on which staircase to walk down, which hallways to take (was it left or right after the second flight?), and exactly how many doors it took to get to the one her guide was now opening. He opened the door and, out of habit, allowed her to enter first. Anna's face lit up; one wall was lined with dress and suit forms (perfect for building the structure of her costumes when no one was around to model), another wall lined by three tables, each with a sewing machine, all Singers. She noted that the last one was even computerized. There were two more rooms connected at the back wall, one with a plaque that read "Shoes," and another that read "Costumes," under which stated "(in order of time period)." Between those doors were what looked like a column of too-large paper towel holders, each one bearing a large bolt of different colored fabrics.

Anna was in heaven. "I might cry…" she breathed, walking in to run her delicate fingers over the first sewing machine she came to.

Kristoff snorted. "Don't worry; I won't judge." He couldn't help the insistent tug at the corner of his lips as he watched her drool over her new 'home.' It was clear to him that this was something she was really passionate about, and he had to give her credit. When she mentioned Hans, he expected her to be some inexperienced little girl who was just here to follow around the arrogant bastard like a puppy. Maybe he misjudged her. And maybe he needed to wait a bit longer than 10 minutes to assume anything about the young woman. "So… how do you know Hans?" He meant with everything he was to lead her here and put as much distance between them as possible. The best laid plans of mice and men…

Anna jumped slightly as he pulled her out of her dream-like state. "Oh. Hans?" She laid her messenger bag on the very large, metal table at the center of the room. "I met him when I moved here a couple of weeks ago. Ran into him at-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa… You've only known him for a couple of weeks?" he interrupted, flabbergasted.

She paused a moment, tablet in hand. "Well… yeah. It was kind of love at first sight, I guess you could say," she said with a giddy sparkle in her eye as she looked towards the ceiling. "He told me that he was a well-known actor here, found out I was looking for a job in design, and told me this theatre was hiring for the next show. I did theatre in school, practically made all of our costumes, so it was perfect! Like fate!" she finished with a dreamy sigh.

Kristoff was at a loss for words. This was by far the most naive of all the "how I met Hans" stories he had heard in the last few years the guy had been performing at Kristoff's resident venue. Sure, his other victims would be upset by the end of it all, but Anna… she'd be ripped to shreds. No. No, no, no. You cannot get involved. She's just like every other poor fool that douche bag drags in for each season. Something very, very deep down told him he was wrong this time, but it pushed it aside. "Whatever," he sighed, running a hand over his face. "I'm going to leave you to it, then," he said, turning to walk out of the room.

"Wait, Kristoff?" He stopped in his tracks and winced. Slowly, he turned around, and she was closer this time, her cerulean eyes imploring as they seared right through his brown ones.

"Um," she began, unable to keep the blush from spreading through her freckled cheeks. "Do you… do you thing I could have your cell number?" she asked quietly, hesitantly. "I mean, not for personal reasons, mind you…" Oh, for the love, Anna, just get to the point! "…But because, well…" She sighed, fed up with herself. Just make a fool of yourself now, Andersen, to save you the trouble of doing it later. "I'm not exactly sure I know how to get back from here. It's like an underground labyrinth down here, and I may need to call you in case I get lost…?" She felt like she was on fire with embarrassment. How stupid she must sound!

Kristoff was quiet for a second or two before a hearty laugh escaped his lips. Damn, this girl was so ridiculously endearing! He hadn't smiled this much outside of Bulda's house in…well, he couldn't actually think of a time! "You're something else, Anna…" he mumbled, walking over to the center table and grabbing a nearby sketch pad. He scrawled his number onto the paper and made his way back to the door. "For directions only, got it Red? I don't have time for mindless chatter." He meant to be a hard ass about it, but that same, annoying tugging at his lips had her grinning, too.

She nodded, eyes bright. "Directions. Yes. Right. Got it." He shook his head, rolling his eyes, and Anna couldn't help but watch him until he was completely out of sight. He seemed like such a grump, but something told her he was nothing but a big teddy bear. She liked teddy bears. Many of her closest friends growing up were teddy bears. They were going to be good friends; she was going to make sure of it.

—

Kristoff cursed himself all the way back up to the main floor. Why did she have to ask for his number? He never extended the invitation for any kind of friendship with the actors, the crew, the staff. Just the few guys that helped him build, and that was because there wasn't much choice in the matter. Now his very own Effie Trinket had his number. He jumped as his phone vibrated in his pocket, a subtle "ding" to alert him of a message. He noticed he was standing center stage, unsure of how he actually got there. He took out his phone to see a message from an unfamiliar number. He had a good guess…

Sliding his finger across the notification, the message popped up.

[Hi… it's Anna. Thank you… :) ]

Without his consent, both corners of his lips tugged upwards into a full-blown smile.