Chapter 14: The First Date

-Anna-

Anna typically dressed in one of two ways: casual or professional. For her casual moments, she wore jeans or yoga pants with a t-shirt and sneakers, and her hair was usually twisted into twin braids on either side of her head. For work, she wore skirt suits or slacks with a nice blouse, and tied her hair back in a bun. She didn't had much of a social life, so her appearance rarely deviated from her usual.

As a result, the reflection she saw in the full length mirror hanging on her bedroom door looked completely foreign to her, and she wasn't sure if she liked what she saw. Not knowing where Kristoff was taking her, she'd chosen between the two dresses she owned that could pass for both casual and upscale settings. She decided against the black one after realizing she wore a lot of black for work, instead settling on the burgundy one. It was a cocktail dress with a modest neckline; it started to flare at the waist and fell just above her knees. Anna had combined it with kitten-heeled black pumps, her silver charm bracelet, a simple necklace, and a black clutch. Her hair was different, too. She'd contemplated pulling it back in a ponytail or fancy twist, but instead opted to leave it down. She'd curled the ends of her long, shiny locks, and they tumbled to the middle of her back in soft waves.

Though she looked lovely, all Anna could focus on was the negatives. She scoffed at her small breasts, and for a moment considered changing into the black dress; it had a lower neckline, and if she paired it with a push-up bra, she could show off what little she had. She did have a waist cincher; though she loathed the thought of wearing it, maybe it would make her narrow hips look more pronounced. Her ankles looked lumpy and she hated them. She should have gotten a manicure. Did she still have time to put on more make-up? What if Kristoff didn't like the smell of the tiny dash of perfume she'd put on?

She glanced at the clock, and upon realizing it was already 6:15, Anna sighed. Kristoff would be there to pick her up soon, and there was no time to change her outfit, hair, or anything else. She dejectedly sat on the edge of her bed. All she wanted to do was impress Kristoff, and if he spotted all the bad things, too, how was that ever going to happen? Maybe her business attire had deceived him into thinking she was more curvy and womanly than she actually was. Maybe the dress would disappoint him.

Anna jumped when, at 6:22, a loud buzz rang in her living room, indicating that someone was ringing her doorbell downstairs. She drew in a deep breath as she walked to her front door and pressed the button for the speaker.

"Hello?" she said.

"Hi… Anna?" the voice on the other end stammered. "It's me. Sorry, I… uh, I mean, it's Kristoff. Kristoff Bjorgman, your… your date?"

She involuntarily giggled, and that was all it took. Though she was still a bit jittery, she could feel herself relax as she remembered that this was Kristoff. This was harmless, lovable, sweet Kristoff, and he was just as nervous as she was.

"Hi, Kristoff. Come on up."

She held down the button on the right for three full seconds to unlock the front door to her apartment building. Knowing Kristoff had to ascend three flights of stairs (or take the obscenely slow elevator), Anna jogged to her bathroom for one last look. She ran her brush through her hair a few times and softly rubbed her jawline to make sure her make-up was perfectly blended with her skin. She almost grabbed her toothbrush, but there was no time and, quite frankly, the point was moot; she'd already brushed her teeth thoroughly four times.

Within two minutes, there was a knock at her door. She half walked, half ran to answer it. Before opening it, she patted down her hair. She smoothed her dress. She patted down her hair again. She breathed on her hand and took a whiff, just in case. Then, she slowly opened the door, inhaling deeply as she did so.

And there, wearing khakis and a dress shirt and holding a bouquet of wildflowers, was Kristoff.

They both stood there in a shocked silence with wide eyes and quivering lips that wanted to curve into smiles, but were too in awe to do so. Though it lasted only a few seconds, it felt like hours before Kristoff spoke.

"Hi," was all he choked out, mouth finally morphing into a goofy grin.

"Hello," Anna breathed. A soft, involuntary giggle slipped out with it.

"Whoa…"

His sentiment came out in a hushed whisper, and Anna felt her face flush as Kristoff's eyes took a brief scan of her. She wasn't angry that he'd done so; considering that she'd done the same to him, she had no right to be mad. However, the insecurity she felt under his gaze was instantaneous and she flew into a panic.

"I'm sorry," she blabbered, bringing a nervous hand to her hair, "am I overdressed? Or underdressed? Sorry, I just wasn't sure where we were going. Sorry. Just give me a minute. I'll go change."

"No!" It came out more strongly than he'd intended, Anna suspected, because he immediately blushed and apologized. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to shout. I just… well… please don't change. You… you look beautiful."

Anna's eyes widened. "I… I do?"

"Yes."

"Oh," she gasped, unable to contain a smile. "Th-thank you. You look beautifuller. Wait, what? I mean, you look beautiful, too. No, wait… handsome. You look very, very handsome."

By this point, Anna was certain her cheeks were darker than her dress, but she relaxed when Kristoff smiled.

"Thank you. That's kind of you to say."

"You're welcome." They smiled at each other for a few more seconds before she realized that Kristoff was still on the other side of the threshold. "Oh, sorry! Please, come in."

She stepped aside so Kristoff could enter her apartment. As if it was second nature, they both opened their arms for a hug, and Anna guessed it would have lasted more than a millisecond had the sound of crunching cellophane not interrupted them. Kristoff pulled back in haste as his blush returned.

"Sorry. These are for you," he said, holding the bouquet out with a shaking hand. "I wasn't sure what your favorite flower is, but I, uh… I remembered you said your favorite color is purple, so I just got a bunch of purple ones. And a couple of sunflowers, because… well, just because."

"Thank you," Anna murmured. "They're beautiful. And sunflowers are my favorite! Somehow you must have known."

"Really?"

"Really."

Kristoff smiled. "Cool."

"I'm just going to go put these in a vase, okay? I'll be right back."

Anna stepped into the kitchen and fetched a vase from one of the cabinets. She filled it with water, tore the cellophane away from the bouquet, and shoved the flowers in; she'd give them a proper trimming and sorting later. Right now, she was too eager to begin the evening to worry about how awkward and tall they looked.

"I'll, um… I'll just get my coat?" she said to Kristoff once back in the living room. "Unless there's no rush?"

Kristoff nodded. "No, that'd be good. Our reservation is for 7:15, so… yeah."

"Okay." She grabbed her black, double-breasted peacoat from her closet and slipped it over her shoulders. As she buttoned it up and tied the belt in a loose knot, she queried, "so, where are we going, if you don't mind me asking?"

"It's a French restaurant. I've never been there, but a friend recommended it. It's about twenty minutes outside of the city. Is that okay? If you'd rather stay close to home, I can call and cancel. Really, we'll do whatever you want."

"No, no," Anna assured him. "Kristoff, it sounds lovely. I'm looking forward to it."

Kristoff smiled. "I, uh… I'm told they have good steaks."

"Hm. I do love a good steak," Anna hummed.

"I remember."

Anna nibbled on her lip and grinned. Kristoff remembered her favorite color and favorite food. He'd actually been listening, and cared enough to remember the things she said. To say she was flattered was an understatement.

"So, um… shall we?" Kristoff asked. He took two steps closer to her and gingerly offered her his hand. Anna smiled and laced her fingers with his.

"We shall."

"Good evening," came the voice of a young man; their waiter had arrived at their table. As he poured iced water from a crystal pitcher into two glasses on the table, he said, "my name is Stephen, and I'll be taking care of you this evening. Do you have any questions about the menu?"

Kristoff and Anna shared a glance at one another, and Kristoff seemed to read her mind.

"We don't, but thank you," he answered for them both.

"Excellent. Do you need a few more minutes to decide?"

"Yes, please."

"Of course. Take all the time you need."

As Stephen departed, leaving them alone once more, Anna took a deep breath. She stared down at her menu, but did not really read it, for her mind was reeling with anxiety. This was a date… with Kristoff. She was one a date with a professional athlete, someone whom she was friends with and deeply admired, and it was only a matter of time before she did something stupid and ruined the evening. To top it off, the restaurant Kristoff had chosen was cozy and intimate, and they were two of the few guests present on the weeknight. She glanced up temporarily, breath catching in her throat when she saw Kristoff eyeing her. She reciprocated his smile.

"This… um… this place is really nice," Anna commented. "It's lovely."

"Yeah, I like it," Kristoff agreed. "Do you have any thoughts on what you might like to eat?"

"Oh, um…"

She wanted steak. She really wanted steak. But wouldn't that look bad? After all, if it was bad after countless dates when she was with Hans, surely it wouldn't make a good impression on her first with Kristoff. Steak wasn't the healthiest thing, and she didn't want to look like a glutton.

"The salads sound good," Anna thought aloud, scanning over the menu again. "Or maybe even the cod."

"Oh. Not getting a steak?"

"Hm?"

"Nothing. I just thought… well, with it being your favorite…" Kristoff began, but he immediately blushed and started over. "I'm sorry. That was rude of me. You should eat whatever you want."

"The steak does sound delicious," she murmured thoughtfully. "But I…"

"What?"

"It's just… are you sure you wouldn't mind?"

Kristoff shook his head and smiled. "Why would I mind? Anna, please, choose whatever you want. Anything."

"Have we reached a decision?" Stephen had returned, prepared to take their orders. "If you need more time, I can come back."

Kristoff looked at Anna.

"You can go first," she whispered.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, just… yeah."

"Okay," he agreed, then turned to their waiter. "I'd like the top sirloin, please, medium-well."

"And for your sides?"

"Um… I'll go with the scalloped potatoes and green beans, please."

"Certainly. Your meal comes with your choice of soup or salad."

"Soup, please. Do you have French onion?"

"Yes, topped with gruyere cheese."

"That's perfect, thank you."

Stephen then turned to Anna. "And for you, miss?"

Anna glanced at Kristoff, then back at her menu, then back at Kristoff. He had a small, patient smile on his face, and she knew he'd meant every word he said. He wanted her to enjoy herself.

He wasn't Hans.

"I'll have the filet mignon, please," Anna declared, "medium, with mashed potatoes and broccoli."

"Excellent choice. And would you like soup or salad?"

"Salad, please."

"That comes with our own house dressing, unless you have another preference?"

"The house dressing is fine, thank you."

"My pleasure. This evening, we are featuring a full-bodied merlot that is sure to compliment both of your meals. I'd be glad to bring you a bottle, or would you prefer to see our extensive wine list?"

Anna and Kristoff both agreed the merlot would suffice, and were subsequently left alone again.

"You didn't have to order the steak, you know," Kristoff said. "If you really wanted the cod, I mean."

"No, I did," Anna assured him. "I was just nervous to order it, that's all."

"May I ask why? Sorry," he added quickly. "You don't have to answer that."

"No, no, it's okay," Anna conceded with a nod. "It's just… well, I had this boyfriend."

"Ah," Kristoff said with a smile.

"He was just… well, he was a bit of a health nut," Anna blabbered. "Er, with me, I mean. He was always concerned that I stayed healthy and sort of monitored what I ate, and… yeah. Sorry. This isn't a topic well suited for a date, is it?"

She finished with a nervous laugh and could feel her cheeks burning a bright, fire engine red. Kristoff, however, was frowning, and she felt her stomach drop.

Great. He thinks you're crazy, Anna thought. Way to go.

"He… monitored what you ate?" Kristoff asked incredulously.

"Well… yeah," Anna mumbled. "I didn't see at the time how abnormal that was. Stupid, right? I mean, things are better now, but the feeling's still in the back of my mind, I guess. Sorry, you must think I'm a freak…"

"No, not at all," Kristoff refuted. "Everyone has something, you know? I'm just so sorry you were made to feel that way."

Anna smiled and looked down at her lap. For a brief, fleeting moment, she wondered what Kristoff's something was. She knew so little about him, yet yearned to know so much. She wanted to learn the good, the bad, and every major and miniscule thing in between. What shaped him? What made him so polite, humble, and delicately intimidating? He was a complete mystery, a fact which both fascinated and frightened her.

Before she could even think of something to say, let alone say it, Stephen had arrived again with a tray. He presented them with their wine and a basket of fresh rolls, along with their respective appetizers. After he poured them each a glass of merlot, he was gone again.

"How's your soup?" Anna asked after a minute.

"Delicious," he hummed. "Would you like to try some?"

Anna loved onions and almost said yes, but stopped herself just in time. What if they kissed later? She couldn't have onion breath for their goodnight kiss.

"Thank you, but you enjoy it," she politely declined. "I love French onion soup, though."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"I… um, I actually make a pretty decent one."

Anna raised an eyebrow. "What? Really?"

"Yeah," Kristoff said with a nod. A faint blush crept across his cheeks. "I really like to cook."

"Really?" Anna asked again. "What do you like to cook?"

"Anything, really. I experiment a lot."

"More power to you. I'm not good in the kitchen," she admitted sheepishly. "I can make a few things, but I'm too impatient. Where'd you learn?"

"Brenda taught me," Kristoff said. When Anna tilted her head, Kristoff smiled and continued. "Sorry, I should clarify. Brenda's my foster mom. She and her husband, Cliff, took me in when I was just shy of twelve. I was supposed to be with them temporarily, but I just sort of stayed with them until I was of age, and then some. They're great people. I still visit and call them often. Sorry, this is boring, isn't it?"

"No, not at all!" Anna assured him. She hadn't realized she'd put down her salad fork and folded her arms in front of her, latching on to every word he said. "What are they like?"

Kristoff grinned and seemingly breathed a sigh of relief.

"Well, they've got a big Irish family," Kristoff said. "Huge. They just never had kids of their own. Cliff works for the postal service and Brenda used to be a music teacher. She got the chance to retire early and took it without thinking twice. Anyway, they've got a little house in Franconia and they don't have a lot of money, but… well, they were good to me. Still are. They're two of the best people I've ever known. Don't know where I'd be without them."

"Wow," Anna breathed. "They sound wonderful."

"They really are."

"Where were you before you lived with them?" She remembered him saying he lost his mother when he was seven, so there was a few years in between that tragedy and him finding Brenda and Cliff.

"Oh, um… a different family," Kristoff mumbled.

He glanced off to the side for a moment and did not elaborate. Anna felt the shame rise in her cheeks. How could she have asked such a thing? That was incredibly private and she had no right to inquire about such matters. This, she suspected from his reaction, was Kristoff's something, or at least one of a few.

"I… I apologize," Anna stammered, feeling like she might start crying. "That was uncalled for."

"It's okay."

"If you want me to go, I will. I can call I cab. I-"

"What? Anna, no," he hushed. As if on instinct, he reached across the table to gently take hold of her hand. "No, of course I don't want you to go. I'm having too good of a time for that."

"You… you are? Even after…?"

"It doesn't matter," Kristoff assured her. "It's just… well, it's a long story. Not suited for a date, if I may borrow your earlier words. Please don't worry about it."

Anna nodded. "Okay."

Kristoff offered her a comforting smile that would have made everything better were it not for her nerves. Anna, still paranoid that she'd ruined everything, was powerless to stop her fearful unrest from taking the reins of her mouth.

"I'm sorry," she repeated. "My history – with dating, I mean – it's… well, it isn't good. A lot of things went wrong and now I'm a mess. I don't know how to act and god, I'm making it worse, aren't I? I'm so sorry, Kristoff…"

"Anna," he murmured. "I have ghosts, too. You think I'm not nervous about being here with you? Trust me, I understand how you feel."

"Is this night a disaster?" she whimpered.

She felt Kristoff tenderly squeeze her hand. When Anna's eyes meet his, she could see his forthcoming answer, but she yearned to hear it nonetheless.

"Not even close," he said. Anna let out sigh of relief as he continued. "Anna, I… I like you. I like talking with you. That's why I asked you out tonight."

Anna smiled. "I like you, too. I… I just want to get to know you better. I want to know everything. Sorry, I-"

"Please, don't be sorry. And I do, too," he agreed. "You're one of the most interesting people I've ever met. But how about we keep it simple for tonight? Let's only talk about good things, fun things. We can talk about all the other stuff in due time. If… if you want to, I mean. Deal?"

Anna took a deep breath and nodded. "Deal."

Nearly three hours later, Anna was in a delightful haze of adoration and wonder. She knew their dinner had been phenomenal, right down to the strawberries and dish of rich chocolate mousse they'd shared for dessert, yet the whole night was a bit of a blur. Perhaps it was the wine. Maybe it was because she was so engulfed in his warmth as he snuggled her close while he walked her home. Either way, Anna really couldn't remember specifics in that moment. All she knew was she'd just spent the evening with a man who truly admired her, listened to her, and valued what she had to say. She'd never known such care and consideration was possible.

With the majority of people already home for the evening, Kristoff had to park a little ways away from her apartment building. This was fine with her, as it gave her an excuse to prolong her time with him, even if just for a little while. He'd wrapped an arm around her in an attempt to shelter her from the brisk, chilly wind of late November, and she rested her head against him while talking small, slow steps. Her arm was draped lazily around his lower back.

Anna withheld a disappointed sigh when her building came into view; she wasn't ready to say goodbye to him. She wracked her brain for some eloquent way to thank him not only for the dinner (which he insisted on paying for despite her urging they split the check), but for spending time with her. How was Anna supposed to tell him how much it meant that he'd taken three hours of his precious time off to sit with her, share a meal with her, talk to her, listen to her? Was there a way to tell him how important and special he'd made her feel just by actually looking at her as she spoke? The problem was Anna did not know if those things were anomalies worthy of gushing over, or normal things she'd just never experienced on a date. They'd agreed to focus only on positives that night; if she brought up how much these likely standard things meant to her, she feared she'd scare him off.

Much to her relief, Kristoff spoke first.

"I, um… I had a wonderful time with you tonight," he said softly.

"Me, too," Anna agreed. "Kristoff, thank you so much. I had an amazing time."

"I was thinking… uh, maybe we could do it again, if you want?" he stammered. "Maybe we could go see a movie?"

Anna smiled and nodded. "That sounds like fun. I haven't been to a movie in… gosh, I don't even know. It's been years."

"Oh. Not a fan of movies?"

"Oh, no, I am," Anna clarified. "I watch them all the time at home. But actually going to the theater to see one, well… it's been a while. I don't get out much." She said the last part sheepishly; she was making herself sound awfully old.

"Gotcha," Kristoff said. "I just love it. In Franconia, there used to be a little second-run theater that had Two-Dollar Tuesdays. I went a lot when I was younger. Cheaper than a lot of other things kids my age were doing, you know?"

"What's your favorite movie?"

"My favorite movie," Kristoff repeated with a sigh. "That's a tough one. There's so many. But if I had to pick… probably Back to the Future."

"Never seen it."

"What?!"

"Nope," Anna said with a shrug. "Never even heard of it, to be honest."

"What?!" Kristoff laughed. "Oh dear, we're going to have to fix that. It's great. I really think you'd like it."

Anna giggled. "Well, I'm willing to give it a try."

"Cool. We'll have to arrange something, then."

Somehow, they were already at the door to her building, and Kristoff shifted so they were standing face to face. As Anna stared at him, time froze, and that was fine with her because she didn't want to see him go. Their hands found each other's and they held on gently.

"Did you mean what you said before?" Kristoff asked. "About going out again?"

Anna nodded. "Of course. Why would I lie about that?"

Kristoff smiled and shrugged. "I don't know. I'm just boring. I didn't think-"

"You're not boring!" Anna countered. "If anything, I'm the boring one. Kristoff… I love talking with you. You're fun to be around. You're far from boring."

"Well, thank you," he said humbly, "because I really want to do this again. Go out with you, I mean."

"Me, too."

"And do you still want to play hockey? We've been slacking on that."

"Oh, of course!" she exclaimed. "I'd love to! I mean, if you still want to."

"I do," he said quickly. "Very much. It's a lot of fun."

"Yeah, it is."

Their faces had magically pulled closer together, so much so that Anna could feel Kristoff's warm, ragged breath against her lips.

"Kristoff?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you again. Thank you for tonight. It was fantastic."

"Of course. And thank you for joining me. You're… well, I like you."

Anna giggled. "I like you, too."

"Anna?"

"Mhm?"

"May I… I mean, would it be alright if… I, um… if I kissed you goodnight?"

"Yes, please."

They both grinned at one another before locking their lips together in a sweet caress. As far as Anna was concerned, Kristoff could kiss her for eternity and beyond. He was like a drug; she tumbled deeper and deeper into euphoric dizziness with each probe of his tongue, each gentle brush of his hand against her back. His body was sturdy and unyielding, and even as the brutal wind kicked up again, she'd never felt so warm and safe. Something began to stir within her deep down. Something good.

When they broke apart, they both had glossy eyes and pink, swollen lips. Anna absentmindedly sighed with contentment and they both chuckled.

"You… um, you should probably get inside," he commented after a while. The wind was still blowing furiously around them. "It's pretty cold. You don't want to get sick."

"Yeah, I… do you want to come up?" she blurted out. It was out before she could stop herself, and her face turned a fierce shade of crimson. When he raised an eyebrow, she elaborated. "It's just… well, like you said, it's pretty cold."

Kristoff smiled. "It's alright. I'm used to it."

"Yeah, but it's a long walk back to your car. Come upstairs and get warm. I can make some coffee or even some hot chocolate? Or tea. I also have tea. Please? It's the least I can do after everything you've done for me tonight."

She didn't tell him that in truth, she did not want their night to end just yet. She wanted more time, even if it just meant sitting with him and not saying a word.

"Hm. Hot chocolate does sound nice. Thanks."

"Great."

Once in her living room, Anna removed her coat and shoes and slipped them both into her closet. She spun on her heel to look at Kristoff, almost chuckling when she saw him. He was standing just inside her front door with his hands in his coat pockets and politely awaiting instructions. She studied his face for a brief moment and deduced that he was unsure of what to do with himself. It made sense; after all, the last time he was in her apartment so late, she was out-of-her-mind drunk and puking all over her bathroom. Not to mention, they hadn't shared a searing kiss on the stoop that night, either.

"Um… I'll take your coat, if you want?" she timidly asked.

"Oh! Yeah, sure," he said, hastily tugging the wool jacket from his body and handing it to her. "Thank you."

"Sure," she said, hanging it on the handle of her closet. "So… um… I'll go ahead and start on the hot chocolate?"

Kristoff nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, that sounds really good."

"Cool. If you want, have a seat. I'll be back in a few minutes. Feel free to put the TV on."

Anna scurried into the kitchen. As she filled a saucepan with milk, her mind began to drift, and was suddenly stuck with the realization that she may have just led herself into a trap. She'd just gotten home after a first date, and she'd invited the man upstairs for a hot beverage. She'd read books and she'd seen movies, and coffee (or, in this case, hot chocolate) was almost always code for sex. Is that what Kristoff was now expecting?

No, no, stop, Anna thought, shaking her head and turning the heat on to warm the milk. He's not like that. But what if…? Just say he is. Say you go back in there and he wants you. You would have to go through with it now, wouldn't you? You'll lose him otherwise, and he's too good to lose, Anna. And… wait, what? No! What are you thinking?! Don't you dare do something like that, you fool! You're not ready for that! Besides, Kristoff isn't like that and you know it. He doesn't think you "owe him" for dinner or anything of the sort. And even if he does – which he doesn't! - then he isn't that sweet after all, is he? You don't need that kind of manipulation in your life again. No more Hanses, okay? Don't do anything stupid tonight, Anna. Don't fuck this up.

After mixing the cocoa and sugar into the warm milk, Anna turned off the range and went to her cupboard to fetch two mugs. As she did so, she caught sight of her bracelet, instantly reminding her of something Elsa had said to her the time they'd discussed Kristoff: Just take things slow, remember?

And I will, Anna thought to herself with a smile. She would take things slow with Kristoff, because he was worth that. He was worth the time and patience. Hans had, obviously, been a huge problem, but Anna herself had not helped matters, as her naïve willingness to rush headfirst into a serious relationship and say yes to everything to keep her boyfriend happy had been faults of her own. But she knew that now, and she wouldn't make the same mistakes twice. Luckily for her, she wouldn't have to worry about such opportunities arising, because her gut was correct: Kristoff was not that guy.

She gingerly carried the two mugs of hot chocolate into the living room. Kristoff was waiting for her on the couch, though he never turned the TV on. He smiled when he saw her, and Anna felt her knees grow weak. It was things like that which made her want to chuck time and patience straight into the nearest dumpster, and she even caught herself taking an absentminded glance toward the hall leading to her bedroom, but she pushed the thoughts away.

"Hi," she hummed, sitting beside him and handing him a mug. "I hope it's okay."

"Thank you," Kristoff said. He took a slow sip and smiled. "Wow, this is delicious."

"Thanks. I mean, I'm glad you like it."

"I really do."

"Did you… um, did you want to watch something?"

"Sure. What did you have in mind?"

Anna shrugged. "Well," she began, glancing at the digital clock on the cable box, "most of tonight's games should be over. We could check the scores?"

Kristoff grinned. "You're my kind of girl."

Anna laughed and grabbed the remote from her coffee table. She settled back against the cushions as she flipped to ESPN.

"Anna?" Kristoff said.

"Yeah?"

"Would you mind if I put my arm around you?"

She glanced at him and smiled. He was so respectful that it almost brought tears to her eyes. She thought of the flowers in the kitchen, the way he'd held any and all doors for her, how he'd asked for her permission before kissing her. For the loner and grump that he was, Kristoff Bjorgman knew a thing or two about chivalry.

"Of course," she whispered. "Kristoff, you don't ever have to ask."

He grinned and slipped his arm around her shoulders, and she snuggled right in to the side of his body and rested her head in the crook of his neck. Save for the groan Anna made when it was revealed The Rangers had won their game, they were silent as they watch the night's hockey highlights. It was, however, a comfortable silence. If Anna had not known better, she would have figured she and Kristoff had done this thousands of times before. It felt natural to be curled up against him on a Tuesday night with her feet up and feeling herself grow tired, like she could fall asleep right then and there and be perfectly safe.

Anna did not know it yet, but that was exactly what she would do that night. She would fall asleep in her date clothes and nestled against Kristoff, and she would wake to find her head against a pillow and her body covered in her favorite throw blanket. She would find a short, simple note on her coffee table, and she would smile as she read it over and over again:

Anna,

I had to get home to Sven, but I didn't want to wake you. Sorry – I hope you aren't upset. I had a magnificent time with you, and I truly can't wait to see you again. Thank you so much for sharing your evening with me. I'll call you soon.

Kristoff

Author's Note: This... really did not come out as intended. There was supposed to be more of their dinner conversation but it was so bland and repetitive that I scrapped the whole bit and had him come upstairs with her instead. I think I like it better. I think. Still not quite sure yet. Anyway, Kristoff is next, and then we'll possibly be hearing from Elsa again for a bit of Christmas chaos.

To everyone who's been patient while waiting for this chapter to come out, thank you so much for your support, and I appreciate your kindness, respect, and encouragement. You're the reason I keep coming back to this story even though I've gotten so frustrated with it and wanted to give up several times. To those who've felt the need to send me nasty, condescending comments either here or on Tumblr, however, please remember than fan fiction writers have lives of their own. As much as we would like to update every week, it's often not possible when we have jobs, families, classes, and many other real-life things that take precedence over fan fiction. We do what we can, but at the end of the day, this is merely a hobby. Please keep that in mind the next time you want to anonymously lash out at a fan fiction writer for "not giving you" a new chapter quick enough.

Thanks for reading, and I hope to see you all sooner rather than later. :)