A few hours later, Kristoff and Anna ended up on the stage, the redhead lying on her stomach, staring down thoughtfully at the ideas on her tablet, while Kristoff sat with both knees up, sketch pad on the floor between his legs, also carefully considering his creation. They discovered rather quickly that they could sit in each other's company silently quite comfortably. For the first hour she spent with him, she insisted he tell her more about himself, promising she'd do the same. He began quite awkwardly, but after a few minutes, he decided he didn't mind the girl. She actually listened, and surprisingly enough seemed interested in the things he had to say. It was when he mentioned his status as an orphan that Anna gasped.
"I'm an orphan, too!" she exclaimed with wide eyes. She hadn't ever met anyone else that had lost their parents before. And neither had he, except for his adopted brothers and sisters, but they were all much younger than he. "Well, you're not alone anymore," she had let him know, softly. He couldn't conceal the blush creeping up his cheeks as she looked back down at her tablet.
Now it was 5:45pm, and they both knew the cast of the show would be arriving soon. Kristoff noticed how Anna kept glancing at the house doors, no doubt waiting for Hans to appear. For some reason, this annoyed him, and he rolled his eyes, giving his attention back to his set sketches. Sure enough, five minutes later, the doors opened and in walked one of the theatre's directors, Hans following not too far behind, flanked with a group of girls. Kristoff watched with disdain as Anna's eyes lit up. She got up, dusted herself off and made her way down the stage left stairs down into the house. "Hans!" she called out. Five pairs of eyes glared at her as she threw her arms around his neck, kissing his cheek.
"Whoa, Anna, slow down…" he said with a dry chuckle, gently taking her hands and pulling them away from him. "Now is hardly the time or place," he chided. The group of girls giggled and continued down the aisle to the front row set of seats as Hans gripped Anna's hands a fraction tighter, pulling her closer so that he could whisper in her ear, though to Anna, it felt like more of a hiss. "Please try not embarrass me in front of my colleagues, Anna. Don't make me regret my decision to land you this job. Alright?" he added with a forced grin. He patted her hand and walked passed her to sit with the rest of the cast as they arrived. Anna watched him walk away, still in shock from the whole interaction. He didn't usually act that way. It was all she could do to keep him from undressing her when they were alone. Though she supposed they hadn't exactly been anywhere together in public quite yet. She was jolted out of her reverie as the director clapped her hands loudly.
"Alright, everyone! Let's get started! Up on the stage, we're going to begin with blocking 'At the End of the Day.'"
Anna watched as Kristoff got up and headed through the stage right wing, no doubt heading to the scene shop to get started on sets. Anna sighed and made her way to the staircase that led to what she now referred to as The Dungeon.
[15 minutes later]
Anna whimpered as she came to another dead end. Why couldn't she have paid attention the two times Kristoff had led her to and from the costume shop? You know why, said a little voice at the back of her head, Hans doesn't have shoulders like that… or such an ass for that matter! Anna shook her head. No, no, this would not do at all. She was with Hans, who was acting weird, but maybe he was just having a bad day. Stop looking at the grumpy set guy and do what you were hired to do. "Only one problem with that," she grumbled out loud to herself, backing against one of the walls, "Where the HELL is my room?!" She slid down to the floor, frustrated, lost, disheartened, and confused. Just as her forehead made contact with her arms that were folded over her knees, she heard footsteps.
"Do you generally make a habit of talking to yourself?"
"Kristoff!" She jumped back up to her feet. "Boy, am I glad you're here! This place is maddening!"
Kristoff chuckled and nodded his head down the corridor. "Yeah, I figured I'd come down and see if you had made it or not. I'm guessing not." He took her to the costume shop, and he noticed how uncharacteristically quiet she was. Looking down at her from the corner of his eye, he could see her wringing her tiny little hands around the other. Her brow was furrowed in deep thought, which would occasionally turn to worry, and then back again to concentration. It was almost as if she was having some kind of internal struggle with herself. Once to her Neverland of fabric, Kristoff leaned in the doorway as she began doing her thing, still quiet and focused. "Hey, Feisty Pants…" He waited for her to look up at him with inquiring eyes. Damn those crystal blue hues that pierced right through him. "You okay? I know I've only known you for about a day, but your silence is seriously unnerving."
A small smile tugged at her lips, but it never reached her eyes. "You know… friends tend to ask friends if they're alright when they sense something is wrong…" she hinted, glancing up at him.
Kristoff rolled his eyes. Earlier that morning when he invited her up to the scene shop, she had followed him around, being purposefully annoying and insisting that they were going to be the best of friends. She could 'feel it in her bones!' After half a dozen 'Nopes' and a few 'I'm a loner's' later, he had turned to her and said, "Hey, I know, let's play the silent game!" which resulted in their quiet time on the stage.
After a moment, he sighed and walked into the room, pulling a stool up to the center table and placing his elbows on the table, his chin in his hands, looking across at the redhead. "I will 'consider' being friends with you," he teased, "if you tell me what's wrong. Not that I care or anything," he added quickly, sitting up straight. "I just can't have you moping around the theatre, breathing bad vibes into the wood of my set pieces."
Anna snorted. "Kris, that is the weirdest thing you've yet to say…!" He blushed at the shortening of his name.
"Anna…"
"Okay, fine!" she groaned and plopped down on a stool of her own across from her new friend. "Hans was acting weird up there just now…" she muttered, avoiding eye contact as she traced random objects on the metal table top with her finger. Kristoff could feel his body tensing just at the guy's name. He gave her a curt nod to go on, although he knew it was a bad idea. There was no positive way to respond when it came to Hans. She sighed and shook her head. "Never mind. I'm being silly," she said with a small laugh. Before he could register what in the world he was doing, Kristoff stood, reaching over the table to catch her chin between his thumb and index finger, forcing her gently to look up at him.
"Hey… chin up, Red. Everything happens for a reason," he added, pointedly.
Anna didn't move. His soft, brown eyes bored into hers, and she found comfort there. Something she never saw in the eyes of… others. "Thank-" She cleared her throat. "Thank you." And with that, he was gone.
Anna took Kristoff's encouragement in strides. She was completely focused on the costumes, everything coming together quite nicely, that time seemed to fly away from her. Had it really been two weeks? It seemed only ten minutes since rehearsal had started upstairs when she felt thin fingers slither across her waist. She screamed, startled, and she heard something snap. She stood and spun around in said hands, looking up to see, "Hans!"
He chuckled lightly, pulling her close, his lips landing just below her ear. Irritated about being scared mixed with the confusion about Hans' suddenly affectionate mood change (he had been distant and cold since rehearsals had begun a fortnight ago), Anna placed her hands on his chest and pushed him gently away. "Stop…" she muttered, pulling out of his grip to turn her attention back to her sewing machine. "Ohhh, no!" she whimpered, leaning over to look at the presser foot, "the needle broke!"
"Who cares?" His voice was deep and gruff as he moved his hands to grasp her rear. Again she jumped, stumbling over her chair as she backed away from him.
"I care, Hans!" she hollered. If she had blinked, she would have missed the strike entirely. He was gripping her forearm with such force that she could almost feel it bruising. Her eyes were wide with terror, another whimper escaping her lips.
"Don't. You. Dare-"
"Anna?" Kristoff rounded the corner just as Hans dropped her arm. He frowned at the scene in front of him, fire catching in his blood.
"What do you want, Bjorgman?!"
"Firstly, I'd like to remind you of the 15 ft barricade you get to spend half an act climbing over. More importantly the genius who builds it." Anna's heart was pounding in her chest as she watched the two. What was happening? "Secondly-"
Someone's phone began to ring. Hans glared at Kristoff and took his phone from his pocket and answered his phone. "Hello? Yeah, hold on…" He covered the receiver and looked back at Anna. "We'll finish this later." He placed a hard kiss on her head before storming out of the costume shop, Kristoff stepping clear out of his way, his eyes never leaving Anna.
He waited a moment before moving towards her. "Are you okay, Anna?" he asked softly, concern lining his lovely irises. She turned away from him, looking at the broken needle. Why had she pushed Hans away? She welcomed affection, in any fashion or form. Was it because she was disappointed that it turned out to be Hans? Had she been expecting, desiring someone else's strong, calloused hands? She couldn't answer her own question. She wouldn't.
She shrugged her shoulders. "I'm fine," she muttered, reaching for the thread at the presser foot, snapping her wrist in a quick little movement, breaking the thread. "I'm perfect."
Kristoff wasn't fooled for a moment. He knew something had happened. He had heard her yell at that rat bastard before he called out her name. "Oh," he said, sliding his hands in his pockets, looking around and rocking back and forth on his heels. "I guess that means you feel 'fine' enough to go grab some ice cream, then?" he asked knowingly, grinning at the back of her head.
She was still a moment before turning to look over her shoulder, her face serious, those pink, perfect lips of hers puckered in a small pout. "Chocolate?" she asked quietly.
"Anna…" he sighed in a dramatic tone, "is there any other kind?"
And there it was; he watched as her bottom lip slowly folded itself between her teeth as she turned around slowly, grinning. It was then that he knew. He was smitten. And damn it, he had to contain it for four more weeks. Arguments aside, she was still taken.
Anna grabbed her bag before curling her fingers into his sleeve, tugging impatiently. "Come on, then! Chocolate waits for no one!" He grinned, following her out of the costume shop, feeling like he was on top of the world after bringing a smile back to her perfect lips.
