OOFF, I'm finally done with this one. I have like 10 different drafts. But I'd rather publish something that's short but I'm satisfied with, than something long that makes me cringe. Quality over quantity and all that.

And to the guest review: nope, this won't be a retelling of frozen. One bc I don't like those things, two bc no powers. :)

Anyway, hope you like this!

"Ok, that one is Orion's Belt, the other one is Sirius, I know there's a Bellatrix somewhere, and… that's all I remember from what little can be seen."

Maybe it was the world insisting on its irony, pure cynicism, or Elsa trying to find a reason for her need to emphasize such contrast, but the night ended up being just like the day: nice weather, clear sky, starry night.

The perfect excuse to have dinner in the backyard, at their aunt and uncle's house. The new one, that Elsa just got to see a few hours ago. And to try to distinguish the stars amid light pollution, in between bites of a delivery pizza way too greasy to be this tasty.

"That's all? Really?" Anna asked, raising an eyebrow. "But you were the one who made a super formal request so we could put up the stars in our room!"

"It was the only way they'll let us use a ladder." As a kid, Anna turned into a little hurricane whenever she got excited about something. Which often meant acting first and thinking later. Elsa was always the cautious one. The one who was afraid of breaking the rules and remembered them out loud every time they did something they shouldn't. The one that covered the tracks of their mischief and took responsibility for both of them. Ergo, the one their parents trusted to not end up in the hospital. "And for the record, I wanted to follow the constellation guide from the box, but someone started sticking them up at random."

Anna hit her with the elbow with a "Hey!" and pretended offense. Barely. As if she was being overconfident. Or maybe it was just exhaustion making itself present in every way possible.

"It was nicer that way, admit it."

Truth to be told, Elsa had no idea how these things worked. What was the standard etiquette to follow when in mourning. They spent the whole evening receiving condolences from relatives, from those who came to this impromptu meeting and from the ones that sent messages as if they saw them in more than just pictures. Messages that Elsa, at the moment, didn't plan to answer. She didn't know how, had the energy to think about it, nor wanted to stand the inevitable plastic conversation that would follow.

Perhaps taking breaks was okay, and that's why they let them be, sitting by their own table as if they were still kids.

Could they, should they, though? Uncertainty stained Elsa's nails a light purple as her fingertips froze. They had lost their parents, they were supposed to be this pair of fragile, hurt puppies now. Supposed to. As it was easier to treat them as kids and keep an eye on them.

"I do, I do." Elsa turned to her sister, forced a small smile. "I always thought the smiley face you did in one of the corners was cute."

"My first masterpiece," joked Anna with a fake accent, before taking a sip of her soda with her pinky up and an exaggeratedly straight back. And if it hadn't been such a weak gesture, so not-Anna in its delivery, maybe Elsa wouldn't have noticed how much she was hurting. Given that she was the type of person whose energy made them move with the entire body.

They weren't ok. Nobody here was. You could see it in the postures, the voice tones, the heavy sighs, the extended silences. As if the air had turned heavy and blue, yet the implicit rule stated they should act as if they weren't drowning.

That included Elsa, regardless of what she actually wanted. Her immediate world was falling apart with each intrusive memory. Still, she put effort into doing her part. Just as she was taught, just as expected. No one had to see her like this, much less Anna. What kind of sister would she be, if she had a breakdown the only moment they could take a break? She couldn't afford such a luxury.

Anna was doing the same thing, though, as pretending was a family tradition, one of the many things that got swept under the rug. Hence why Elsa appreciated Anna's innate transparency.

Like now, that there was a natural pause in the conversation that Elsa used to fill her stomach with water, and she saw Anna's doubts starting to itch in her fingers.

"I guess a lot of them already fell, right? Or that you took them off, or they made you take them off. I would get it. I mean, it's kinda childish and you ever, I don't know, invite a boy over the least you want him to think is that you are childish —not that you are! Just that, uh-"

"Anna." It was rude to interrupt, but Elsa felt she had no other choice. "I never took them off."

"...Really?"

Elsa nodded like it was the most obvious thing in the world and she had missed the hope in her sister's voice. She never dared to do such a thing, because it had been their room back then, and sometimes, when she couldn't sleep, seeing those stars was like seeing good memories. The ones where Elsa's shoulders were still made of cotton and the family was whole, happy.

Though many times, it led to certain things and it's reasons why.

Things that, supposedly, wouldn't be a concern anymore.

But she wasn't about to say a thing, as acknowledging it would lead to an entirely different conversation. And this was a lie. Or, well, a distraction might be a better term. Or a different path, too. The one that is prettier but takes twice as long to reach the destination.

"Some don't glow as much as before, but that's it. Also, why there's always have to be a boy in the middle? No boys. Ever."

"It was a figure of speech! Twenty-twenty and all that. So, you know, it doesn't necessarily have to be boy…"

"Anna."

"Ok, ok! I won't say anything else, I promise."

It was something they did without thinking. A mutual effort. Maybe by the force of habit of acting as if time hasn't gone by, of believing that blood was stronger than what had been lost along the way. That there was nothing to talk about. That they didn't meet after so long at a morgue.

That they weren't living a tragedy and they had similar lives. That neither the guilt nor the questions existed.

It was never the right time, never had enough time to stop pretending. So they had to settle for things like this. Distractions.

A moment of silence passed, in which Anna decided to use Elsa's shoulder as a pillow, and she wasn't sure if this was the moment were the inevitable truth would start to sink in, or where they ended up chatting about nothing and viral puppy videos on the internet.

"...Can I still tell you about my summer crush, though?" At least her sister agreed that the former could wait.

"Of course you can." Elsa nodded with a small smile, because hearing the enthusiasm in these anecdotes made it all the more comforting. As long as they didn't include her in future plans or expectations.

And while all this charade would likely change now, it had already become a habit. Pretending was what sometimes made life easier, after all. And one had to believe the lies for them to become truths.

I laughed and cringed at the same time while writing the later half of this conversation, lol. Elsa + heterosexuality? pfft, Nein, nein, nein! But eh, teens are teens.

If there are any grammar/general mistakes, let me now! No editor this time so, I'm on my own now oop! :(

Chapter 3 is done already, I just need to make some adjustments and decide whenever or not should I add more angst or not. Hm...