"You. Bali. In three days," Anna repeated, dumbfounded. There was noise now, noise between her ears and her heart, noise from the crackling fire, noise from the collapse of the perfect future she had already begun to construct between the two of them. She took Elsa's hand again to hold as she asked, "For how long?"
"Five months. Maybe six." Elsa released Anna's hand so she could rise and stoke the fire, adding a few more pieces of wood. It felt like a little rejection to Anna's saddened heart. She glanced back at Anna as she worked. "That's why I asked, Anna. That's why I… hoped… we could have some time together tonight."
Five. Maybe six. That's half a fucking year!
"I appreciate you telling me," Anna said, still feeling nebulous and, to be honest, hurt. "Can I ask what you are doing in Bali?" Anna made the question as innocuous as possible as she took another sip of wine and then held the blanket open for Elsa to sit down again.
Elsa seemed to appreciate this show of peace, so she sat down and then shuffled close to Anna again on the couch. Anna left her hand there, on the blanket, hoping Elsa would take it.
Elsa did. She also brought the glass of wine to her lips and sipped before saying, "My dad and his business partners like to find promising small agencies around the world. They buy them, add them to our already massive portfolio, and start working with the local people to streamline them with our company values and mission. Dad's been in Bali for the last four months. He's getting ready to leave. And that's when I take over. He likes the way I work with people, to finish the process of integration into our company. We'll spend about the first month in Bali together before he goes to his next acquisition."
"Is this what you like doing?" Anna asked. "This is why you are gone from Prague for months at a time, like you mentioned earlier."
"I wouldn't say I like it, but I do it," Elsa replied, a little bit of iron to her voice and the faintest hint of that anger furrow to her brow. Anna recognised that this was a sore point within her heart and soul. "I work for my dad. And this is what I do."
Anna tried to defuse the situation by smiling at Elsa and squeezing her hand. "Have you been to Bali before, Elsa?"
"Yes, maybe three times. It's beautiful, Anna. I think you'd love it."
"Well, this is one way you can escape the district lockdown," Anna mused, cringing inside to think of being stuck in the city of Prague with no chance of going on trips to other forests or districts for three weeks (or three months, who the hell knew?). The soft butterfly-wing daydreams she had already been creating between her and Elsa were singed now, and inglorious. No wonder Kristoff had often told her she fell too hard, too fast, for too many girls.
Though this emotion had yet another flavour, one that Anna wasn't as familiar with. To tell the truth, she was suddenly jealous of Elsa and her opportunities. Beautiful Bali. And pathetic Prague, shivering in the last throes of a long COVID winter.
Anna caught this unpleasant emotion and tried to smile at it, giving it some space inside her without allowing it to take over. "Okay, so here's my next question. If you weren't leaving for Bali in three days, would you consider dating me? Seeing what might happen between us?"
"Probably," Elsa mused, stroking Anna's hand with her thumb. "No one has made me laugh the way you did, not for a very long time. You're very easy to be with, Anna. And, very easy on the eyes as well," Elsa said, smiling a perfectly coy little smile that revealed her dimples. Anna's heart swooped.
"I'll take that as a compliment."
"You should. It was certainly intended as one." Elsa looked searchingly at Anna for a few moments longer before turning to take another swallow of wine. "So, Anna. You already know about my hobby, and I'll show you my work in a little while. Tell me, what do you like to do for fun?"
"I'm pretty active," Anna admitted. "Which means that lockdown has been difficult at times. I like skiing, now that I've learned how to do it. I enjoy rollerblading in the summer, and cycling. Hiking, of course, year round, though apparently I'm rather clumsy on ice and snow…"
"Are you sure you didn't orchestrate that little fall of yours in order to… you know…?" Elsa chuckled, waving at her breasts.
"Believe me, if I had tried to orchestrate it, it would never have turned out the way it did." They chatted a while longer, the spectre of Bali now a softened shadow monster between them, nibbling on Anna's soft frail hopes.
Yet, as the minutes passed and the conversation continued, Anna's hopes began to evade that Bali-monster, finding safe places to hide and flourish as she now considered other possibilities… such as Elsa coming back from Bali for a week or two just to spend time with her… Anna imagined waiting at International arrivals for Elsa to come through the sliding doors and into Anna's arms…then, back here at the villa, they would...
"What are you thinking about when you go quiet like that?" Elsa asked a few moments later. "You're a bit like… Walter Mitty."
Anna blushed. "Yeah, that movie was a little uncomfortable for me to watch at times," she admitted. "I do have a rather active imagination, not quite as bad as his, thankfully. I was… uh… thinking about seeing you off at the airport when you go to Bali." It wasn't exactly true, but it was close enough. No need to admit to her flights of fancy.
Elsa blinked. Her eyes really were remarkable, and she had done her makeup in such a soft, understated way, really bringing out the paleness of her face and the striking blue of her eyes.
"Though I'm sure you have other friends who would see you off," Anna stammered as Elsa continued to look at her in that pointed way.
"You would consider seeing me off at the airport?" Elsa repeated.
"Yes."
"My flight is in the afternoon on Tuesday. What about teaching?"
"Teaching shmeaching. I make my own schedule."
Elsa laughed and then pulled at Anna's hand. Anna willingly went soft, pliable as putty and clay in Elsa's talented hands as they kissed once again, this time with a mess of Bali and Anna's hopes between them. As they kissed, Elsa's hands stroking Anna's neck, her mouth tilting and opening Anna's so she could touch Anna's tongue, Anna felt her heart and lungs squeezing and contracting in hunger that no amount of pizza or wine could satisfy. She lost herself in these kisses, these hot and sweet kisses that she never expected to experience this morning as she nearly skidded on the ice and snow as she hurried to catch her tram.
Oh, God, what if she had missed her tram today?
Some time later, both women breathless and aching, they parted to look at each other in the ruddy firelight. Elsa's hair was mussed now, and she looked absolutely gorgeous. Another bolt of desire passed through Anna as she imagined what that hair would look like strewn upon a pillow with spilt moonlight illuminating it with a ghostly glow.
Not having a one-night stand was a personal rule. Weren't rules made to be broken? The English language itself would say yes…
It wouldn't technically be a one-night stand, either, if she and Elsa were going to be in a relationship together...
"Would you like to see my art?" Elsa shyly asked.
"Yes, please."
"Then I'd like to show it to you." She sighed, a soft exhalation. "I sometimes wish I could just be an artist, Anna. Have a little cottage by a river, or by the sea. I make a very good income with my dad's company, and I put a lot into savings, but I'm not quite ready to stop working yet."
"Well, thirty something is a bit early for retirement," Anna teased. "Wait. Can I ask how old you are? I mean, I think you're my age. I'm 34, by the way."
"Well, I'm not exactly robbing the cradle, but I'm older than you by five years, Anna. I'm turning 40 this summer."
"No. Freaking. Way. Elsa. You look amazing."
"And you look young for your years, especially with your hair in those braids. I wondered if I dared flirt with you today, just in case you were more than ten years my junior."
"Would that have mattered?"
"A little. But not much, I'll admit. Come on, I'll show you."
They rose from the couch. Hand in hand, Elsa led her to the closed door. When opened, it led up to the sloping attic. There was another door at the apex of the stairs; Elsa hovered here and looked back at Anna. "You crazy girl, you have no idea how rarely I do this. For all you know, I bring everyone to my studio."
"Just tell me. I'll believe you."
"Okay. My art is my blood, Anna, my heart and my life. And I sometimes struggle with distancing myself from my art when it's completed. Rejection or criticism is still painful. So my art is mine, and, while I do show it to some people, I don't show it often. You… again, you are a special case." She paused, and then blurted out, "God, does everyone trust you like this?"
Anna smiled, thinking of the bonds she had been able to form, so quickly and so deeply, with her students and her new friends. "Yes," she replied simply. "And I feel honoured to be shown something which is such an integral part of you, Elsa. Thank you for trusting me."
Elsa squeezed her hand, took a deep breath, and then keyed a code into the lock at the top of the stairs. She turned the knob, called for Google to turn on the lights, and invited Anna over the threshold.
The studio was situated beneath heavy dark wooden beams, though the walls themselves had been painted a warm off-white. The roof sloped to each side, so only the middle of the room had a higher clearance over their heads; Elsa's art was displayed along each side. There was a tall screen at the back of the room, creating a small dark niche that Anna couldn't see. "A quick word before you start looking at the finished pieces," Elsa said, her nervousness betrayed by a slight quaver to her voice. "I don't do my sculpting here. It's too much of a hassle to bring materials up and down the stairs. And much too messy. I have my own workshop in a space I rent not far from here. This, I guess you could call this more a gallery than a studio, though I often paint here. The light could be better, but at least I have the skylights."
Anna was being drawn into the space, as magnets are drawn to each other. Of course she was curious about what was behind the screen, but the sculpture ahead of her… she had to see it better; Elsa's voice receded and their hands parted as Anna made a bee-line for the face she saw before her.
It was upon a pedestal, and it was the face of a young woman, yet the features were smooth, polished, eroded even… and half gone. It was made of polished black… something, with a matte finish, but Anna was enraptured by the emptiness she saw within the sculpture even more than what was present. What was not there defined the art more than what was there. Most of a nose, a beautiful jawline and cheek, one eye; yet if Anna looked at it from another angle, the sculpture somehow filled in, becoming whole; an optical illusion which astounded her.
Elsa stood in the corner as Anna remained transfixed; then Anna began to slowly move, looking at the twenty sculptures on display before looking at the paintings. Most of the sculptures were of faces; most sculptures captured some hidden essence, in facial feature or design. Anna enjoyed the paintings as well, but she returned to the sculptures a second time; she then stood a very long time before a rather large sculpture made of bleached driftwood that showed a male elderly face whose eyes were incredibly deep, nose was incredibly long, but mouth was incredibly non-existent. Anna gazed at that blank space below the nose, that invisible mouth, and thought of her grandparents, those who fled the Communist state, and how they must have felt to have their voices silenced.
If a voice was denied expression long enough, did a person forget how to speak? And when words failed, perhaps there were other forms of expression, unless those, too, were denied…
And if all expression is denied long enough, can hope endure?
"What were you thinking about when you made this?" Anna asked. "Elsa, it's…. I don't have words."
Elsa came to her and stood next to her, putting her hand on Anna's waist; Anna leaned into the comforting touch. "It's my grandfather, my mom's dad. I remember visiting him at his winery in Moravia when I was small. He held my little hand on the vines, let me touch them. We traced them, together, the tendrils on the wires and supports. He loved nothing more than being in those sun drenched fields, clipping and tending the vines. He loved his barrels and vats, and I was his little helper, especially in the autum for vinobraní, when we produced burčák as well as wine. Those are my golden days, Anna. I cherish them.
"When I was a teenager, he had a stroke, and half his body was paralysed. He was never able to really speak again after that. I remember his frustration as he tried to get his once-obedient body to move as he wanted, but it never did. His face, half frozen, stole his words. We hired the best caregivers we could find for him, but he was a man of the vineyard, Anna, he wanted the sun and the dirt and the tendrils of his grapes. So he died, maybe two years after his stroke, when it became clear that he would never be the man he was. Maybe he died of grief, Anna. Maybe he was simply tired. I don't know, because he could not say it. I made this to honour him, and my memory of those days."
Her voice shook and trembled. Anna wrapped her arm around Elsa's waist and held her hip. After some time had passed, and Elsa seemed to calm down again, Anna quietly said, "This is a remarkable piece of art, Elsa. Just one look at this sun-bleached wood, the expression of his face… how on earth did you manage to convey his satisfaction with his life while withholding his voice?"
"If you want the technical answer, I made a million sketches first," Elsa replied, turning towards Anna, her face wistful but no longer sorrowful. "Then I rendered it in plaster, until I could mold it the way I wanted to. This little piece of wood represents thousands of hours of work."
"It is no little piece of wood, Elsa. It is…" and then Anna couldn't say anything else. Her throat had closed up, thinking of her grandparents, those wizened, stern foreign people who spoke a strange language and who had died, one after the other, before Anna had reached the age of ten.
Her grandparents had been falcons escaping their keepers; their jesses loosened forever. Had America's skies been clear for them? Anna never knew. And her mother was mightily reticent on the subject. Yet her mother had believed enough in her parents' sacrifice that she refused to take her husband's name when they married. They would be falcons forever, no matter who they married, no matter who they loved.
As Elsa continued to look at her, Anna looked only at the sculpture and murmured, "Forgive me, Elsa. Seeing this sculpture brings my own Czech grandparents to my mind. They had voices, but they spoke a language foreign to me. I never connected to them, not the way you did. Seeing this work of art… I remember them, and the… was it walnuts?" Anna even closed her eyes, recalling their house in Texas which always smelled a little odd; the caraway seeds they added to bread, potatoes, cabbage; her grandmother touching Anna's bright red hair and whispering something so foreign it slipped right through her childish brain…
A memory trickled into her consciousness, unfolding like the petals of a magnolia tree.
Christmas. Or just after. Just before?
Walnuts, as bleached and blonde as Elsa's sculpture. Scooping out the insides, and then putting a candle into the shell, melting it a bit in the microwave until it fit the shape of the shell itself. Then they lit the candles and set them a'sailing on a bowl of water. Anna's babička hummed an old tune as the walnut shell candles floated on the water. "Přání, přání," she had chanted. When she touched Anna, her skin was dry, like paper.
Make a wish, her mother whispered.
What had the child wished for? Anna no longer knew.
Perhaps that child had wished for a future like this one, where she would be standing next to a girl with her heart heaving like a storm-drunk sea; her legs shivering from attraction and worry all the same; hands yearning to touch yet afraid to for touching is an open gate, a portal right inside the four-chambered heart; and some part of Anna always knew, always knew, that love, the truest love, would find her the way a tornado finds Kansas, or vampires find Buffy, or donuts always find Homer.
It was inevitable.
And here.
She didn't have to look for it. Love finds those who hold an open door.
"Anna?" Elsa gently asked. Anna would have worshipped her then and there for not prying, not intruding, not barging into her thoughts. The sound of her own name was like a little hook, bringing her back to the shore, should she choose to bite on it.
"Moment, prosím," Anna whispered, reverting to the Czech she had studied, the Czech she had yearned to know. Please give me a moment.
And Elsa's grandfather's silenced face loomed before her, the grains of the wood telling their own story; how was it possible that Elsa had come upon this stranded and abandoned piece of driftwood, brought it to her studio, and imposed upon it her own story, her own narrative, until the wood and the story had merged into something completely new? They were one now, the driftwood and the sculpture, the narrative and Elsa's grandfather; and Anna looked at this work of art and felt her own life subtly shift and rearrange.
We are far more connected than we profess.
Anna. Elsa. Wood. Sculpture.
An unknown period of time later, Anna swam back to the shore of her reverie, and there she found Elsa waiting for her, this girl she had only met eight or ten hours prior. A girl she had known for a lifetime. For they had been carved together since the birthing of the very sun.
Anna found that she had tears in her eyes.
This chance encounter. This vagary of fate. This seeming conglomeration of happenstance and destiny.
Sýkorky. Pivo. Náhoda.
Nehoda?
Coincidence. Accident.
What did it all mean?
"Elsa?"
"Yes?"
There were tears in Anna's eyes. She turned to Elsa, then lifted her fingers to gently touch Elsa's cheek with her fingertips. She moved those fingertips, oh so slowly, as she traced Elsa's lips; Elsa opened her mouth to breathe, her cheeks flushed now and bewitching. Anna leaned forward and kissed those lips, that beautiful open mouth, hoping that this velvet and sweet kiss would express what words could not. Elsa gratefully accepted the kiss, lifting a hand to hold Anna's cheek, the soft kiss deepening as hearts expanded, as physical attraction deepened between them, following the crevasse that had been made with the sight of Elsa's art.
When Anna pulled away, she still touched Elsa's cheeks with her fingertips, and she whispered, "I had no other words, Elsa, for how your sculpture made me feel. Thank you for sharing it with me."
"You have more than repaid my trust, Anna," Elsa softly replied.
"I don't mean to pry, but do you have any intention of sharing your art with the world?"
"Thank you for being gentle with this question. At this time, no. My art is for me, and those few I choose to show it to. I'm certain that, in time, I will want to share it with the wider world. But that time is not now." That little line appeared again in her forehead as she continued, "And please don't ask me why. I don't ask myself this question, so I don't know the answer."
"It's your art, Elsa. And your decision. Besides, I believe people should trust their intuition in all sorts of things. If the time isn't right, then it isn't right. You'll know it when it is. That's what self-trust is all about."
Elsa once again tilted her head a little as she looked at Anna, Anna the conundrum, Anna the enigma. "I love that you know these things," she said quietly. "So now I'm asking myself if I dare show you what's behind the screen. If my grandfather affected you this deeply, what will you think when you see her?" Her voice smaller, she whispered, "Do I want you to see her?"
"Whatever you choose, I'll support you. Of course I'm curious, but I've learned to rein in my curiosity."
Elsa stayed quiet, her hand again on Anna's hip, as if taking comfort from the simple touch. Her eyes were distant, troubled. A few moments later, she murmured, "I'll show you. I'll show you what I don't show anyone." She sighed, and then asked, "Anna, please close your eyes? Wait until I move the screen and pull the sculpture over to us. It's on a moving pedestal."
Anna immediately closed her eyes. Elsa squeezed her hip and then left her. Anna heard the sounds of the screen being moved aside, then the squeak and roll of the pedestal over the parquet floor. Elsa even moved Anna at one point, saying something about the sculpture needing a certain kind of light, and Anna moved accordingly.
Then all was quiet, and Anna heard the wind sighing against the windowpanes, wanting to come in.
Elsa stood next to her again, but did not touch her. "You can open your eyes," she whispered, an immense ache in her voice, far greater than when she spoke of her grandfather.
Anna opened her eyes.
And saw.
…
The sculpture was easily three feet in height (a metre, in metric terms?), and it was of a woman's face. The outer layer of it was entirely composed of organic matter; mosses, barks, dried grass for the hair… Anna looked at it and thought of the Ents from Lord of the Rings, and their faces of bark.
Once again, the face was hollowed, parts were missing; only half the woman's lips were there, all of her nose, but only one eye. Most interestingly, the sculpture continued beyond the face itself; the pieces of bark trailed down the neck and over a shoulder, disintegrating, fragmenting, larger spaces between each piece of carefully selected bark at the far edges of the sculpture. As if wind and time were eroding her.
Her eye was of polished blue stone. Her eyebrows of trimmed moss, somehow still green. Her half-mouth was caught up in an alluring smile. Whoever she was, she was beautiful.
Anna wanted to touch it, but dared not.
"Who is it, Elsa?" she asked, after long moments of silence.
"Claire," Elsa quietly replied. "We fell in love when we were twenty-five. We were together for eight years. She…" and Elsa's voice thickened, "she was the other half of my heart. Of my life. We…" and then she stopped entirely.
Anna slowly turned around, to look at Elsa in this soft, warm light. Elsa had her arms wrapped around her middle, holding herself tight, and her eyes were gleaming. When she noticed Anna looking at her, she looked away.
"What happened to Claire, Elsa?" Anna asked.
Pause.
"She got breast cancer and died." Elsa closed her eyes, and started to turn away.
Anna's heart shivered before it broke, rending apart in pity and horror. This was the source of Elsa's deep sorrow when they had spoken earlier about previous girlfriends. This was the shadow upon Elsa's heart. This loss carved Elsa, made her into the sculpted woman she was today.
Anna wanted to comfort her, but she didn't know how Elsa preferred to be comforted. Or if she even wanted comfort in this moment. Anna also wanted to imprint this new information upon the sculpture she gazed upon. So she stayed right where she was, and looked again at the sculpture made of organic matter, these barks and mosses and grasses that were doomed to falter, to stumble, to perish, to return back to the loving embrace of Gaia herself.
And she understood, more than ever before, how some art was only for the artist. Because in creating the art, some of the pain could be sublimated in this most ancient of alchemies; sorrow could be fixed into form. Every curve, every nuance, every detail about this piece of art was about loss and heartache and Anna's heart wrenched open even further, as her world reconstructed itself around this small piece of information, this little spoken fact, this girl named Claire and her life; and her life with Elsa, cut untimely short.
When she finally had the courage to look at Elsa again, she could feel those tears in her eyes once more. Elsa's art had completely ravaged her; furrowed her heart with deep gouges, opening the hidden depths to the watery winter sun.
Seeds planted here would flourish.
She felt it, to her bones.
"Elsa?" she asked quietly, taking one step towards the sorrowing girl.
Elsa glanced at her, tears now sliding down her cheeks, untouched, and then she looked away, closing her eyes. Her arms were still crossed over her chest, protecting her fragile heart.
A dozen phrases passed through Anna's head, variations of I'm sorry, my condolences for your loss, in time you will love again...but she said none of them. She only took one step, the last best step, until she was right in front of Elsa, and then she wrapped her arms around Elsa, encompassing her in her vulnerability, in her grief, holding her around her crossed arms and broken heart.
Elsa remained closed against her, even as Anna continued to hold her, oh so gently, oh so tight.
Finally she whispered only this, "Thank you for sharing this with me."
One moment longer, and she would have let go, not wanting to force intimacy on this woman.
But then Elsa melted.
First her arms thawed, and fell away from her sides, until she lifted them, and wrapped them around Anna.
Then her neck thawed, and she bent it, to press it in the crook of Anna's neck and shoulders.
And then her body thawed, all her previous rigidity disappeared, and she clung to Anna as if the lone survivor of a massive wreck who came upon a raft bobbing on the waves. Anna became the island, the shore, the solid ground upon which Elsa might rest.
She began to shake, so softly, like the thrumming of a tree in November.
Anna simply held her, and thought…
Spring is coming. For both of us.
An indeterminate amount of time later, Elsa lifted her head. She used one hand to wipe her cheeks. Her mascara was slightly smudged, her eyes reddened, yet she looked upon Anna with softness, with a measure of peace and acceptance. "How do you know this?" she asked. "How do you know what to say to me? How do you know what not to say?"
"I don't know," Anna replied. "I certainly don't have the same experiences as you, I cannot sympathize. But maybe I can empathize. I told you I have an active imagination, Elsa. I can only imagine how… how devastating losing Claire was for you."
A few seconds passed.
"I locked my heart," Elsa said in a rush.
"Okay," Anna said.
"I don't want to love again. I'm not… I'm not strong enough."
"All right."
"I can't love you. Not the way you deserve to be loved."
"If you say so."
That anger furrow to her brow appeared again, and Elsa released Anna to take a step back. "Why are you agreeing with me?"
"Do you want me to disagree?"
"Yes. No. Maybe."
"I've already denied you enough, Elsa. And I'm glad. If I hadn't refused your advances, we'd be in your room by now, yes? Having sexy playtime?"
"Yes. Most likely."
"Exactly. And I would have missed out on all of this." Anna lifted her hands to hold Elsa by her elbows; she looked Elsa straight in the eye as she said, "Do you realise what a gift it is to turn emotions into art? Elsa, no matter what happens between us in the next five seconds or fifteen years, I will never forget the experience of your art. You have turned sorrow and loss into beauty. If you say you cannot love me, if you say you are not strong enough to love again, I'm not going to argue with you. I'm not going to agree with you, either. How you feel about me right now just is, Elsa, just like your art.
"Let it be what it is. Nothing less. Nothing more."
Elsa looked at her a while longer, her eyes smoky and tortured. "Thank you, Anna," she whispered. Blinking her eyes, she smiled again. "Can I take you back downstairs and make out with you on the couch?" she asked.
"Yes," Anna replied.
…
Anna enjoyed sex, but she loved making out. And making out with Elsa was divine, especially as their caresses began to be a bit more daring; Elsa finally cupped and held Anna's breast while kissing her, making Anna seriously think about reconsidering the whole no sex thing yet again.
They were kissing again when the clock struck nine.
"Elsa," Anna tried to say.
"Mmm," Elsa replied, her lips on Anna's neck.
"It's past curfew."
"Only just."
"I need to get going. I don't want to be stopped by the police."
Elsa lifted her head, looked Anna right in the eyes and said, "Do you want to go home?"
"Not really."
"Then stay the night." Correctly interpreting Anna's next look, she added, "In the guest room, Anna."
"You're not tired of my company?"
"Does it look like I'm tired?" Elsa swooped in and kissed Anna near savagely on the lips.
…
Making out gently transformed into talking, then back into making out; when it was nearly midnight, and Anna was so tired and horny and confused she knew she just had to go to bed, she asked Elsa to lend her a t-shirt to sleep in. Blessing the foresight that led her to pack her phone charger earlier that day, she sent a quick text to Duke, saying that she was staying overnight with Kristoff (thank God she had done that a time or two in the past and wouldn't be questioned about it).
Elsa gave her the shirt and then stood by the door to the guest room a moment longer. "I like to sleep in on weekends," Elsa softly said. "But if you wake up early and want company, please just come in and wake me." She tilted her head and then continued, "I'll keep my door open, Anna. If you want to come in for any reason, at any time, please do. Don't hesitate. I promise I won't mind. There's a place in my bed for you, if you want it."
"I appreciate hearing that, Elsa. Please believe me, you're gorgeous and amazing and I can't wait to make love with you. We have two full days ahead of us before you go." Anna kissed Elsa again, and then continued, "And maybe I want to be sure you won't fall for some beautiful Bali girl the day after you arrive."
"Then we have the same worries, Anna, for I don't want you to take a winter walk and slip into the arms of anyone else." She cupped Anna's cheek and said, "We're obviously very attracted to each other, Anna. And for the first time in a long time, I want more than a quick tumble in the sheets. Of course I would make love to you in a heartbeat, but… what about learning how you like to take your coffee, or what kind of movies you can watch again and again, or what music always gets you to dance?" She blushed, and then blurted out, "I… I can't believe I'm telling you all this. What if I scare you away?"
"Long distance is never easy," Anna mused, her heart still engaging in all manner of acrobatics. "Let's not make promises that we'll just bend or break. Can't we just see what happens? Remember, I haven't had a girlfriend for over a year and a half, and Prague itself is about to lock down for the next foreseeable future and I won't be seeing anyone or doing anything. Chances are very high that I'll be waiting for you at the Prague airport every single time you decide to come home for a visit." Anna's throat was a little thick as she continued, "And I want to see you without your makeup, and visit your workshop, and hear more about your relationship with Claire. We have time, Elsa."
Elsa looked at Anna, her expression now serious and despairing. "That's what Claire thought." She kissed Anna one last time, and then whispered, "Good night, sweet girl."
"Sladký spánek," Anna ventured, feeling tortured and stupid.
"Tobě taky."
…
It took a very long time for Anna to fall asleep. Despite her exhaustion, she was keyed up, nervous, aroused… she settled between clean-scented sheets of a foreign bed, listening to strange sounds of wind and snow against the windowpane, thinking endlessly of Elsa's last words.
That's what Claire thought.
She shifted, punched the pillow, and replayed every one of the day's precious moments, starting with Elsa taking her arm for the first time as they looked at the ruined building together.
Slowly, with an excess of thoughts and wracked with doubt, Anna finally fell asleep.
She woke in the gauzy grey of an early morning, hearing the chirping of far too enthusiastic birds outside the window. It was early March and freezing, what did they have to be happy about? Anna shivered as she slipped from her bed into the chilly hallway to use the toilet. As she washed her hands, she saw that Elsa's bedroom door was cracked open, just as she had promised.
Anna slipped back into her own room and between the sheets. She was a bit chilled now. Elsa would help warm you up, she told herself. She stubbornly stayed in bed, her mind racing, her heart yearning; she felt fastened upon a divide that would forever separate past from future.
We regret things we don't do. Chances we don't take.
Has a year of lockdown taught you nothing, Anna? Time and life are precious. And so are opportunities.
Not everyone gets a second chance. Think of Claire.
Think of Elsa, who has lost her partner, yet who has offered you love and sex, and you refused it.
Stop listening to your silly head and just follow your heart!
Her heart moved quickly once unleashed, taking her body up and out of the bed. Padding across the hall in just this borrowed t-shirt and undies, she opened Elsa's bedroom door and peeked in. Elsa's room was quite dark, so a few moments passed before Anna could see the girl asleep on the far side of the bed. Anna mostly closed the door behind her. Heart pumping in worry and anticipation, she tiptoed to the bed, pulled aside the covers and began to climb in.
Elsa's eyes fluttered open. "Thank god," she whispered as she opened her arms in welcome.
Anna slid into the bed, into those arms that wrapped gratefully around her body. Elsa was already falling asleep again, this time with Anna tucked next to her. Spooned together, Anna savoured the feeling of Elsa's warm curvy body against hers. Her eyelids grew heavy, so she adjusted the pillow and then fell asleep in Elsa's arms.
When she next drifted towards wakefulness, it was to feel Elsa's hand on her hip. She opened her eyes and saw stray glimmers of light in the room, all veiled with Prague's perpetual grey. She yawned and started to stretch, wondering if Elsa was awake.
Those fingers on her hip tightened as Anna's feet touched Elsa's feet. Anna turned her head and saw Elsa's eyes half-open, her face soft and shadowed, her lips curling in a beautiful smile. Anna smiled in return and then looked away, softly grinding her hips back into Elsa's. They began a slow, steady rocking back and forth; Anna put her hand behind her to find and hold Elsa's hip, providing even more pressure.
She heard Elsa open her mouth to breathe and she made a sound of languourous pleasure. Elsa's hand left Anna's hip to travel lower; she found the hem of Anna's shirt and put her hand on the firm skin of Anna's stomach. Anna made a noise of acceptance as she continued to rock into Elsa's front. Fingers continued to explore underneath the shirt; Anna shivered as Elsa's warm hand found her breast with its triumphant little nub. Elsa gently squeezed that nub between her thumb and forefinger; arousal spiked through Anna's body, igniting her core. "Yes," Anna whispered. "Oh, yes."
"Mmm," Elsa purred as she continued to stroke and fondle Anna's breast, soon switching to the other. Elsa leaned forward and began to kiss Anna's neck; Anna enjoyed that for a while before craning her head back and capturing her lips in a kiss. Elsa's mouth was so warm and soft, and they kissed again and again as Elsa's hand began to trail back down, down her stomach, down under the waistband of her panties.
Anna kept her lips latched onto Elsa as she shifted her position, sliding until she was on her back; she put one leg over Elsa's leg, opening herself to Elsa's exploration. She had a passing wish that she had kept herself trimmed down there, but there had been no need. Elsa didn't seem to mind; her fingers slid lower, finding the slickness of Anna's core. "Ooh," Elsa murmured. "Anna…" She cupped Anna's mound and kissed her harder.
"Elsa," Anna muttered between kisses.
"Yes?"
"Can we take our clothes off? Please, I want to see all of you…"
Elsa smiled into the kiss. She urged Anna to sit up and began to tug on the hem of the borrowed shirt. Anna lifted her arms and let Elsa pull the shirt up and over her head. In turn, Anna reached for Elsa's shirt and it was soon tossed aside on the floor. Knowing that panties could be awkward unless done oneself, Anna quickly took them off, sliding them off her legs and dropping them beyond the edge of the bed. Elsa did likewise.
The duvet was pooled at their waists; Anna looked at the perfection that were Elsa's pale breasts with their coral nubs. They sagged slightly with age yet were still the epitome of womanly flawlessness; Anna was most definitely a breast woman and these looked incredibly enticing; Anna bore Elsa down to the bed and latched on to the nearest one with her mouth. Elsa hummed her pleasure as Anna suckled and teased her breasts, moving slowly from one to the other. Elsa's hands were on Anna's head, stroking her scalp, holding her in place.
With her mouth on Elsa's breast, Anna slid her hand down the slimness of Elsa's stomach, feeling Elsa part her legs to give her better access. "Ooh," Elsa moaned as Anna's fingers found Elsa's trimmed mound and slid into the slickness that was pooled there. Anna took her time, teasing and stroking her centre as she continued to nibble and suck on Elsa's breasts.
Elsa's fingers tightened on Anna's head when Anna gently slid one finger, and then two, into Elsa's core. "Oh," she gasped, her breath short. Anna couldn't believe how beautiful it felt to be inside Elsa, to feel Elsa's body quivering and thrumming under her, to feel Elsa's heart beating in tandem with Anna's own. She enjoyed the tightness of Elsa's core against her fingers, how Elsa's body writhed next to hers. She continued to fondle and caress Elsa's centre, becoming familiar with it, dipping inside again and again. Elsa's body moved with hers in this most ancient act of rhythm and motion and love.
"Anna?"
"Mmm?"
"I want to kiss you. Please…" Anna lifted her head and Elsa seized her lips in a fierce kiss. Anna kissed her back, their mouths parting, tongues dancing together; Anna thrust her tongue deeper into Elsa's mouth as her fingers plunged deeper into Elsa's core. She soon found what she was looking for inside this amazing woman, that little rough patch that was her g-spot; Anna curled her fingers slightly as she began to pump deeper and slightly faster inside her.
After some time she felt the fluttering of Elsa's muscles, the little ripples that presaged orgasm. Elsa was starting to go rigid underneath her, to bear down on her fingers; she ripped her mouth away from Anna so she could lift her neck to the room and breathe. She pulled Anna down on her, their bodies melding together as Anna instinctively slowed down, drawing out every last bit of arousal and pleasure for her lover.
"Ooo," Anna murmured as she felt Elsa's body start to tremble and thrash; Elsa's fingers gripped Anna's body, likely leaving bruises, as her legs jerked; she opened her legs wider, wordlessly inviting Anna to go even deeper even further and even harder; Anna responded with all the ferocious love in her heart, all the hope and dream and desire that flashed through her like quicksilver in her veins. Just before orgasm, Anna stilled her thrusting fingers and pressed her slick thumb against Elsa's engorged pearl, swirling and then holding her there.
Elsa rocked back and forth, contracting over her belly as her first orgasm hit her, pressing herself harder into Anna's fingers before her neck snapped back and a keening love cry ripped from her mouth. Trusting her intuition, Anna kept thrusting and pumping her fingers in Elsa's core, entranced by the light on Elsa's body, how the blonde moved so freely, not holding anything back; Anna whispered, "Come on, baby, you've got one more, come for me, Elsa…"
Elsa opened her eyes, nodding her head. A few moments later her entire body rippled and shook, and Anna watched in delight as Elsa experienced this pleasure, this connection, this beautiful act that connected bodies, hearts, and souls.
Finally it was over, and Elsa went limp. Elsa put her hand on Anna's down there, silently urging her to stop. Her breath tumbled and heaved; she was a work of art, and beautiful to behold. Anna wanted nothing more than to be the artist of Elsa's pleasure for the rest of their natural lives.
Anna kissed Elsa's nearest breast and then cuddled close to Elsa, delighted to feel Elsa's arms wrapping around her once again. Only then did Anna remove her hand from the slick tightness of her core, to hold Elsa's hip.
"My god, Anna," Elsa breathed a few moments later. "Maybe I shouldn't go to Bali after all."
Anna lifted her head and the two women looked at each other. "I would be more than happy if you could stay. But Elsa, I'll wait for you." Even as she said the words, Anna knew she meant them, with all her heart. "Five months. Six. I don't mind. Just, come home once in a while in the meantime, okay? Make my lockdown life more bearable."
"You mean that, don't you?" Elsa whispered, tracing Anna's cheek with her fingers. "You really would wait for me."
"Yes."
"And if I'm too damaged?" Elsa continued, her voice small. "Too broken to give you what you deserve?"
"Have you ever heard of the Japanese art of repairing pottery with gold?" Anna said, this image coming quickly to her mind. "Embracing the flaws, the imperfections, the brokenness? In order to create something even more astonishing and beautiful?"
"Kintsukuroi," Elsa said, her eyes wide as oceans. "Anna…"
"Yes?"
Elsa bore her back on the bed, nipped her with her teeth, suckled her, feasted on her, made love to her.
…
They finally left the bed to take a long hot shower together, then dressed and ate breakfast at Elsa's cozy little table. Watching Elsa wrap her fingers around her mug of coffee and wink lasciviously at Anna and Anna knew she couldn't help it, she was falling in love, tumbling down these slopes as old as time and humanity.
She didn't care if Elsa broke her heart. Any time spent together, laughing, loving, living, was worth the risk.
Elsa looked just as beautiful without makeup; she smiled as she watched Anna put both cream and sugar into her coffee, as Elsa dranks hers simply strong and black. Two small points checked off their lists, and a million more to go.
The morning after could be awkward, Anna knew, but they laughed and spoke and often touched each other as they prepared to leave the house; Elsa would be driving Anna home. "What are your plans for the day?" Anna asked as she pulled on her jacket and shoes, standing by the front door of the house.
"Laundry. A walk. Some painting. Maybe I'll get to my studio later. What about you?"
"Some lesson planning. Cooking, I want to make a few prepared meals because I have some short lunch hours this week." Anna patted down her pockets, feeling for her keys, her phone; her eyes flew open and she said, "We haven't exchanged numbers!"
Elsa smiled as she pulled on her jacket. She recited her number to Anna, and she punched it into her phone before sending Elsa a quick text, gratified to hear a little thrum from the vibrating phone in Elsa's purse.
Then out of the house and into yet another cold, cheerless, grey Prague winter day, the March weather hissing and biting and ferocious as a cat confronted by a cucumber. Anna's mood began to darken as Elsa drove them away from the villa and towards Vinohrady and Anna's home.
After they had crossed the Vltava river and were driving towards the church at Náměstí Míru, Elsa glanced over at Anna and asked, "What's on your mind?"
Anna decided to be honest. "I'm wondering if I'm going to see you again."
Elsa looked at the road, and then back at Anna, then back to the road; she was nibbling gently on her lower lip. "If you're not doing anything tomorrow night," Elsa ventured, "you can come to my place and help me pack. And if you, uh, take Tuesday off, I'd love it if you saw me off at the airport."
Oh, yes, there was the sun, rising in Anna's hopeful heart, making today another decidedly perfect day. "Sounds like it could be another sleepover," Anna replied, putting her hand on Elsa's thigh, comforting herself.
"That and more," Elsa said, echoing the words from the day before. "If you're interested."
"Oh, I'm interested."
All too soon, Elsa had found a parking space close to the flat that Anna shared with Duke. Elsa offered to walk her to her door, but Anna declined, not wanting Duke to see her with this gorgeous girl and thereby pelt her with questions and innuendo. She would be giving her flatmate the boot today; he would be upset about being kicked out, and Anna didn't want to give him any ammunition.
She explained as much to Elsa, and the blonde nodded in understanding; she worked with people like Hans, and knew how their minds worked.
So they hugged each other, which was rather awkward in the car, and shared a last lingering kiss. "Thank you, Elsa," Anna said as she pulled her face mask from her bag and prepared to re-enter her ordinary life. "Thank you for giving me a decidedly perfect day."
"The pleasure was all mine, Anna," Elsa purred. "I mean that literally." Once again she touched Anna's face, caressing Anna's cheek. "See you tomorrow after work?" she asked.
"Definitely."
It was hard to leave her, but Anna put on her mask, opened the car door, and stepped out. Just before she shut the door, she heard Elsa call her name.
"Yes?" Anna replied, leaning back in.
"It was a decidedly perfect day for me, too," Elsa said.
…
Dear readers, thank you for joining me on this little journey together. I had a lot of fun letting you glimpse Prague and a part of my own lockdown life. I wish you all glorious inner weather, let the sunshine of hope forever radiate from your hearts. We are connected, far more than we realise. May you love fiercely, wherever, whomever you are.