My haunted lungs
Ghost in the sheets
I know if I'm haunting you
You must be haunting me
"Haunted," Beyoncé
–
A nauseating smell, like sweat and something else, permeated Elsa's senses before she was fully awake. It filled her nostrils as her remaining senses came to; the sheets around her body felt damp, and the skin of her inner thighs felt simultaneously sticky and tight from the substances that had dried on them.
It took the dazed young woman another minute to open her eyes to see that she was still in her bra and underwear; the tiniest hint of gray dawn light peaked in through her bedroom window, and, glancing at the clock on her bedside table, she visibly winced upon realizing that it was already after six in the morning.
All at once, visions of the previous night came rushing to the forefront of her mind, and Elsa reeled from what she remembered.
She had done it; she had finally had sex with Hans.
Yet, he was nowhere to be found. The bed beside her was empty, and his clothes were missing from her bedroom floor. The bathroom door was ajar, the lights left on, but no one was inside.
Elsa fought the bile that surged in her throat at the revelation, clutching a hand to her stomach to try to ease the butterflies that flitted there. Half-awake, she pushed the dirty comforter off of herself and rushed to the bathroom, desperate to scrub the lingering remnants of intercourse with her sister's ex-fiance from her flesh before her body purged it another way. She didn't even bother to wait for the water to turn hot before jumping into the shower, lingerie and all.
She stayed in the shower a little longer than usual before emerging at a quarter to eight, wrapping herself in her house robe and retrieving her slippers before making her way downstairs. She felt incredibly sore, but not as sore as she expected, each step jolting her and reminding her of what she had done.
She entered the kitchen to see everything still as it had been when she had left it the night before: the untouched water glass in front of the chair that Hans had been sitting in; the bundle of envelopes on the table; the bloodied cloth in the sink. She picked up her phone from where she had left it on the counter and wasn't surprised to see that Hans hadn't left her a message or otherwise made any sort of attempt to contact her. Despite herself, her heart sank at his callousness. He hadn't even bothered to leave a note.
With a deflated sigh, she set the device back down. Perhaps he was feeling just as shell shocked by their evening together as she was– or maybe he had already committed to forgetting the encounter had ever occurred. Which, she figured, she should too.
Hans had succeeded in getting what he had wanted after all. But, Elsa supposed as she ran a bare hand over the letters yet to be opened, she had gotten what she had wanted as well.
Or had she?
She wrung her fingers together, pondering whether or not she should attempt to call Hans or send him a text message, but ultimately decided against it. She didn't have the time nor energy to dwell on the fact that she had been passionately deflowered at last by Hans Westergaard, quite possibly the most hated and charismatic man in Manhattan; she was due at Anna and Kristoff's home before dinnertime, and she had a long drive ahead of her. Ruminating on the surrealness of her time with Hans would only hold her back from her real life.
–
Most of the roads to Cape Cod were treacherously icy from a recent winter storm that had ravaged New England and most of the East Coast, and so Elsa took it slow, leaving her alone with plenty of time to think.
To Elsa, being left with nothing to distract her from her thoughts was like living a nightmare. That's why she had always gone above and beyond in her work, committing to her role as CEO with such dedication and determination; anything to wholly occupy her mind during her waking hours. She tried her damnedest to focus instead on driving and the beauty of the snow-covered scenery as it floated past, but the occasional thought of Hans still managed to sneak in here and there, causing the soreness at the apex of her thighs to throb.
Having been unable to deal with the aftermath of their lovemaking before leaving, Elsa had called a local launderer to pick up her soiled bedding before swiftly packing her overnight bag and heading out of the door and into her white Lincoln SUV. Anna and Kristoff had invited her to stay for the weekend earlier in the week, before Anna and Kristoff headed back to New York City full-time in anticipation of both the trial against Hans and Baby Bjorgman's arrival. Elsa could hardly believe the time had come already. Yet, Anna was due any day now, and the fact that her due date nearly coincided with the court date seemed like a cruel twist of fate.
Elsa arrived at the Cape estate without much fanfare, the snow and ice crunching beneath her tires as she pulled up the drive. Kristoff was outside almost immediately to help her with her bag, while Anna watched from the window, shivering for dramatic effect; she had always been sensitive to the cold, but it had never bothered Elsa much.
"You came!" Anna shouted gleefully as soon as Elsa was over the threshold, throwing her arm as around her older sibling in a welcoming hug.
"I said that I would," Elsa laughed, brushing the snow off of the arms of her winter coat with a flat, gloved palm. The smell of a savory, home-cooked meal wafted to Elsa's nostrils then and her stomach growled in response; it occurred to her that she hadn't eaten since the previous evening and was feeling absolutely famished. More so than usual.
Anna seemed to take notice of Elsa's present state.
"Kristoff's been cooking all day," she half-boasted, half-informed her sister, leaning in close. "He's such an amazing cook. Who would've known?"
Elsa had dined over at Anna and Kristoff's a few times before, but Anna had always been the one to prepare the meals; the younger Arendelle knew that it was a risk to attempt to have her older sister eat food that had been made by anyone else, so having Kristoff prepare dinner was taking a huge step; one that Elsa was surprised to feel that she was ready for.
"It smells great," Elsa assured her. She smiled for good measure, and Anna smiled back, offering her arm to her sister as they made their way to the dining room together.
–
"Kristoff, that was delicious. Anna wasn't kidding about you being a great cook."
Kristoff's meal of roasted potatoes, stewed carrots, and beef brisket left Elsa feeling sated and warm; it had been even more delicious than it had smelled, and Elsa's usual bird-like appetite had swelled to epic Anna-rific proportions, causing her to eat more than usual. She assumed it was because of the previous night's activities with Hans, and she felt the blush that graced her cheeks at the memory; she hoped that it could be attributed to the warmth of the room.
"Maybe someday we'll be eating dinner at your house with you and your husband," Anna teased between spoonfuls of potatoes as Kristoff began clearing the table.
"Or wife," she added as an afterthought with a shrug.
Elsa shook her head. "Or maybe it'll just be me and my ten cats."
"But you hate animals."
"It was a joke." She set her fork down in her empty plate with a sigh; Kristoff added it to the stack he was already balancing in the crook of his elbow before disappearing into the kitchen. "Speaking of cats, where's Olaf hiding?"
Anna rolled her eyes and threw her hand up with a flick of her wrist. "Who knows. He's been such a brat ever since we started work in the nursery."
As soon as the words left her lips, she clapped a hand over her mouth, as though she had just inadvertently spilled some deep, dark secret– which, Elsa supposed, she had.
"You're planning on living here full-time?" the elder Arendelle asked; it was the first she had heard of any plans for the budding Bjorgman family to move to the Cape estate permanently.
Anna offered her sister a sheepish expression. "I'm sorry, Elsa. I should have consulted with you first."
Elsa forced a smile on her own face, waving off her concern with a royal blue glove. "Don't worry about it. I think it's great."
The pained sensation in Elsa's chest conflicted with her words; her last living relative was moving away. Her only sister and only companion.
Elsa would really end up all alone in New York after all.
Her anguish must have been plastered across her face, because after a terse moment of strained silence between them as the severity of Anna's confession sank in, Anna spoke first.
"Elsa, can I ask you something?"
The blonde-haired sister ticked her head upward, her attention piqued, but felt her blood run cold at the gravity of such a question. "Yes, of course."
"We're sisters, right?"
Elsa snorted. "That's what you wanted to ask me?"
"Yes– I mean, no." Anna wrung her hands anxiously in front of herself– a habit that was typically Elsa's. "But if something was wrong– if you were… dealing with something… you'd tell me?"
Elsa's heart nearly froze in her chest. Perhaps it was simply paranoia, but for the briefest moment she worried that Anna knew about her and Hans. It made her ill almost immediately.
"You know that I would," she forced out at last, wondering just how much Anna knew, if she knew anything. "Why do you ask?"
Anna shrugged. "I can tell that you've been struggling with something lately. I don't know if it's just the pressures of being CEO, or the court case stuff, or something else entirely, but I'm worried. I don't want you to shut yourself away from the world again. Away from me. I don't think I could handle it if you did."
Tears sparkled in Anna's eyes and the sight wrenched at Elsa's own heartstrings; she felt lower than low. How could she have so blatantly betrayed her sister– the person she loved more than anyone or anything in the world– by fooling around with Hans and his game of seduction?
When she reached across the distance between their chairs and pulled her younger sister in for a hug, she hoped that the guilt on her face wasn't evident.
"I'm so sorry, Anna," she choked out, not realizing that she was crying as well until she felt the dampness of salty tears on her own cheeks. "I'm so sorry."
"Sorry for what?" Anna sniffled with a laugh, pulling away. "I just want to make sure that you're okay."
Elsa straightened up and dabbed at her eyes. "I'm fine. Everything is… fine."
"Are you sure? I don't think I've seen you cry about anything since Mama and Papa. It must be serious."
"You're right. It is serious." Elsa inhaled a shaky breath. "But I'm afraid that if I tell you, you'll hate me."
"Oh, Elsa. There's nothing that you could ever do that could make me hate you." Anna reached across the table to clasp Elsa's hand in her own. "You're my sister. I love you."
"I love you, too," Elsa sniffed. "But whatever it was, it's over now. So I don't want you to worry about it. Okay?"
"Okay." Anna squeezed her hand for good measure. "I just want you to be happy."
Elsa's lips cracked into a sad smile that caused the corners of her wet eyes to crinkle. "I am."
"Promise?"
She let out a breathy laugh. "I promise."
Anna smiled back. "So, do you want to see it? The nursery, I mean."
"I'd love to."
–
Kristoff and Anna stayed in the seaside master suite, so Elsa was content to take the guest bedroom on the upper floor. It was a plain room, with clean white linens and a window overlooking the starry sky and beach below. She considered a late night walk on the beach before bed, but ultimately decided against it; despite the cold, which Elsa found bearable, it was the strong winds that would make a winter stroll miserable.
She dressed for bed uneventfully, changing from her day clothes into the sleeping gown she had packed in her overnight bag; it was made of pale blue silk and felt much better than the stiff and soiled undergarments that she had slept in the previous evening.
Elsa clutched a hand to her abdomen at remembering the previous night with Hans. It could never happen again, that much she knew for certain; it should have never happened in the first place.
Yet, she couldn't find it in herself to regret it altogether. The experience, although awkward and inappropriate, had been one of the most exhilarating of her lackluster life. Reminiscing about Hans's hands and lips on her body gripping and biting and grazing her skin, his hard length pumping in and out of her tight heat until she was brought to explosive orgasm, caused a fire to light in her center, riling her up until she was fully aroused and wanting more.
But she could never have more.
She'd have to file her experience with Hans away as another finished chapter in her mess of a life. She'd forget about him and move forward with her uneventful existence as she had always intended. She was never one to make waves, and she wasn't keen on doing so. Especially not when the stakes were so high.
With a exhausted sigh, Elsa pulled back the covers and slipped beneath them, reveling in the fresh scent of detergent (and not post-sex funk) that filled her nostrils.
No sooner had she settled in to sleep than her phone lit up from its resting place on the bedside table, washing the wall beside the bed in bluish light. Curious, Elsa rolled over to reach for the device, picking it up only to see Hans's name splayed across the screen with a simple message:
Can I see you again?
–
A/N: To all of my readers, I am deeply sorry for my prolonged absence. Last year was a rough ride for me from start to finish. The professional, romantic, and familial aspects of my life all broke down (almost simultaneously) and I was in a very dark place for a very long time. I was unemployed for most of the year, didn't speak to my family because of a bad situation, and my relationship of four years fell apart. It took a lot of effort and time and willpower on my part to restructure my life to be able to move forward on my own and continue in a new career. I am happy to say that I am doing better now and plan on updating at least one fic per month with at least one chapter at a time. Thank you for understanding, and as always reviews are so very much appreciated.