Paper Stars
"I was wrong," Kristoff confessed, staring out into the ocean as waves collapsed onto the shore, sweeping under his bare feet. He shook the seaweed off his toes when the waves receded and picked up a porous black rock peeking from beneath the wet sand. "I never should have forced it between us."
Elsa listened quietly but didn't answer. Instead, she proceeded to remove her shoes and pull off her socks, folding them into a tight ball before stuffing them into her sneakers. She rolled up the hems of her jeans just above her ankles, annoyed that they would not go up any further. It was nearing sunset and the winds had picked up, blowing effortlessly over the sandy beach along the coast, carrying with it particles of sand and mist from the turbulent ocean waves. She closed her eyes and hugged her knees, digging her toes into the sand.
"I want nothing more than to give you the moon," he said mournfully. "I thought I could be what you needed, the same way I need you, you know?" he paused, thumbing the rock in his hand. "That's what this whole trip was about. I thought if it was just you and me watching the sunset and sleeping under the stars, that maybe it would fix us. But it's all wrong. Everything has been all wrong."
He wound his arm back and pitched the rock as far out into the ocean as he could, amassing all his pain and frustration into his swing. He never saw where it landed, never saw it mid air. He only felt it as it slipped from his fingers before it vanished into nothing.
"You don't come near me unless I reach for you first," he went on, turning to face her. His body outlined by the golden glow of the sun as it began to dip into the horizon. "We've been together for almost three months and you don't touch me. And I never get the sense that you want to."
"Kristoff," she uttered wistfully as she rose from the sand, but she didn't know what else she could say.
He looked beautiful to her, shrouded in gold, sadness pressing on his slumped shoulders. The dying light from the sunset appeared to be an extension of his body, consuming the ache inside her own, and, in a strange way, it pleased her to know that he was hers.
"I'm letting you go," he told her, pushing back the wetness in his eyes. "I can't be the thing that holds you back."
"What are you saying?"
Elsa took a step toward him, overwhelmed by the sudden hot ache clutching her chest. It was something like fear and anger eclipsed by a surmounting sorrow. She had no word for it, and she wouldn't for many years to come. In the moment, she only knew that it was not something that she wanted.
"I'm saying we should end this. How can I hope to give you everything, when it feels like I clipped your wings? What kind of man does that make me?"
"No," she stressed firmly, taking him by surprise.
"It's okay," he told her. "You don't have to pretend with me. You can do whatever you want."
"Then, I want you," she insisted, "I need you to know that." She took him by the hand before he could say another word, pulling him up the steep sand dunes, as she led him back to the car.
"We forgot our shoes," he realized, ready to pull away and go back for them. But she held on firmly.
"Later," she told him.
He didn't fight her when she pulled him in with her into the back seat of his dad's car. Nor did he protest when she told him that she loved him back. It was natural to follow and let her take the lead. It was inevitable that he would. He saw the stars that night, glowing beneath him, pulling him into the heat and fire of an ardent embrace, daring him to empty all his hope unto her, and he never looked back.
Author's Note: Never could find the right place for this scene, so I gave it its own chapter. Next chapter is the last. Liked it? Hated it? Littered with giant plot holes? Feel free to comment below and let me know what you think.