Chapter thirty-one

Picture perfect

She'd definitely overdone it yesterday.

From the moment Elsa woke up, everything hurt. Every major muscle group on her body screamed at her, as if on strike for unreasonable working conditions. She sat up in her bed, tossing aside the tangle of blankets and sheets she'd thrown onto herself. She hadn't put the most effort into re-making her bed before drifting off to sleep, and soon the whole tangled bunch of blankets was on the floor again.

She gently stretched, testing the limits of her strained muscles. Her arms seemed the least strained, so a day of internet browsing was likely in the cards. Not to say she would've been more active otherwise, but now she had a good justification for it.

Blearily, she brushed the sleep from her eyes and yawned. The memories of the night before returned to her, and after a quick mental check to confirm she hadn't just dreamed them up, she smiled.

I might as well stop dreaming. No dreams could compare to this.

As the world came into focus, she noticed something unexpected – a white cylinder on her bureau. She reached out for it, taking it in her hands and determining what it was. It was her protein shaker, with a post-it note on the front. She took a sip as she waited for her eyes to adjust, finding it well-mixed. Soon, she was aware enough to read the note, though she could already take a good guess as to what it said.

Elsa,

I'm out for my jog right now. You always complain about having to shake up your protein thing while your arms are still hurting, so I thought I'd do it for you. Hopefully, it's still cold when you wake up.

Love, Anna

P.S.: This counts as me making breakfast for you.

Elsa smiled. She gave the shaker a smooch, then popped the top and drank. It was entirely homogenous, mixed vigorously and completely. A mental image of Anna vibrating up and down, shaking the bottle as hard as she could entered her head, making her giggle.

She never goes halfway. Especially for me.

xxxxxxx

A routine was a good thing to have, and Anna would be the first to say so. But now she found herself wishing Elsa's was different.

Anna lay in her bed, idly staring up at the ceiling. She could still reach either end of it with her fingertips while laying in the middle, but now it somehow felt larger and emptier, as if having two occupants for a month or so had stretched it out.

She glanced at the clock on her phone. A quarter till ten – it'd be at least forty-five minutes before Elsa made it back from the gym. A few months ago, she would've been completely out of energy at this point in the day, with only a bit of internet browsing between her and sleep. But dating Elsa had drastically shifted her body clock backwards. And that wasn't the only thing her body had grown accustomed to.

Anna crossed her legs, feeling the desire burning within her.

Things had cooled down between them just a little bit in the past month – now they were only making love every two or three days. But then, due to circumstances beyond her control, they'd gone five days without. Which was to be expected, and not a problem – Anna had tided herself over by burying herself in her homework. But it felt unfair that, just when they were both ready to go again, it was Elsa's gym day. It wasn't unfair, of course. It just felt that way.

She reached for the internet browser on her phone, then pulled her thumb away from it. On a whim, she instead reached for the text message icon instead. Elsa's name was near the top of the list.

Hey, Elsa, she texted. A few seconds passed before the reply came.

Hey.

So, how goes the workout? she typed, hoping that this was a perfectly nonchalant thing to ask.

Elsa saw right through her. It goes for another hour, that's how it goes.

Aww. Are you sure?

Pretty sure.

Well, so much for subtle coercion. Maybe a tug at the heartstrings might work?

She opened up the camera and snapped a picture of her face, schooled into the saddest, mopiest expression she could muster.

Lol, I've got a stronger will than that, sis. Try again.

She prepared to do just that, screwing her face up to be as pitiful as possible. Then another idea struck her. A crazy, bonkers idea.

Is there anyone next to you?

Uh, no. Why?

She doesn't even suspect what I'm about to do. Probably because it's crazy.

I mean, couples do this, right? Sometimes?

With shaking fingers, she grabbed the hem of her blouse and lifted it up. Using the selfie cam to guide herself, she raised the garment until the bottom of her bra was visible. Then she took the fabric and bit into it, now using her mouth to hold the shirt up. As an added bonus, the shirt now partially covered her blush, which had blossomed profusely. She snapped the photo, meaning she was now a tap away from sending it.

Am I really about to do this?

…Fuck it.

She hit send.

The stress in her body was released almost immediately. The deed was done, and she now had only to wait for the response.

Jesus, Anna! I thought you were just gonna type something sexy!

What's the difference?

Because then it'd just look like a normal text from far away! If you see a sexy pic from twenty feet away, it's still obviously a sexy pic!

Sorry, I guess I got a little carried away…

…was the first thing she typed. Before she hit send, that mischievous part of her brain spoke up again.

Elsa wasn't really mad, she could tell, just a little flustered. And since she was already in Mischievous Girlfriend mode, why stop here? She could double down…

She erased her apology, and typed up a new response.

Well, better hide in a corner, then, 'cause there's more coming. Send.

Drawing from her homework, she lay belly-down on the bed, pulling down her pajama bottoms far enough to show off her panties. It felt ridiculous, but she managed to keep a straight face for the picture, before bursting into giggles. Send.

Anna, knock it off. You can't break me like this.

Oh, really? One more shouldn't hurt, then.

She pulled off her shirt, then took a bite of her left bra strap, assuming a pouty expression that she hoped would look sensual. Send.

Thirty seconds passed, then…

I'll be home in fifteen minutes. Be ready.

I will be.

I'll be all sweaty and nasty.

I can live with that.

Twelve minutes later, she heard the car pull in. A short while later, Elsa entered her room, still in gym attire and as sweaty as she had promised. The expression on her face was slightly peeved, but mostly amused.

"Sorry," Anna said, lying on the bed in exactly the same state of undress as her last photo. "I'm needy."

"Oh, don't worry about that," Elsa said. She pulled her sports bra over her head, then tossed it to the side with a flick of her wrist. "I'm needy too."