Anna drags herself into the washroom with a herculean effort. In fact, she would not be surprised if somebody had tied invisible weights to her in her sleep. Her eyelids are heavy with months of sleepless nights. They all pile onto each other until she seems to be enlisting the most part of her brain into keeping them open.

Consequently, the rest of her body is suffering from severe clumsiness. With her entire brain capacity being focused on staying at least upright and awake, her balance is on its own. For Anna, the result could be detrimental.

Despite tripping on a completely flat rug, Anna makes it to the washroom adjacent to her room without an injury. She slams the door a tad too loudly behind her, and she cringes. It's as if her life is now a constant state of hangover.

The girl staring at her in the mirror is unfamiliar in an eerie way. Anna hardly knows her, yet for the past few months it has been she who stares back at her from the reflective surface. Anna has always been the best of sleepers, but in light of recent events she has gotten approximately two hours of sleep a night.

Lack of sleep, somehow, hallows out all parts of herself. A bag of cosmetics lies out in front of her, and she gets to work.

It takes fifteen minutes, but in the end she looks like a functioning human being. Her hair is as uncooperative as ever, so she puts it up in a messy, five-second bun. It is one of her two signature hair styles. Some people may try to look exceptionally nice on their first day back after several months, but she figures that her classmates will expect much worse after hearing the news.

The door to the washroom swings open suddenly, and Anna yelps.

"Oh," Elsa says, eyes wide. Her cheeks are dusted with pink. She scans Anna's body, as if looking for any sort of indecency that she may have exposed herself too. Finding none, a look of relief washes over her. "Sorry."

Elsa, somehow, manages to look gorgeous before she even looks into a mirror. Her hair, even while dishevelled, manages to frame her face. The bright blue of her eyes compliments platinum blonde hair in a startling way. Anna's not sure if she's ever properly observed them as a pair, and vows to do so more often.

It's only when she notices her lean, pale legs hardly hidden by a pair of cotton shorts, that Anna realizes what she's doing. She looks away quickly, and touches her cheeks automatically. They're pulsing with heat, and she hopes that Elsa hasn't noticed.

"Don't worry about it," Anna answers softly. These are the first words Elsa has said since the disastrous dinner. While Anna rises at one in the afternoon, Elsa does so at six or seven in the morning. By the time Anna has risen, Elsa is either out of the house or in her bedroom. Anna can never tell, for Elsa seems to have some method of leaving the house which she cannot detect.

Elsa nods, but does not turn away. Anna takes this as a good sign.

"So have you been enjoying my snacks? I never know when you're going to be out of your bedroom, so I've been leaving whatever I bake outside of your room. I would love to know your favourite because I'm sure you have one, and then you could have it. I mean, I would make it for you. Not all the time, but at least sometimes. Cause with school starting I might actually have a life besides, like, sitting outside your room." Anna cringes. "Or, um, other things. That's not all I do. So, I mean, if you have one, just let me know."

Elsa blinks at her.

"If you don't want to talk, then just write or something. I mean, I know I like to talk. Clearly. Or else I would have shut up by now. Which I should, I guess." Anna stops to breathe, but the blonde remains unmoving. "But, um, what I meant to say, is that I'd like to hear from you. Even if you're not the best talker. Not that you're not a good talker. You just might like to write more. Which is cool. Your parents say you use the internet a lot, so you could even email me, or facebook me, or give me your tumblr if you have one, or something? God, that sounded creepy—"

"Anna," Elsa interrupts.

"Right. The shutting up bit. I'll do that." Miraculously, Anna manages to quiet herself.

Elsa takes a deep breath. Anna's eyes shine in hope that she will say something of worth. Something like "sorry" or "you don't have to shut up" or even "treacle tart".

"When will you be done with the washroom? I'm not in a rush, but my classes start in an hour as well."

Anna feels disappointment overcome her.

At least she's talking to you.

"Wait." A sudden realization dawns upon her. "Classes?"

Elsa lets out a small breath that could be either a startled, exasperated sigh, or a stifled laugh. "University. Despite my intentions, I am a part of the functioning world."

"You..." Anna pauses. "Like, go to classes and stuff?"

"I know that I shut the world out," Elsa says with humour that still manages to strike at Anna's heart. The fact that Elsa remembers what she said—those rude, thoughtless words—makes her wonder if maybe she did care, and how much she hurt her. Though she hurt you more. "But how could the valedictorian not attend university?"

"Yeah."

Elsa continues to look at her, pondering. Anna finds it difficult to distinguish between her amusement and judgement.

"Which university do you go to, then?"

"Cambridge."

Anna, who has paused all attempts at getting ready to talk to her ex-best friend, manages to stub her toe whilst remaining mostly stationary. "What?"

Elsa offers another smirk. "I've been attending classes the entire time you've been staying here, Anna. It just so happens that I prefer to be awake while the sky is."

The redhead wants to respond, but her sleep-ridden brain can only focus on the way that Elsa said her name, and the fact that she said 'staying here'. As if Anna's existence is some sort of temporary arrangement that she will soon be rid of.

Anger flames up inside of Anna, but she pushes it down. She doesn't want to push Elsa away, not again.

"Oh."

"Anyway," Elsa says, apparently only now noticing that she has formed a full length conversation. Her arms come up to grip her torso, and her eyes flit around the washroom in attempt to avoid Anna. "I can wait."

She backs up, slowly and politely at first. The moment that Anna opens her mouth, however, Elsa turns on her heel and walks at a pace approaching a sprint to her bedroom.

"Nice talk!" Anna yells out after her. The blonde doesn't even pause before slamming her bedroom door behind her.

The ornate white and blue door shudders on its hinges.

"Shit," Anna mumbles to herself. She has one conversation with the girl she so wants to bring back to her life, and she manages to end it sourly. Just because she reacted poorly to her wording. A groan escapes her lips, and she pounds the toothbrush drawer of the sink closed with extra force.

She spends a few more moments observing herself in the mirror, making the minutest changes, before she decides that there really is nothing else that can be done about her appearance. The confrontation adds an extra pathetic layer to her image, and Anna has the urge to shatter the mirror in front of her. She shakes her head, and takes calming breaths. Hopefulness is not the same as stupidity.

The girl in the mirror raises an eyebrow at her dubiously. With Elsa, it might be. After all, ten years is more than enough time to cement a personality. By now, Anna is searching for something that is buried by miles of memories.

Anna pushes open the door with care, as if Elsa could be on the other side once again. She is not. The redhead sighs.

Stupidity.


I am such an idiot.

Elsa paces around her room, rearranging a misplaced item once every few seconds. Her room is startling clean, but in her mindset even a book that is not in exact alphabetical order punches her in the gut.

She has a calendar in her bedroom, yet somehow the date of Anna's first day of school managed to slip her mind. Perhaps she can memorize every element on the periodic table, but she will never be able to remember the small details that could make her life a thousand times more convenient.

After making so much progress, too.

Anna had only sat outside her room for ten minutes the day before. Chocolate chip cookies in toe, she had sat outside her room and outlined her day. As per usual, she had asked if Elsa wanted hot chocolate. When she didn't get a response, Elsa had heard Anna's feet retreating to her bedroom. Then, the empty cookie plate Elsa had left outside her door had disappeared without even a word from Anna. Elsa had heard her footsteps, but nothing else.

The progress was just as useful in protecting Anna as it was in shielding Elsa. It hurt her, every day, to hear Anna say the things she wished to be true. Anna constantly told her how much she loved her, and how much she missed her. It struck Elsa harshly for these things to be true, yet not in the way that they were for Elsa. Additionally, it had made it exceptionally difficult for Elsa to get much work done.

Maybe, someday, Elsa will have the self-restraint that she convinces herself she has, but today does not seem to be that day. The moment Anna appears before her, all of her self-taught distancing leaves her mind. Elsa wishes she understood why. What it was about the clumsy, goofy, babbling redhead that seemed to both fix and baffle everything. If she did, she could train herself to ignore it.

Though, maybe not. Elsa's been trying to rid herself of these feelings for nine years. Not for Anna, as she was only an obscure beauty that bounced in and out of her life every other Sunday. There were girls, however, from the moment she started secondary school. She remembers telling her mother about it. Shy, shocked, and confused, Elsa had known there was something different about her crushes, but not something wrong. The shock that had passed over her mother's face confirmed her worst nightmares. Without missing a beat, she had been told that it had to be a secret. Elsa, only thirteen at the time, couldn't understand the consequences.

Then, years later, her father read through her journal. Sixth form, and Elsa had become withdrawn to the point of social anxiety. Her father had worried. As any would, Elsa convinces herself. What he found, however, warranted the sting of a slap in the face, and bellowing of words that still shout at her.

Cursed, he had called her. An abomination.

She knew he was right. Those words, repeated and added upon for over a year, became a part of who she was. When she's upset, those words are there to reassure her. To keep her close to the ground so that she won't fall far each time she is told the truth.

Elsa wishes that she shouted as much as she did inside her own head. Then, perhaps, she would lose her voice for good. The words that circle her mind would be the only time she heard her own voice. She would be forced into accepting her truth, into knowing that she cannot become any better. The hope that refuses to leave, that speaks to Anna when she runs into her, would not be able to win then.

She continues to pace around her room, which seems to have grown colder. As per usual, her stress turns her blood cold and her body rigid. The blonde does not trust herself to rearrange her bedroom any longer. The anger that swirls within herself is enough to terrify her. For all she knows, she could destruct everything.

Suddenly, Elsa hears a door close. It's soft, barely audible, but she hears it.

Anna.

She takes a deep breath, and clutches at the material of her jeans.

Elsa is not rash. She is tired, angry, and confused. But she is not violent. She is not dangerous.

I am not dangerous.

Taking one last breath, Elsa pushes open her door and brings herself to the washroom where she broke her own promise.


Do you get it yet? Every chapter is named after a disney song. Mostly cause I'm a perfectionist loser who likes to make things more difficult than they are. Anyway, yeah, this one's from Snow White.

Let me know what you think of the story, what you'd like to see more of, etc. Hans and Olaf are coming soon, as well as some fluff... The angst won't last forever.