Summary: She wasn't expecting him to walk back into her life so soon, and she certainly didn't expect him to be the one who knew too much. The dead end left her no choice but to accept his offer, and the deal was soon sealed with a kiss. But perhaps she still had to keep her eyes open, for she didn't like sharing her deepest secrets. And should he step out of line, the deed had to be done. After all, two can only keep such a secret if one of them is dead.
Helsa in Victorian AU, featuring evil!Elsa x evil!Hans, cause why not? Please heed the following tags: drastic mood changes, blackmail, Evil!Elsa, Hans is an arse, twisted couple, crime, the parents are big arseholes, violence, child abuse.
Note: I think this is my first time writing this kind of fic for Helsa. I know I've written about evil Elsa before, but this one has a different twist. Please note that I took the liberty to write the parents however I want, and I chose to go down the path where Elsa's parents were unfair and abusive (thus their treatment triggers certain reactions from Elsa. Then again, this is a fanfiction sets in AU, so if that along with murder aren't your thing, please click away. Additional warning: there will be a mention of death and a description of murder.
"Hans!" The chirping voice that belonged to her little sister broke the heiress from her stance.
Her head quickly snapped to face the younger girl standing beside her. "Pardon?"
"The gentleman," Anna said in the same tone, nudging her sister with her elbow. "His name is Hans Westergaard."
"And so?" There was a hint of annoyance and coldness in the blonde's tone, as she glared at the little sister, briefly.
When she decided to turn to the direction Anna nodded at, for a split second, her blue eyes caught his green ones, and a wave of nostalgia began to crash over her. No way! The blonde looked away. Her gloved hands were forming fists on her sides, clearly she was trying to conceal her emotion the best way she could. She couldn't just let it burst, not when she was in a room full of people. Besides, midnight is only a half an hour away, and once the clock strikes twelve times to mark the beginning of a new year, she can finally retire to her chambers. She wasn't obligated to greet him.
"Oh, Elsa, clearly he is interested in you!"
Elsa wanted to scoff, as something like fury and a hint of thrill (something she thought as a weird combination) stirred inside her, but knowing that Hans was basically still a stranger to Anna, she put on her cold facade. Anna's curiosity and interest were the last things she needed, especially when she wasn't in the right headspace.
"He is probably interested in my money." Came her simple reply. Or he is probably interested in something else , she couldn't help but think. "Just like others."
Being in the centre of attention was nothing new for Elsa, and most of the time she hated it. Ever since the news about her parents' mysterious death were spread across the county, men from all classes (who were brave enough) began to compete to win her hand. Those who were rich enough would buy her gifts from all around the world, while those who weren't would count on their silver tongues, offering her 'a good time.' But no matter how hard they tried to sugarcoat their words, it wasn't hard for Elsa to tell that they were all after her money.
Hans' sudden return, just in time after her parents' death, gave her the impression that he might be one of those men. After all, he had years to come back, so why now?
" Our money," Anna reminded her, and Elsa rolled her eyes upon the statement. "But I recall the Westergaard family is Papa's closest ally. They're probably as rich as our family is, so I don't see any reason why you think that way about him."
"He is the thirteenth son, Anna. That, as well as his birth status, is enough of a reason," Elsa stated, then adding. "It makes him a lesser man than I am."
The younger sister raised an eyebrow, before moving to stand in front of the heiress. "Well, not every so-called 'lesser man' is like that." Anna said, making quotation marks with her fingers. "And maybe you should stop using that term for people from lower classes."
Elsa took a deep breath, definitely she was not impressed with the way her sister talked back. "If we're talking about Kristoff, Anna, I won't change my mind."
"Excuse me? Kristoff may be a commoner, but that doesn't make him any lesser." Anna said with a slightly raised tone.
"Feel free to elope, then." She smirked with hidden intentions. "I'm giving you a blessing for that."
Anna scowled, deeply hurt by the way her sister had been acting. Of course she had seen Elsa's coldest side, but Anna just didn't understand. There were so many questions running through her mind; why Elsa hadn't been so kind; why she was hiding in her room for years. That last one, well, with her parents' sudden departure, Anna knew she would never get the answer.
Elsa was aware of the way she made her sister feel, but she just didn't care. In fact, there was a swell of pride on her chest, and she enjoyed it.
"What is wrong with you, Elsa? You're acting as if you're hiding something." The strawberry blonde haired sister scolded, refusing to back down. She wanted an answer, one that nobody but her sister could provide, and maybe—just maybe, she can have it now.
"I know our relationship hasn't been the best for the past years, but we only have each other now," she forcefully took her hand, "Elsa," contrasting to her action, her tone was softer, "please, please , just let me in."
By now, the band had stopped playing. Yanking her hand away, Elsa looked around, wide eyed. Her blue eyes were filled with rage and fury, as her face grew hotter, realising that all eyes were on her. Tension echoed in the grand ballroom, and the humiliation was like a slap to her beautiful face. Swallowing thickly, she tried to gather herself together.
Turning to glare at her sister, she coldly retorted, "No."
Elsa took a few steps back, eyes landed on a certain guest, who, like everyone else, was eyeing her with interest, watching as a drama unfolded. The smug on his face made him look stupid in her head, and Elsa clenched her fist upon the thought. He must be enjoying the scene.
"Why?"
Her little sister's question, thick with disbelief, forced her to look back. There was a look of disappointment on Anna's face, and if Elsa still had a little light in her it might change her heart. But Elsa was not that child anymore. She had grown into a young adult with so many scars to hide. She refused to lower herself to the same level as the spare .
"Why not?" The blonde scoffed. Her hands were folded before her lap, and with her head held high, she added, "If you excuse me, I'd like to retire for the night."
With a brief nod towards the band as a signal for them to continue, the heiress spun on her heels. Walking past several guests, she heard some guests murmuring to each other, the gesture was masked by either a glass of champagne or the back of their hands. It was mostly about how mannerless Anna had been acting, confronting her sister in front of an audience. Didn't their parents, God rest their souls, teach her basic manners? The corner of her lips twitched, but she said nothing. Did they ever teach that sickly little girl? Elsa wouldn't be surprised if they didn't.
As she spotted a footman holding the door open for her, she could feel a gaze burning holes on her back. Elsa smirked, as if she knew who dared to eye her so intently. Sparing a last glance at the man, she then disappeared into the dark corridor.
"No, no, please!"
Screams, followed by pleading, echoed in the dark corridor. It was late at night and no staff was around, and even if they weren't asleep, they knew better than to interfere.
"You wicked child!"
Then came a loud smack and a cry.
"Mother!" The little girl, only six years old, pleaded with tears running down her face. "I'm sorry. I promise I won't do it again."
"You better not do that again or there will be worse punishments," the mother snapped coldly. "I've told you so many times to not go to the woods, but you did, and not only that, you brought Anna along and didn't even look after your sister."
Lady Berkshire didn't stop there. With another swing of the riding crop, she whipped her daughter's palms, earning another whimper from the child.
"But it was Anna who asked me to go there!"
"Don't lie, Elisabeth!" Sternly, Lady Arrington stated. "Don't tell a lie and put the blame on your sister. Your own irresponsible actions are inexcusable."
Elisabeth looked down, chewing her lower lip, trying to not cry. She avoided glancing at her own palms, which were now throbbing and looking swollen. Her knees were tired from kneeling on the floor. She was exhausted, but she had to conceal it, afraid that if her mother noticed that, she wouldn't let her go to bed soon.
"Understood?"
"Yes, Mother."
Observing her daughter closely, the matriarch of the Arrington family then nodded, pleased with her daughter's submissive nature, before concluding, "Good."
The door to the study swung open just when Lady Berkshire put away the tool. From her spot, Elisabeth could hear footsteps walking in.
"Agnarr, is she alright?"
To the little girl's dismay, it was as if she was hearing another person in the room talking, a person so kind and gentle whose voice was full of concern, not a mother who had just beat her own child.
"Yeah, it was just a small cut on her knee. She's asleep now."
At her father's equally gentle words, Elisabeth let out a sigh of relief, but she didn't dare to say anything. At least her sister was alright.
"Tomorrow you will apologise to Anna," Lord Berkshire said, approaching the mother and daughter with a pair of satin gloves in his grasp. "Get up and put these on."
Scrambling to her feet, the blonde girl gracefully took the gloves and murmured, "Yes, Father."
"I take it everything is under control, Iduna?"
Elisabeth looked up just in time to catch a hint of smirk on her mother's face. "Oh yes, everything is under control, don't you worry," Lady Berkshire caught her gaze, "right darling?"
"Yes, Mother."
When her mother raised her hand, the girl tried to not flinch, but when she felt her mother's fingers combing through her blonde locks, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Good, remember to conceal and don't feel. Being angry won't make you feel better, Elisabeth. You'll only be in trouble, and remember, when you get into trouble, there will be punishments." The gentle caress on her cheek made her eyes flutter open. "It's the only way to make difficult children learn from their mistakes."
Difficult children. The only way.
She wasn't smiling, nor was she crying. She didn't want to allow her parents to see how she truly felt, and it wasn't as if her reaction would change her parents' mind. All her life she had been filled with anger, the only tool of expression that she knew, and for that she was often talked about for being a difficult child. Perhaps concealing her own emotions was for the best. It would not be easy, she knew that, but she could try.
If nobody could protect her, she had to protect herself.
The silence that greeted her by the time she stepped into her chamber was deafening, only when the door was closed with a thud did the ice break. Elsa leaned back against the door, sighing. It was still the same silence that greeted her every time, but she had grown accustomed to it. After all, she had been spending most of her time, during the past ten years, trapped inside those four walls.
"Let's not see this as a punishment, Elsa." Her father's words echoed at the back of her head. "More like a lesson, or maybe a chance for you to think about what you've done."
For what she had done. Elsa rolled her eyes at that thought. Her father might have been the 'kinder' one, always acting as if she was punished for the better, or maybe he manipulated her into thinking that way, but it didn't mean she didn't hold a grudge against him. She grew up knowing she was the odd one out in her family, with her anger issue and displayed aggressions being the sources of troubles she had encountered, yet why did she have to be punished every single time instead of given the proper education?
Pushing herself from the door, she silently padded across the room, where a huge family portrait hung on the wall, just above a long table. She moved to take off her gloves, never once did she take her eyes off the portrait, the gentle fabric was soft against her scarred palms. Tilting her head to the side, the blonde settled the gloves on the table, the corner of her lips curved into a half smile, but her eyes didn't reflect the same emotion.
A happy family of four. That's what the portrait was supposed to be. A set of loving parents, with their two daughters—one with hair lighter than the other (and one getting a better treatment than the other). They were all smiling at the camera, looking as radiant and happy as ever. Everything looked normal, but nothing is as it seems. What people didn't know was the backstory, what happened behind the screen, when nobody was looking.
Elsa was only seven when the picture was taken, and that made Anna four years of age. It took place a year before the 'incident' happened, but the mistreatment had happened long before that. Still, it surprised her, how good they were at acting as they posed for the picture. Nobody, maybe aside from the staff, had suspected what happened behind the closed doors.
And it seems like some things never change. Elsa thought quietly.
The sound of the door being unlocked suddenly tore her attention away from the portrait. She pressed her lips together, fighting an urge to smile.
"He came," she muttered under her breath. "He took the bait."
Turning around, the young heiress was greeted by the sight of an auburn haired man in a formal attire. There was a look of disbelief on his face as he stood there before the now closed door. For a while they held gazes, and once again silence filled the room. Taking a deep breath, Elsa then flashed him a small smile, only this time it was almost genuine.
"A penny for your thoughts?"
Elsa asked her companion, breaking the sound of nature that was surrounding them. She wasn't expecting an answer, but she asked anyway, for the sake of engaging in a conversation. He was her only friend, and although it wasn't so likely, she liked to think that she was his only friend— or at least the only one who cared.
Summer had arrived, and Elsa decided to go out riding, taking her favourite book with her into the woods nearby. Horse riding and reading had been her way to cope and unwind after hours of etiquette lessons and private tutoring. Once she noticed that her parents and sister had left for a monthly medical appointment in town, she quickly made her way to the stables and rode away with Nokk, a stallion that her distant aunt Yelana gifted to her for her sixteenth birthday.
An oak tree by the lake was her favourite spot, where she could sit and think for hours without her parents or sister interfering. The summer day was lovely, and although she wasn't much of a fan of the season, the sun was appreciated. When she arrived that day, much to her surprise, the spot was already occupied by the only person with whom she shared the safe haven the past year.
"What seems to occupy your mind, Hans?"
Hans shook his head. "Nothing interesting."
Elsa eyed him closely, observing the way his eyebrows furrowed as if he was thinking deeply, and the way his jaw clenched a few times. She had to admit it was hard for her to read him as he was never exactly an open book, but regardless, he was always a nice companion during her secret little trips to the lake. But the past month they had grown distant, and Hans hadn't been around as much as he used to. Perhaps whatever that was was the reason behind his behaviour.
"Sure, keep your secrets," Elsa said, looking away, biting back a smile when she got the reaction she wanted. He abruptly looked back.
"Secrets? I'm sorry, but I am not the one who is secretly gallivanting out of their parents' estate just for a little bit of freedom."
"Oh, believe me when I say that you'd do that if you were in my position."
"If," he pointed out, nudging her gently. "Let me stop you there."
A small smile played on her lips, as Elsa rested her chin against her propped knees. She was glad they were finally talking again, that they were finally close again. Although something told her that keeping her distance and her guard up was necessary for she had begun to realise that she was getting a little too attached. Still, she wouldn't say a word or admit it.
"I'm thinking about moving away."
Elsa felt as if her heart skipped a beat, and she bit her lower lip. She didn't know how to react, and decided that playing it cool was probably for the best.
"Well, that's new. What makes you think so?"
Hans shrugged. "It's my gambling problem, at least according to my father. I admit last week I went a bit overboard, but it wasn't like any of my brothers had never done that before. Apparently, Mother also thinks that it's time for me to get a steady job instead of spending my allowance in bars, and in order to do so, I have to move to America."
"That's ridiculous, there are plenty of jobs here."
"Not for a bastard."
"Right, sorry," Elsa replied. "I forgot about that."
A part of her regretted that part of their conversation. She knew of the way his family treated him. The fact that he was now nineteen and had never had a debut in society because his own parents thought how embarrassing it would be for others to be seen fraternising with that kind of person. She wanted to scoff, as she was reminded by the unfair treatment she had to endure for years, and how jealous she could get every time she saw children with their loving parents having a picnic in the park. But she had learned that there was no use crying over spilt milk.
"Have you ever thought about the idea of having a loving set of parents?"
Hans grinned, finding his question amusing. "Do you think it would make a difference?"
"I don't know, Hans, you tell me. I have to wear gloves to hide my scars," she said with a hint of sarcasm.
He exhaled, before turning to face her, "Didn't I tell you about this?" He pointed at the scar on his cheekbone.
Leaning closer, her gaze was glued at the faint mark in the shape of a triangle. Her fingertips were itching to touch his skin, but she had to hold back the urge. Blue eyes eventually found their ways into his green ones, as Elsa tried to read him once again.
"You did," she muttered, then she looked away and said, "gosh, none of us asked to be born, and they act as if everything is our fault, and that punishment is the only thing we deserve. They call us names when they're angry, names you shouldn't be calling your children, like,"
"A bastard," Hans finished the sentence for her.
"Or a wicked child," she added, looking back at him.
By now, the gap between them had narrowed. Whether it was the close proximity or the comforting glance his green eyes offered, she didn't know. The next thing she knew, she was eyeing his lips, before darting her gaze back to his eyes. Elsa noticed the way he gulped, before his lips moved to say,
"This is why we bond so well."
His tone was so gentle, unlike when was talking about any other things. But it was enough of a wake up call for Elsa, as she quickly blinked and pulled away, realising what was about to happen (or not happen). She had never been so confused before. Up until that very moment she believed she wasn't capable of genuine human emotion, yet there she was. And didn't he mention once that he, too, couldn't bring himself to care? Maybe she read it wrong.
"I believe so. Just two outcasts bonding over the miserable life they live in."
"And their abusive parents," he added, smirking. "Have you ever thought about making them pay for what they had done?"
The new question was enough to divert her attention, and she beamed. "Of course, I have! They always make us pay for what we have done, I don't see a scenario where they can't do the same."
Hans smiled knowingly, nodding in understanding. "I share the same sentiment, and speaking of, I have this plan in mind," he said, with a glint of mischief in his eyes, "but don't tell anyone."
Whatever plan it was, Elsa would love to hear about it, be it a prank they would be able to pull or a random scenario they could only imagine. So, shifting on her seat so she was fully facing her, she flashed him a smile.
"Don't worry, I won't."
"So, you're back," she said, making her way towards the window and sitting down on the long couch underneath it. The way that her mood drastically changed after the event that happened in the ballroom made her feel almost like a different person. Whether it was because she was back in the comfort of her bedroom, or his presence that brought back the thoughts of the good old days, she wasn't sure. But sure, there was hurt, that's if she could feel at all. "I was starting to wonder if you prefer to live across the pond, as I haven't heard about you for two years. You just disappeared."
"I had to," the man replied, "it was a part of my plan."
"Then why come back?" Elsa crossed her legs, patting the empty space beside her.
Hans didn't budge. "Because the plan is ruined."
Resting her chin on her palm, she glanced at him through her lashes. "Do you need help?"
"Elsa," he impatiently said, taking a few steps towards her. "Someone stole my plan."
"Well, I hope you'll get it back," the blonde shrugged innocently, smiling when the man lost his cool.
"You, Elsa, you stole my plan," he pointed his finger at her in something like frustration.
The heiress didn't even flinch, as if she had expected such a response from him. However, the close proximity did make her heart beat faster and her cheeks turned crimson. Her blue eyes could sense the way his green eyes softened when she reached out to grab his hand.
"Take a seat," she said rather gently. "What plan, can you be more specific?"
Hans looked away. "Parents found dead on their bed with six stabbing wounds each and their room in disarray, yet nothing was stolen. The children were out of the house, and no guard noticed any strange intrusions throughout the night. The mirror in the room was smashed, and the biggest shard, laced with poison, turned out to be the murder weapon."
Folding her arms across her chest, Elsa didn't say anything. Her mind wandered back to that fateful night, only briefly, and the corner of her lips twitched at the memory.
"Sounds oddly familiar," she concluded after a long pause.
"Elsa, Elsa, Elsa," he said, turning to her, "I didn't know you had it in you."
Elsa shrugged. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Hans took a deep breath, as if trying to contain his emotions, a gesture she had seen before when they first met years ago. Rubbing his face, he then added, "It was supposed to be a secret plan."
"So? If it was really a secret, you wouldn't have told me," she stated. "Besides, my father had a lot of enemies, anyway. Are you sure you didn't share that 'secret' with anyone else?"
"No, just you," he sighed, before leaning back against the backrest.
Elsa mirrored his gesture, her gaze was focused on her bed, or rather what's underneath it. The whole time, she could feel his eyes on her, and it brought back the familiar feeling from when they were still sharing that spot by the lake.
"It's rude to stare at people, you know."
"You got away with that." They both said at the same time.
"Pardon?" She looked back with an eyebrow raised.
"I can't believe you got away with that." Hans repeated, this time more firm.
Deciding to not play the game no more, the heiress rolled her eyes. "What do you want me to say, sorry?"
He shook his head. "What if I told you that I'm going to confess?"
Eyeing him from head to toe, Elsa then smirked. "You won't," she simply stated. "That sounds very noble, but you won't. Because that's not you."
"Not without solid proof," Hans replied, sternly. "There's a journalist in town."
"Who?"
"He is so keen on solving the mystery, especially after hearing something that a villager said or, I should say, witnessed."
Elsa frowned. "You're bluffing. Nobody saw me that night."
"A golden button covered in bloodstain was found near the lake. The villager said he saw a white horse with a rider on its back, long hair underneath a blue hat. A female rider stopped by the lake to wash her hands, he said, and he heard her sing a four note melody." Hans paused to see her reaction, before he added, "then I remember your mother's lullaby."
At the explanation, her heart began to palpitate, her chest rising and falling rapidly, and her mouth hung open. Blue eyes blinked furiously, and once everything began to sink in, she started to lose her cool, and she wasn't amused. The corner of her eye caught his smirk, and Elsa abruptly stood up. She knew he was up to something, and given the circumstances she might end up giving him what he wanted. Pacing around the room, anger and frustration began to build up. How could she be so reckless?
"I know about your little secret, Elsa."
The heiress froze and slowly spun on her heels. "What do you want, money?"
"Now we're talking." This time, it was him who had a smile on his face. Getting back on his feet, he came to stand before her. "I can take your side and make all of these suspicions disappear, but there's a catch."
"Say it!"
"Marry me."
The response left her petrified. He asked her to marry him, Hans Westergaard. Now she could see that what he wanted was more than money. Their union would benefit him as he would get wealth, status, a title, the land. But what would she get? Elsa scoffed. There was no way she would say yes to that arrangement if she had nothing to gain. Maybe if he asked her years ago she would have considered –no, things surely would have a different outcome, but she wasn't that desperate to marry someone. She didn't even know if she could love at all. And those moments they shared by the lake meant nothing. Hans and I aren't even friends anymore , or so she thought.
"I can give you money," she said, bravely taking a step closer, "only money. Just say how much."
"Don't you see that by putting yourself out of the market, people will pay less attention to you—or your grief, or the fact that your parents' murderer is still on the loose? A wedding is a good distraction, and so is a fine husband for the heiress."
Elsa almost sneered at his confidence. A fine husband, him? There's no certainty, only doubts.
"Trust me, Elsa, you'll gain as much benefits as I do from the marriage. I may not be the best person to share your bed with, well neither do you, now that I know what you're capable of, but I can be," he paused for a second, gaze landing on her unreadable expression, "I know I am just a bastard, but I've made a living for myself. I can be whatever you want me to be. Use me as your pawn, your punching bag, anything. I cannot guarantee joy, but I can assure you'll be the one to steer the boat."
For a while, silence surrounded them. There was no denying some truths in his words, and they sounded convincing, but then again, his silver tongue wasn't well known for nothing, and she feared she might be his next victim. On the other hand, this man knew too much, and she didn't plan on having another unnecessary casualty anytime soon. Would that be wise?
"Why?"
"Because I care."
"You said you can never bring yourself to care."
"That doesn't mean I don't have a heart."
Elsa felt that familiar fury inside her chest, waiting to be set ablaze. Her fists clenched on her sides, chest rising and falling, as she stared at him dead in the eye. There was a hint of sadness in his eyes, or was that pity? It seemed like his time away was spent on doing something useful. He had changed. This man standing before her wasn't the same Hans who used to come to the lake even during the coldest days of winter, because he knew she would be there. Then again, she wasn't the same person from two years ago. His departure along with that time her parents caught her when she went to the lake had changed her so much.
But not everything had changed.
The tension between them was thick and she felt as if she was transported back in time to that summer day, which turned out to be the last time they were meeting, to that time when she found herself eyeing his lips. Now, standing before him, she found herself doing the same thing, only this time she had some kind of curiosity. What if? She wanted to test the water before diving in, and so she spontaneously murmured,
"Kiss me."
Hans didn't need to be told twice. Holding her by the waist, he pulled her in and sealed the gap between them with a kiss. Eyes closed, Elsa parted her lips slightly, sighing when she felt his soft lips moving against hers rather fiercely. She sneaked her arms around his neck, pushing herself further into his embrace. The fire inside her chest began to subside, as if his kiss was the catalyst for her raging heart. For a second, she let herself get lost in this whole new emotion, or is it an excitement? Is this how those characters in the books feel when they're kissing?
But the moment was shortly lived, as her hand pressed against his chest, signalling him to pull away, and he did. Once they parted, Elsa had become more conflicted about the offer. Maybe she should consider accepting the offer and the proposal.
"Elsa?"
She looked up with her eyebrow raising, and she took a deep breath.
"I'll marry you."
"Alright then, I'll see you in the morning, my bride."
Hans smiled, before taking her hand in his. He lifted her hand and gently kissed her knuckles. He strutted across the room towards the door, and without saying anything else, he slipped out to the dark corridor. The feeling of his lips against her knuckles still lingered on, and Elsa brought her hand close to her chest. Looking out the window, she wondered if she had made the right decision.
Everything happened so very fast, his arrival, the blackmail, and the proposal. When she closed her eyes, all she could think of was the kiss—her first kiss. She admitted she liked the kiss, despite the foreign feelings that came with it. But would a simple kiss be enough to seal the deal? Elsa shook her head. She might not be able to think clearly, but she knew marrying Hans was a much better option than spending years in prison—or worse, being hanged for her crime.
Perhaps she still had to keep her eyes open, for she didn't like sharing her deepest secrets. And should he step out of line, she knew the deed had to be done.
After all, two can only keep such a secret if one of them is dead.
Note 2: This fic was supposed to be posted for Helsaween 2020, but I only got to finish it lately. Anyway, since my semester starts tomorrow, I don't know when I will be able to write or post anything. Hopefully I'll be able to keep up with more Helsa related events this year, if there's any. Cheers, for now! xxx
