Kristoff looked down at the small cloth, the tangled embroidery almost mocking him. He had made it for his proposal to Samantha, hoped to use it to hold the ring, but she had found it ahead of time and told him that he should give up on needlecraft - she thought he wasn't patient enough for it. Painting was bigger, could be done quickly, could be done with emotion. But needlecraft was time consuming and meticulous. Frustrating if you weren't passionate about it.
He had given up on it then, and wasn't quite sure why he had held onto it. Maybe it was a reminder of who he didn't want to be. He didn't want to give up on anything he cared about anymore. He didn't want to be a quitter.
Anna and Eli had reintroduced him to that side of himself. She had told him she would be patient, and he worked through some of his own blocks. Eli had showed him why he had always wanted to be a father, and Kristoff put forward an effort every single day since to prove to himself he could be. They gave him a reason to keep trying, and he was forever thankful for that.
The more time he spent around them, the harder and deeper he fell. He was absolutely crazy about Anna, and Eli was the best kid he had ever met — and that was comparing him to Kristoff's own siblings.
He loved them both.
And he wanted to give all of himself to them.
For Anna and Eli, he could be patient, and meticulous, and deal with painstakingly boring tasks, if it meant he got them in the end.
With a smile, Kristoff went in search of the small bit of embroidery equipment he had obtained, and set to work. He was going to finish this. He was going to do it for himself.
—-
He spent hours and hours and hours working. His fingers hurt, his wrists hurt, and his eyes hurt, but it was already looking a million times better than when he started. Kristoff couldn't help the wide smile that was spreading over his face as he stared down at it, even if it was still far from finished. He was making progress. Everything was progressing as he hoped it would.
Taking a break, Kristoff looked at his phone with a grimace. He had three missed calls from Anna, and two from his mother. "What the hell…?"
Kristoff tried Anna's phone first, but it got sent straight to voicemail. Panic rising, he tried his mother next. After three rings, he heard background noise.
"Hello, baby?"
"Hey, ma… what's… what's going on?" He did his best to keep calm, but he could feel his fingers digging into the cushion of his armchair.
"It's… nothing bad, Kristoff, I promise. Anna's just…" Bulda paused, and he heard her mumble a soothing hush, a small reassurance. "She's okay, I just think you should come down and bring her home… She's not feelin' well."
"Yeah, yeah," he sighed, relieved that it wasn't serious. "I'll be down in a few."
He got up quickly, running out his door as fast as he possibly could.
—-
She had tried so hard to keep it together. But panic had taken over, and Anna found herself crying harder and harder each time his phone had sent her to voicemail. She didn't want to be mad, but she couldn't help it. She was desperate, and he couldn't even answer her call?
No. No. He was busy. He was just busy. He'd call her back soon. She knew he would.
"Anna? You okay dear?"
When Anna shook her head no, Bulda came to sit beside her, pushing her hair out of her face, holding her close to her chest as she cried. "Shh, shh, it's okay baby. Let's get you home…"