AN: I don't know how to else to say this, but this chapter might get a little nsfw. Just a little. I wanted to warn anybody in case it could make someone uncomfortable or whatever.

Chapter Eight


As Hans drove home a few days later, his cellphone kept ringing from calls by the private caller. Frustrated by the pestering ringing, he answered the call. Before he could speak, the voice interrupted him.

"Where were you?" His blackmailer hissed.

"Busy," he dismissed.

"Busy!? Are you forgetting I can ruin your life!?" She shouted. Hans didn't respond.

His blackmailer continued, "Tell me everything you know so far about Elsa." As he thought about it, he discovered he knew a lot more about Elsa than he realized. He knew about where she lived, her romantic life (or lack of one.) He discovered she hated horses. The girl adored receiving flowers, and she couldn't dance to save her life. He felt like he knew her well enough to accurately guess her biggest weakness. He frowned suddenly. He couldn't aid his blackmailer without ruining everything for himself in the long run. The information he was asked to give would obviously hurt the company that he was now finally climbing the ladder in. His future career was hopefully destined in this company. He had invested so much of his time in it. He thought of Elsa. If he was going to be "engaged" to her, sabotaging her would only sabotage him as well. Besides, he started to like Elsa, which bothered him. Elsa's presence proved to be more interesting than he though. They joked together and started getting along. With beautiful, long, blonde hair that she hid from the world in a bun, she fascinated him.

"I can't," Hans concluded.

The blackmailer howled, "Bullshit! You know a lot about her! Commit to your end of the deal or else!"

"The deal's off. I want out."

"What!? You can't back out now!"

"I'm not helping you."

"Why are you saying this suddenly!? Are you in love with her or something!? You know you're relationship is fake, right? God, men are so stupid. They believe their own lies," she growled. He hesitated before answering. The question threw him off.

"No. I-"

"You're pathetic! You're forgetting I have more than just that secret on you, but fine! Too late! You backed out. You're going to have to pay for it now," she spat. Before Hans could say a single word, she hung up. He thought of other possible dirt she had on him. He figured she merely bluffed. He imagined what Dr. Weselton might do, if she found out that the relationship was fake the whole time. Dr. Weselton did want him to lie about the engagement; would his boss hypocritically care, if he and Elsa were just lying a bit earlier than her? He sighed, hoping his blackmailer really was bluffing.


The next day at work, Hans lurked by Elsa's desk. He held his phone in his hands for the sake of keeping his nervous hands busy. Elsa could tell he wanted to say something, but the moment he opened his mouth, Dr. Weselton asked him to go inside of her office. Left his cellphone on Elsa's black desk and went inside of Dr. Weselton's office. The phone vibrated with another text.

"Hans, I think you have a message." She looked up and he had already left. She got her pen and paper and started to fill out paperwork she was supposed to finish yesterday. She felt the small vibration of his phone through the table. She glimpsed around the office only to find her coworkers paid no attention.

"It's just his brother," she whispered to herself. The phone vibrated again.

Elsa mumbled sarcastically, "Probably just one of his brothers who shut him out and haven't talked to him for two years. Just like he promised." She frowned at her computer's screen, unable to focus on her work. She took out her a pen and paper, jotting down notes for later. Pressing on the pen too firmly, it slipped out of her grip, landing near the corner of her desk by his cellphone. She bite her lip, reaching for the phone. He wouldn't know.

"I should probably check it for him incase it's important," she justified to herself. She dropped her jaw as she read the texts.


"How was that date?" Dr. Weselton polished her glasses. He had never seen her without glasses. Although, there was nothing askew with her features, something felt odd about Dr. Weselton without her eyes framed. He took a seat in the uncomfortable black, leather chair.

"I accidently hurt her ankle, but other than that I think we had a good time. Thanks for treating us out."

"Is that why her foot was wrapped?" She examined at her polished nails briefly with a lack of genuine concerned for Elsa. "I just needed to make sure everything is going to plan," she admitted.

"When does Elsa get to know?" Hans asked.

"Well would she say yes to marrying you right now?"

"What? Of course not!"

"Then we're not ready," she spouted. She placed her glasses back on her face. "Son, I'll make sure that you are the first to know when Elsa gets to be filled in. For now, go back to your desk and do some work. Oh, and Hans? Whatever you do, you have to stay on Elsa's good side. I know she's your girlfriend and loves you regardless, but this has to go perfectly." Hans nodded. Boy, was she wrong, he thought to himself. He had already asked Elsa if she was in love with him, and Elsa denied it. When he came out of Dr. Weselton's office, Elsa jumped. She put his phone back down on the edge of her desk. Wandering around, he looked for his phone in his desk drawer, where he always kept it. He then checked his empty pockets with no luck.

"Elsa, Have you seen my... Oh, found it." Hans walked over to her desk, reclaiming his lost cellular prize. "I thought I lost it for a second." Elsa tried to look unsuspicious. Sitting straight, she pretended to by typing on her keyboard. The messages she read in his texts bothered her. Giving in to the temptation to confront him, she sighed.

"Hans, can I talk to you alone?" Elsa nervously glanced at the door. Hans nodded, confused. They stepped outside of their workplace into an empty, white hallway. Elsa closed the door behind them.

"You've been lying to me," she blurted.

"What?" He had no idea what she referred to, but his heart started to nervously beat faster. Seeing Dr. Weselton before meeting Elsa didn't help to calm his nerves. The tone in Elsa's voice gave away how upset she felt.

"I read your texts!" Elsa confessed with fury. She reached for her shoulder to nervously tug on her long braid, forgetting her hair was in a bun.

"Oh, no. Elsa, wait. Let me explain."

"You're cheating on me!?" She stormed.

"Wait, what?"

"Do you know how bad this looks for me!? Do you know how easy this exposes our fake relationship to be...fake!?" She jealously looked back down at the cell phone he clutched in his hand.

Hans scoffed, offended that she snooped through his cellphone and that she unfairly accused him. "Elsa, calm down. I'm not doing anything."

She raved, "You can't just date other girls behind my back like this!"

"We aren't even really dating! You can't tell me who I can't date!"

"Why not!? It affects me too, Hans!"

"Because none of this is real!"

"So you admit it?" Elsa huffed.

"No! I wasn't with any other girl besides you this entire time." Still skeptical, Elsa snatched his phone out of his hand and opened his text conversation with his blackmailer.

Elsa began to quote the texts, "'Meet me 2nite. Need u.' Here's my favorite: 'don't tell ur girlfriend about this.'"

"It's not what it looks like."

"Who is she?"

"Elsa, why did you even go through my phone?"

Elsa sighed, distressed, "This morning. Your phone wouldn't stop vibrating. I couldn't help it. You were so suspicious about who you were texting." Hans wondered if his blackmailer sent the messages as the first part of his punishment. If she did, there would be no way for her to know Elsa would read it all.

She spouted, "We're breaking up! I don't want to date you anymore. I-I don't even want to fake date you." Elsa's eye watered, so she looked to the ground to hide it. She felt angry at herself for letting her emotions get to her, but she felt more enraged at Hans. This situation was the exact opposite of what Dr. Weselton had told him to do.

Frustrated, Hans begged, "Wait. You can't quit. Please, not now. I promise I wasn't with any other girl."

She barked, "This girl is the one who left lipstick marks on your neck. Isn't she? That day you..." Elsa crossed her arms to help keep her composer. The lump in her throat kept her from speaking smoothly. She breathed, "That day kissed me outside?" Trying his best to remember that day, Hans suddenly had a flashback of his blackmailer pressing her lips to his neck between threats. He wasn't sure why, at the time, but he felt she was up to something. He was right. Taking too long to answer, Hans thought of ways to explain he didn't cheat on her without admitting he worked with a woman to leak her information. Elsa took his hesitation as a sign that it was true.

Hans stammered, "Elsa, I'm sorry. I didn't-"

"I already know. Don't bother. I'm not interested in your lies," Elsa hushed with an unsteady voice. Friends don't lie to friends. Friends don't make deals then break them. Friends also don't kiss each other, but they already broke that rule. Friends certainly didn't kiss each other then go around, dismissing monogamy.

"It's a complicated story, but it's not like that at all!" Hans reasoned.

"Please, stop explaining. I'm done," Elsa commanded, betrayal dripping in her tone. She stormed back inside the workplace. She plopped in her desk chair, typing furiously on her keyboard. Hans came in shortly after she did and sat at his desk across from her. She refused to look acknowledge anything beyond her desk in order to avoid eye contact with him. She felt enraged and that he would be willing to ruin their plan so easily. It hurt her to know she wasn't alone to keep his interest. His mind and bod wondered to another woman, who probably gave him more than she ever did. Elsa had started to think he might like her, but she now dismissed the idea of that ever happening. She felt like a fool, disappointed and humiliated. They went the rest of the entire day not talking to each other. A few times, Hans had glanced her way, but Elsa ignored him. When work ended, Elsa drove straight to her mansion. Later that night at home, the forlorn, distraught blonde watched a movie alone in her living room. Her sister had left for the night with a group a friends. Elsa bitterly hugged the pillow to her chest, having no friends to spend the evening with. Since her parents died, Anna was the only one who shared the mansion with her. The sisters barely spoke to each other, though. She felt like Anna was more of a roommate than her sister. Occasionally, her distant aunt would visit to make sure they were doing okay by visiting. Tonight, it was just going to be Elsa and the silent white walls. She curled up in her blue jeans and long-sleeved, purple shirt. Her hair draped in a loosened bun that she could never bring herself to wear in public. Hearing an unexpected knock at the door, Elsa stood up to investigate. She opened the heavy, white door to find Hans standing there with a stuffed, large, brown paper-bag in his hands. Elsa cocked an eyebrow, wondering what on earth he was up to.

"How did you know where I live?" Elsa slowly asked.

Hans brushed off the question, "I dropped you off here last night, remember?" Elsa crossed her arms, glaring at him bitterly. He looked like he'd been busy since work had ended, since he still wore his dark, grey business suit.

"Elsa, I'm sorry about earlier. Can I come in?"

"The fake relationship is over. Go away." She tried to slam the door, but he blocked the door from closing any further with his foot.

"I was hoping I could change your mind," Hans grunted, the bag growing too heavy for him.

"No, I don't forgive you."

"I brought you something. It's an apology gift. Let me just set it down for you," Hans persisted. Elsa finally stood back and let him walk inside her home. He placed his bag on a nearby marble table in her living room. His eyes scanned the well decorated home. Leather furniture, silk pillows, a crystal chandelier, and elegant vases and art work scattered. He pulled out three tall bottles.

He cleared his throat nervously, "I didn't know what you liked, so I got three. There's whiskey and chardonnay." He picked up the clear bottle in the middle. "This vodka is my personal favorite." The bottles themselves looked elegant, decorated in swirls and clear logos. By the appearance, they seemed like quality beverages. Elsa stared at the bottles, unsure how he thought this would make up for what he did.

"I think you should go," Elsa sighed. She covered her forehead with one hand, not wanting to argue any further.

"At least let me stay for one drink?" He hoped he'd get her forgive him and reestablish their fake relationship before he left. He assumed alcohol would do the trick. Drunks usually were friendly, loving people, and those were the qualities it'd take for her to forgive him.

Elsa caved in, "Fine. Just one." Taking the alcohol with him, she showed him her kitchen. He placed the bottles on the kitchen counter and scavenged her cabinets for cups. After finding glasses, Hans poured three glasses of each drink for her. She never drank before, despite being twenty-one. Not wanting to admit it to him, she raised the vodka to her lips nonchalantly. It had an awful, bitter taste that she didn't expect. She groaned in disgust after tasting it. She scrunched her nose.

"Too strong?" Hans laughed at her reaction. She recoiled a second time, an aftershock of repulsing flavor hitting her taste buds.

Elsa croaked, "Just a little. It's fine. I'll just calm down the taste with this." She picked up the glass filled with whiskey.

Hans warned, "Then I wouldn't drink that if I were you." Elsa choked on it the moment she swallowed it. It tasted even worse than the first one. Hans leaned on her counter, snickering at each facial expression she made. It nauseated her. She couldn't understand how he, or anyone, could enjoy these beverages. He opened her refrigerator door, rummaging around until her found passion fruit juice. He poured the sweet juice into her vodka. She realized her goal to look experienced and refined was shattered by her own gagging.

"This will make it taste better," he smiled from the corner of his mouth. She hesitated, wondering if watching her grimace from the foul taste was a game to him. He watched her experiment with the drinks amused by silently guessing which one she'd choke on next. Elsa decided she liked the taste of the juice in her vodka, but only the taste of the juice. The vodka slightly ruined the fruity flavor. It reminded her of the flavored liquid medicine her mother used to make her drink as a child. Regardless, she didn't want to make herself look like she wasn't able to handle alcohol. She grew determined to take all the alcohol down without any more gagging to regain her sense of honor and maturity.

Remembering the sight of the living room, Hans jested, "So you were just going to watch a movie alone? Is that how you spend your Friday nights?"

"Anna had to go somewhere. I don't like being alone, so I sometimes turn on the TV just for the sound." Elsa finished the rest of her cup, hiding her disgust in the flavor.

"I didn't know you liked horror movies. Me too." He tried to assess how angry she might still be. "I have an idea: we drink every time the main character makes a bad decision."

"Deal," Elsa quipped. She grew bored and lonely before he arrived. A new game and someone's presences felt like a refreshing change for her. Sitting next to each other on the living room couch, they tossed jokes back and forth. The victim in the movie ended up making a lot of bad decisions, always opening the door the murderer hid behind or choosing a bad hiding spot. They had to refill their cups many times. Elsa and Hans drunkenly sipped more due to their own rules. She hadn't been intoxicated before, and it concerned her how loose she behaved. They both laughed at parts of the movie that weren't even funny. A scene appeared with pop music playing in the background as the killer stalked the victim. Hans started to sing along, slurring the words at some point.

"I didn't know you can sing! Wow," Elsa giggled, tipsy.

"And you and IIIIIII," he laughed, as he sang the lyrics. "I don't know this song that much. Ugh, I'm so hungry."

"I can cook!" Elsa shot up and ran to the kitchen with Hans following her. The horror movie still echoed in the background. With poor balance, Elsa leaned onto the counter for support. Hans dug through her refrigerator, taking out each item of food he found inside. He picked up malformed pepper, and Elsa dug through the cabinet disorderly for pans.

"Hey, it looks like Weselton's husband," he snorted.

"Yeah, but it needs glasses!"

"Her husband doesn't have glasses? We saw him. The crazy tall guy with the ginger beard. Ginger beard man. Ginger bread man." Hans enjoyed his own play on words. The alcohol gave her a headache, and her bun only made it feel worse. Elsa tore her hair-tie out, shaking out her waves with her hand. Hans was mesmerized from watching her hair waterfall down her back.

Hans continued, "He was calling her a 'sex goddess' in our meeting. It was so awkward."

"Wait, that's not her husband! Her husband is the short man with glasses! He sat next to her at the... um... that party, ball thing. You met him," Elsa fussed. She broke five eggs into a pan and turned on the stove. She left the egg shells to be cooked into the pan as well. Uselessly, Elsa forgot the pan off of the stove, on the counter. She finished another glass of white wine, proud that she proved she could in fact handle alcohol like a regular adult. She couldn't remember how many glasses she drank.

"So she's having," Hans leaned on the counter behind him to keep himself from staggering. "She's having an affair at work! That's so crazy!" Feeling daring, Elsa decided to start a food fight. She took an egg and threw it at him, but she missed her aim, and it hit the wall. The crunching sound caused both of them to go into a laughing fit.

"Pffftt, you're not even... You're not even good at throwing anything, Elsa." She put down the carton of eggs. She opened a bag of flour, grabbed clumps of the powder, and threw it at him. Soon, they threw random pieces of food across the kitchen. The kitchen ended up looking like an abstract work of art. Applesauce made its way to the ceiling, and raw salmon slid across the floor. They ruined almost everything in the room with ketchup, except each other. Their liquored aim spared them both of the filth. It was a mess that would require a maid. Skipping towards Hans, Elsa slipped on an egg yolk. She held on to his torso for balance. Being intoxicated himself, he didn't have the balancing skills to keep both of them up. She fell to the ground pulling Hans on top of her laying body. They both snickered hysterically at their fall. She wondered why she found everything so funny, staring at the white flour on his cheek. In the mist of their fun, they enjoyed each other's company.

"I love you," she chuckled. "Like, I really love you. Like a lot."

"Don't love me," he warned. Although his drunken mind felt thrilled to be on top of a beautiful, blonde girl, he rolled off of the female temptation. He turned his face towards her. "It'd make things easier for you, if you didn't."

"You can't tell me what to do!" Elsa barked back, like an enraged teenager trapped in an adult body.

"I didn't cheat. I did… I mean, I didn't cheat on you. Ha, 'didn't' is a weird word." He kept losing his train of thought.

Elsa blurred her words, "Do you like her? Because I'm sure she's prettier than me. It's always those hot girls who text like that."

"No, I don't. I'm with you. I'm not stupid enough to ruin our plan by dating another girl at the same time. I-I've been thinking about it for a while. I think I love you. I really think I do. I wish I didn't, though. Elsa, please don't love me anymore."

"Stop telling me what I can and can't do," she whined. She studied his hooded, green eyes. Even when intoxicated on a kitchen floor, he looked regal. His family's wealthy bloodline came through in his princely face. He was so handsome, it was painful. It became difficult for her to look at him most times. Her heart would race faster than any horse he ever owned could. Only while intoxicated had she granted herself permission to soak in every inch of the tall, attractive man before her. She glanced at his lazy smile, feeling the urge to kiss him. She thought that she might have tried, if Hans didn't start speaking again.

"But Weselton said you wouldn't love me until you saw the ring?" Hans rubbed his eyes from exhaustion.

"What ring?"

"Oh, no. Oh, no. You, you don't tell her, but it's all for you. It's a secret. A secret proposal. Elsa, I'm hungry still. Let's go somewhere." Thirsty, Hans sat up and took another sip from the whiskey bottle her found on the kitchen floor.

"You're proposing to me!?"

"Shhhh." He put a finger to her mouth, not wanting the nonpresent Dr. Weselton to hear her.

"Ha! Hans, you're so stupid! I don't even understand you."

"I'm going to propose to you," he slurred his words. "You didn't hear it from me." Her state of mind prevented her from keeping up with any conversation. She still felt dizzy from the fall. Standing up staggering, they tried to avoid stepping on the food they had thrown.

"So you actually love me, Elsa?" Hans wanted to confirm.

"Why, why didn't you kiss me on our date?" Unable to focus on a steady topic, Elsa digressed with a sad tone. "I know I'm not supposed to, but I wanted you to kiss me. I waited. I really waited for you," she admitted drunkenly. He watched the sorrow stricken girl pout. She felt deeply upset over his goodbye on their date. Her blonde hair swished over shoulders, cascading beautifully. He roughly pushed her against the kitchen counter, kissing her deeply. Elsa's hands slipped into his hair, lightly tugging on his strands. She normally lacked the courage, but tonight she wasn't herself. He lifted her hips on the counter, letting her sit elevated, so they'd be closer to eye level. With Hans standing between her legs, she wrapped her legs around his hips. One of his hands inched up her thigh as the other hand held her waist. She shocked herself by how much she wanted him to touch her. He bit her lower lip softly and squeezed her thick rump. Wincing at his aggressive behavior, she tasted the burning whiskey on his tongue. Still standing between her legs, he started to lightly move his hips rhythmically against hers. He broke their kiss, moving his mouth around her neck. He kissed a spot behind her ear, and her voice hitched with the contact. She still clung to his hair, holding his face down onto her neck. With shallow breathing, her hips began to instinctual move against his. It scared her that her body knew exactly where she wanted to be touched. Lust took over her clouded conscious. He leaned on the counter with one hand, kissing her fiercely. She could tell he grew aroused because she felt a thick, hard bulge through his pants, against her pelvis.

With their bodies in sync, he slowly dug his hips into hers, causing her to gasp, "Hans!" Her legs automatically tried to close upon the feeling, but only ended up squeezing his body forced between her legs. Wrapping her arms around his neck and shoulders, Elsa attempted to cope with the sensation he gave her. Her breath quickened, as his hips continued to roll into hers. His hand inched higher up her thigh, sensually rubbing the fabric of her jeans. Burring her face into the crook of his neck, Elsa had the urge to press against him harder. She felt his back muscles flexing every time he lightly thrust into her. An aroused whimper escaped her, causing him to grind his hips deeply into her. She fought the urge to moan by biting his neck lightly to occupy her mouth, but a small moan still escaped her lips. His hands abandoned her thighs, as he reached down to take off his belt. He struggled with the buckle, but he finally slipped it off. Sweating, Elsa watched him tug at the waist of her jeans. He found his way to her zipper, hungering for her. Hearing the sound of someone opening the front door caused him to drop his belt with a clinging sound. He paused in place, his hand still on the zipper of her jeans. Someone else's muffled voice slipped through the walls. The panic killed the mood.

Elsa whispered, "Oh, no. I-I think my sister might have come home early. She can't know you're here." She prayed Anna wouldn't come into the kitchen. They heard Anna go into the living room, turning off the loud TV. The movie had automatically started to replay itself. How many times had it replayed? 7 minutes later, footsteps of Anna going up the stairs into her bedroom vibrated. With the creaking bedroom door closed, Elsa finally released a breath of relief. The worry made them forget where they left off. They both looked at each other, sliding their hands back to themselves. She slid off the counter and onto the floor. Eyeing the drink on the counter, Hans sipped the wine thirstily. He didn't realize he had been with Elsa for hours. They easily got distracted again. Elsa stole the wine out of his hands and finished the entire glass.

"You've had enough to drink," Hans jealously hissed, upset that she stole his drink.

"I'm twenty-one. It's fine! I'm an adult. I'm legal. I'm twenty-one, and I can drink as much as I want."

"You're too drunk," he hypocritically judged.

"Shhh," she silenced him, afraid he'd tell on her. "I already told you: I'm a grown up. I can do whatever I want." Time kept flying by. They ran around different rooms of her house, drunkenly chasing each other. They knocked over a vase and a few other pieces of home décor, along the way. Neither of them had noticed or cared for the mess they created. Whenever he caught her in their game of chase, he'd spin her around in victory. Occasionally, she'd kiss his cheek when he won as a prize. At 5:00 AM, they found themselves slow dancing to some old CD Hans had found while running after Elsa. He tried to twirl her, but Elsa kept tripping. Instead, she hugged him closely and swayed.

"I think this song was the one they played at my parent's wedding. That's what my mother used to tell me, at least," tipsy Elsa revealed.

"Does this song make you sad?"

"No, not with you at least. I don't feel sad with you."

"Really?"

Elsa announced, "I'm glad you came. I didn't want to be alone tonight. This house is so big. I hate it. It feels empty all the time. I wish other people were in here all the time, like a castle." Hans held her tighter, stroking her hair. She still felt, but now she felt like a tired drunk.

"You wouldn't want that. Everyone is just so... dishonest."

"That's totally not true," she bickered.

"Yes, they are. Trust me."

"Well, you're not."

"How'd you know?" Hans thought of the times he almost sold Elsa out to the blackmailer. He thought of how angry she became when she read his texts.

"You're the nicest person ever. I know you more than you give me credit." He rested his chin on the top of her head. He had the most fun with Elsa in one night than he had in a long time. If a good time was the most honest thing in the universe, then why did he feel like he was the only liar there?

"Elsa, you're too good of a person." It was a slight warning. Her trust was in him the very thing his blackmailer depended on. When the morning came, they were asleep in an empty, white, oval bathtub. He slept on his back, and she curled on her side. Her head supported on his chest, and his arms hugged her. All three bottles were empty. It was 1:00 PM, and they were hours late for work. Her neck ached from stiffness of the bathtub. Sunlight peaked through the colossal, bay window. She woke up from the bright window light. Her eyes glancing around her, realizing she slept cuddling him. Not wanting to leave the comfort of his body, she tried not to wake him until she finished done savoring the moment. She closed her eyes, feeling him take in slow, drowsy breaths. Unexpectedly, he rolled over leaving her body. Disappointed and hung over, she sat up.

"Hans?" Elsa tapped his back. He groaned sleepily and shifted to his other side.

"Go to hell," he mumbled.

"Seriously?"

"Just five more minutes."

"Wake up!" She whispered louder. He opened his eyes when he recognized Elsa's voice. Still laying down, his eyes darted around the bathroom. Everything in the bathroom was white with a few accents of gold. Unaware of how he ended up in a bathtub, he sat up quickly.

"What happened? Are we still at your house?" His throat felt sore waking up, and his hair was tousled. Looking down at himself, he finally noticed his belt was missing. He tried to recall how it happened, but his mind blanked.

Elsa groaned, "Yeah. I don't remember everything, but I do remember watching a movie... and a food fight. You came over here to say sorry or something." Elsa also remembered him grinding his hips on hers, but didn't think she should mention it.

"Oh, right. Sorry for ruining your kitchen. You don't remember me saying anything else, do you?" He thought of the ring. His memory had a lot of missing time gaps. It bothered him that he couldn't figure out how they'd gotten in her bathtub.

"You said a lot of things, Hans." She shied away from bluntly saying it.

"Like what?"

"I think you said you loved me." Her heart started to race.

"I... did?" Hans swallowed.

Elsa murmured, "You even said something about proposing to me. I can't remember it exactly. Why'd you say that?" He had a worried expression on his face. He didn't recollect any of it. Did he spill the proposal secret?

"I don't know," he fibbed. He looked down at the floor. It was hard to make eye contact with a conversation topic like that. Hans denounced, "I was just drunkenly blabbering about that proposal. I'm not... I wouldn't..." Elsa's face dropped. They both stood up, aching from their slumber.

"Was the other part true?" The part that he loved her? He felt a blush cross his face. He wasn't sure of what to say to that. It'd be offensive and cold to blatantly announce to a girl you'd never love her, especially if she asked. Even if she didn't ask under the pretenses that the feeling was mutual, he couldn't bring himself to cruelly say it. It felt too harsh to say aloud. She grew embarrassed for mentioning it. Saving him from having to answer, they heard Anna shriek at the mess, as she went into the kitchen. They forgot the stove on all night, but no fire started. The broken eggs dried on the walls, the flour pooled all over the floor, and the sour-dough bread scattered in random corners.

"You should leave," Elsa pressured. She climbed out of the bathtub, looking at her reflection in the mirror. She prodded her tangled hair and smudged eyeliner. Although he thought it'd be too weird to tell her, he found it oddly attractive to see her waking-up appearance. He enjoyed her ruined mascara, loose hair, and rested face. She typically dolled herself up modestly. The morning was the raw, untouched version of her. And he was the only guy to get front row tickets to see it. Hurriedly, he picked up his jacket from the bathroom floor.

Elsa croaked, thirsting for water, "Are you going to work?" She covered her eyes with her hands, still not used to the bright sun light. "I can't go like this. I feel awful."

Hans sighed, "I'm going to skip work, too. My head is aching too much." Their hang overs punished them for their alcohol abused night. Hearing Anna shriek once more at the mess, they decided Hans needed to sneak out immediately. They both tip toed to the front door, avoiding the startled little sibling at all costs.

"I never thought I'd hear you say that," she mocked. She twisted the door knob slowly, eliminating any chances of creaking. The door opened languidly.

Hans emphasized, "I could say the same for you. You never take risks." They never missed work for different reasons. For Hans, it was his chance to prove himself. For Elsa, because she always followed the rules.

"Work isn't really a place to be taking risks," Elsa justified. Hans stepped on the other side of the door, waiting. He didn't want to walk away yet, not with something still on his mind. She gazed at him, smiling from the corner of her mouth as she reminisce their last night adventures. His sleepy, morning voice mesmerized her. She listened contently, almost closing her eyes at the hum of his speech.

Hans uttered in a meaningful tone, "Speaking of risks, are you still mad at me?"

She shook her head, "I can't stay mad at you forever."

"I think we should stay in a fake relationship for work. We worked so hard on it at the ball. It'd be a waste for us to just throw it all away."

"The deal's back on," Elsa forgave. She added, "Sorry I asked you if you loved me. It was a stupid question." She hoped apologizing for it would make it less tense between them. It only increased the embarrassment.

"It's not stupid at all," Hans accidentally let slip out. Hans felt his stomach sink. He shouldn't have said that. He was afraid to say he loved her out loud. If he heard himself say it out loud, he worried he might believe himself. Her eyes widened, unsure if she understood him correctly. She assumed he couldn't have meant what she thought. They both stared at each other until they heard another nose from Anna in the kitchen. Elsa rubbed her tired eyes.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Hans." She closed the door slowly, biting her lip playfully as she watched him disappear behind it.