Day Sixty-Four: What Did I Do Last Night?

A/N: I made a Spotify playlist for this fic. It's got songs that remind me of the story, or help put you in the mind of Elsa and Anna, or just stuff I'm listening to while writing this. I'd post the link, but FF doesn't let you do that so...idk I'll post it on AO3 so you can check it out and follow it if you want to. Alright, back to the angst weeeeee...

Uuuuuuugh.

It's the morning, or at least I'm sure it is from the sunlight peeking through my curtains burning my eyes. My entire body aches, my mouth feels like sandpaper, and there's a jackhammer going off in my head.

Hangovers are a bitch.

I told myself that I'd never get blackout drunk again, and guess what I did last night? No seriously try and guess, because I barely remember.

All I do remember is trying to push down the guilt of ditching Elsa, and then getting on the back of Aurora's motorcycle, and then going back to the mansion to break some more shit, and then we went to a bar...and then somewhere between the sixth or seventh shot is where there's a huge lapse in my memory.

I gingerly turn over as an unladylike grunt escapes my lips, and do some inventory. I have pants on, which is a good start, but I'm still wearing the shirt I wore yesterday- it smells like stale beer and shame. My phone is on the nightstand charging, I unplug it and check to see if there are any notifications. Nothing, which means I didn't send anybody weird shit last night.

I put it back on the nightstand and- holy shit, my hair smells awful!

There's more of that stale beer stench mixed with dried vomit that jumpstarts my stomach. I should take my time trying to get up to avoid getting too nauseous, but I'm already about to throw up so there's no reason to be careful.

I race to the bathroom and...yeah. After that, I take an ice-cold shower, brush my teeth, and do my post-hangover mulling over my life choices. It all makes me feel a tiny bit better, but it's a start. The headache is gonna stick with me for the rest of the day, though, which is a fair enough punishment.

What time is it? I'm straining to remember the number I saw on my phone, I think it's around 7:30ish. Elsa's probably awake then, which gives me another thing to worry about.

I'm hoping that I got back while she was asleep so she doesn't know I ditched her to go get blackout drunk. But judging by the different pants I was wearing in bed, I don't think so. Wait, that means she changed me, which means she saw me half-naked again. Great.

I slip into the baggiest sweatpants and hoodie that I own, resigning myself to a day of hangover recovery. Speaking of which, coffee sounds good right about now. I head to the kitchen to make some-

Ah fuck, Elsa's in the kitchen.

"Oh, hey there," I say with a still raspy voice.

"Hey," she says back, "I was already out here while you were in the shower."

"Oh, um okay that's cool. That's great." It is?

Elsa raises an eyebrow, "It is?"

I shake my head, "Is there any coffee?"

She nods. "I can't drink it anymore because of my anxiety medication, so it's been a while since I've made any. I hope it's good enough."

"I'm sure it's just fine, Elsa," I smile at her and grab a mug from the cupboard. True to her word, the coffee looks freshly brewed. Something doesn't add up though, "Wait, if you can't drink it, then why did you make it?"

"I figured you might need some." The way she says this tells me what I was afraid of, she had to take care of blackout drunk me. Damn it, it's good coffee too.

I don't know how I should look when I turn around and meet her gaze, so I go with a guilty-looking lip bite. She always went easier on me when I did the lip bite. "I'm...sorry you had to see that. I must have looked like such a jackass."

She doesn't say anything, she isn't even looking at me. All she does is stare straight-faced at whatever she's holding in her hands. I resist the urge to retreat back into my room, and instead I sit at the dining table with her.

When I do, she places what was in her hands in front of me: a small bottle of aspirin. "I figured you might need this too," she says.

I pick up a hint of nervousness in her voice, like she wants to confront me about yesterday, but doesn't know how to approach it. I could start the conversation for the both of us, but my head is still killing me. And I'm not sure what I can say to make things better. I say a quick thanks before opening the bottle and downing four of the little pills in one gulp.

For a minute, the only sounds between us are coming from the ceiling fan and me sipping my coffee. When we catch each other's gaze, we immediately look the other way hoping that the other didn't notice. It catches me off guard when Elsa finally breaks the silence.

"Where were you last night?" she asks in a way that tells me she already knows.

"I was...my friend needed me," I say in some horrible attempt to save face.

"A friend? Which one?"

"Uh, you haven't met her. Or- I mean, I've never mentioned her." She's silent, I can tell that I'm not convincing her of anything. I'm not easing any of her worries. I'm not catching her off guard.

My suspicions are confirmed when she finally locks eyes with me and says, "You don't have to lie to me, Anna." Her tone is cold, unnerving, but there's also a sense of betrayal when she says that. Like after everything we've been through, I'm still keeping secrets from her. "If you're dating somebody then it's okay-", there's a slight hesitation before she says that last word, "- it's not against the rules. We're not gonna lose the money if you do."

"I'm not…", I run my hand through my hair, resting my elbow on the table. This is pathetic, I can't even look at her. "We're just friends."

"So you do want to date somebody then? Someone specific?"

I sigh and close my eyes, both from my splitting headache and the horrible turn this morning's already taken. I'm not up for this right now, and I tell Elsa that.

"Anna, I just want to know what you've been up to," she says sadly. "We've gone back to not talking as much, and I know a lot of that's on me, but I'm trying to make up for that now. It's almost like we're strangers again, is that what you want?"

Ugh, labels.

Again.

Always with the fucking labels. "Elsa, I can't answer that question."

"Still?"

I rub my temples, "The fuck do you mean 'still'?" I'm trying to sound hostile, and yet I can't look her in the eye, which severely impacts my intimidation factor. Not that I'm trying to intimidate Elsa into dropping this conversation, it's just that I'm not in the mood for this. I just want to go back to my bed with my coffee and aspirin breakfast.

But Elsa doesn't budge, she's assertive but not raising her voice. "Anna, I asked you on your birthday what I am to you. I gave you your space to think about it, and I even said we could drop it but...I guess I really do want to know. It's been over a week now, and I...you have to have something."

"Do you?" I retort, "I asked you the same thing, remember?" And I thought she let me off the hook about this. So why bring it up?

"I know, and I do. At least I think I do. I'll tell you what I think- I'll tell you what you are to me- but I have to know that you have an answer too. Just so we're on the same page." If not for the slight hesitations, I would almost think Elsa came into this conversation confident and prepared. Maybe she's just prepared, which is more than I can say for myself.

The headache, only slightly subdued by the aspirin, fucks with my concentration. "I can't talk about this right now," I say as I pocket the bottle of pills, wondering if I should take some more, and grab my coffee. When I get up to leave, I add an, "Or ever…"

"Ever?"

Fuck my life. Just...come on, your hand's on the doorknob, Anna. All you gotta do is turn it, you don't have to keep talking about this. You already said you didn't want to, just turn the knob. Just turn it.

"Anna, please turn around. I just want to talk to you."

Just turn it. Don't engage. Don't say anything stupid. There's nothing you can say right now that you can't explain away with the hangover. So don't say anything. Just go into your room. Don't. Say. Anything.

"Why won't you talk to me, Anna?"

Damn it.

I turn around so fast that it's like my brain rattles and ricochets in my head. The pain was so intense, I have to dig my free hand into my hair and groan. Which causes half my coffee to spill on the goddamn floor, setting the scene for my horrible, regretful, untimely, uncalled for rant.

"Because I don't fucking know how to talk to you anymore, okay?! It's like one minute we're doing just fine, and then I say something stupid that sets you off, and then you don't talk to me until you fucking want to. Do you know how exhausting that is?! To not know what to fucking say to someone because you're afraid of hurting them again?"

"And you wanna know why I can't give you an answer? It's because- surprise- I don't fucking know what we are. Sometimes we're just strangers, sometimes we're just roommates who only talk to each other like once, sometimes we're...I don't even know how to describe it. But I can't just be roommates with you because there's too much history between us, and I can't be friends with my ex-girlfriend. I just fucking can't. So I don't know where that leaves us, and the only thing I know that I want from you is...is to please g-get off my ass about this!"

No, damn it. My voice is shaking, my throat is getting sore, but not from the yelling. I...I think I'm gonna cry, and I'm not sure why. I drown it out, my voice and my thoughts and my words are all that I'm choosing to hear right now.

"Gah, you're so fucking frustrating sometimes. I-I get it, okay? I said some dumb shit and I...I hurt you really bad, and you said some dumb shit too. So why can't we get it- over it already? Why is it always like this between us, now?! Why do we have to keep having these awkward, serious conversations? We were supposed to find a way to coexist, but instead we just tolerate each other until I do something fucked up and you don't leave your room or talk to me for days! And it's my fault that we're not talking anymore?"

"Don't you think I've wanted to talk to you? Don't you think I've wanted to try and spend some goddamn time with you without things going to shit?! Don't you think that it hurts me too that we're like this, now? I want things to be okay between us, Elsa, but this bullshit keeps happening and I'm sick of it! I'm sick of always walking on eggshells when it comes to you, I'm sick of having someone around who doesn't even want to talk to me half the time, I'm sick of not even getting to enjoy having you in my life again! I'm sick of this-"

A hiccup, a momentary loss of breath. That's what finally breaks me. That's what gets the tears going. With the splitting headache, rising nausea in my stomach, and now this? I can't keep going on, because if I do…

And Elsa. She's looking down at the ground about to cry too, and damn it I feel guilty again. I…

"Fuck this," I say breathlessly.

I finally open my door and slam it shut, but not before hearing Elsa sniffle and say "Anna, wait…"

I've said too much today, done too much. There's no reason for me to leave my room for the rest of the day even if I wanted to, and I don't.

I really fucking don't.

Not for anything or anyone. My head's still killing me, my stomach's tying itself into a hundred knots, and my damn eyes won't stop crying. I crumple into bed and pull my blanket over my head, shutting the rest of the world out.