Kristoff had started a quick fire, leaving Anna on the couch to tend to it while he started cooking the meal. It wasn't exactly a quick thing… but at the very least he knew he was going to invite her up, so he had seasoned and prepared everything before leaving the little house this morning just in case she had said yes.

Though that had been an awkward conversation.

"Do you always prep enough food for two people?"

"Oh… no… I just… I tend to make food in large batches so I have dinner for a couple nights."

"Seems to me like you're always prepared to invite someone up here."

Kristoff had blushed so brightly that he stopped talking and turned back to the kitchen, effectively ignoring her and the rest of that conversation. He held onto the idea that if Anna had truly thought he was some weird player, that she wouldn't have agreed to come up and eat dinner with him. Right? That made a lot of sense… At least to him.

He felt a hand on his back, snapping him back to reality, before he realized that Anna was standing next to him at the stove. "Hey." He did his best not to blush, but it had gotten very warm in the kitchen, and he was down to just his thin undershirt… and could feel every bit of heat radiating off her palm.

"Hiya." Anna maybe (totally) let her fingers linger for a moment too long, before pressing both of her hands against the ledge of the counter, bouncing up on her toes. "Need any help?"

Glancing down at her, Kristoff felt his breath catch in his throat. He knew he thought she was incredibly pretty - but he quickly realized he hadn't taken too much time to really look at the details of her face. She had long lashes that seemed to flutter with every move of her eyes, a healthy coating of freckles that were particularly abundant on her cheeks and nose, and soft, pink lips. And abnormally bright blue eyes.

Which were looking at him.

"N-no… Almost done!" he laughed, rubbing at the back of his neck. "Just gotta…" Moving the steaks from the pan to a plate, Kristoff shrugged. "Gotta let them rest for a minute as the vegetables finish up in the oven." He watched her nod and moved over towards the fridge. "You want anything to drink? Mostly just have water and beer… And like one bottle of wine I can open if -"

"I'm not twenty-one."

"... Oh." It hit him that he had no idea how old she was. Was she even eighteen? Well… the guy she was engaged to looked to be in his mid twenties so… she had to be at least twenty, right? Kristoff found himself slowly turning to face her. "You're… at least eighteen, right? Because if not, this just took a turn for the illegal."

Anna bit her lip and nodded. "Yeah, I'm at least eighteen."

"... Are you exactly eighteen."

"... I'm a little older than eighteen."

"By a little older, do you mean less than a year?"

"... Five months."

"... Oh."

"Yeah…" Anna twisted her fingers together in front of her chest. "… At least eighteen."

Kristoff sighed with relief. He was twenty-two, and would have honestly preferred her being just a little closer… but… eighteen. At least she was eighteen. "Okay. That's great."

Wanting to break the tension, Anna moved towards the table to grab the plates while Kristoff removed the pan of vegetables from the oven. "Can I plate it?" She may have been a terrible cook, but she absolutely loved the artistic nature of deciding how to place food to make it look the most appealing.

"I mean… I was just going to throw it on the plate… but…" Vaguely gesturing with his hands, Kristoff gave her a smile. "Go for it."

Placing her hands on his shoulders and shoving him to the table, Anna smiled. "Sit! I'll bring it over. Team effort! It's not like this is a date or anything, right?"

"Of course not." He had to fight to hide his disappointment.

So did she.