Notes: I'm really sorry about the lag, I'm really struggling with the next couples of scenes so bear with me.
"Come on, Kristoff, please!" Anna begged, kneeling down at his feet and tugging on his hand like a child who desperately wanted something.
He sighed heavily, faintly annoyed that she wouldn't drop the request after he had said no twice already. "Why is this so important to you? It's just a damn portrait."
She pouted. "I'm an artist, and you are an interesting subject. Besides, I want to have something to remember this trip by."
"Then paint the damn cottage," he grumbled, "I don't want to sit around and stare at nothing for hours so you can paint me, Anna. It's my vacation too."
She stared at him with wide pleading eyes, but when he didn't budge she sighed and got up from the floor. "You are so damn stubborn," she muttered and stormed away, slamming the door to the bedroom with a crashing thud.
Later, as Kristoff was making grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch, he found himself the unwilling subject of Anna's sketching. While he had been rooting around in the fridge for ingredients, Anna had come to the island with her sketch pad and pencil and was now staring at him and scribbling furiously.
"I thought that I said I didn't want you to paint me," he reminded her lightly, though his tone sounded far more serious than his words implied.
"You said that you didn't want to sit around and stare at nothing for hours," she pointed out without looking up from her sketch pad. "You aren't doing that, you're cooking. As in, doing something."
He sighed as he buttered the bread for the sandwiches. "That isn't really what I meant, Anna, and you know it."
"It isn't like anyone else is going to see this but me," she said thoughtfully, tapping her pencil against her bottom lip as she looked at him. "It won't be embarrassing, I promise. It's just for me to remember you by. Are you really going to deny me that?"
He turned from the stove, walked around the island, and tossed her sketch pad and pencil onto it. Then he shoved his hands in her hair and kissed her, his lips so hot against hers that it felt as though he was branding her. When they were both gasping for breath, he pulled away and went back to the stove to finish lunch. "There," he said grumpily, now you have something to remember me by."
Anna stared at him for a moment, then she grabbed her paper and pencil off the island and stalked out of the kitchen without a word. Perhaps he was being too much of a hard ass, but he didn't really feel comfortable with Anna putting so much work into a portrait of him. It felt very intimate, even more intimate than what they had been sharing in the bedroom. It was something that a girlfriend or wife would do, not… not this, whatever they were. He just wished he could explain that to Anna without her getting so upset with him.
When Anna didn't show up for dinner, Kristoff went looking for her, though he was pretty sure he knew where she was.
"Anna, I made chicken fajitas," Kristoff said as he stood in the doorway to the front porch. She was holed up there with her easel, her paints and her sketch pad lying beside her. She didn't even seem to notice him at first because she was so absorbed in her work.
He stepped up behind her and looked at the sketches in her book. There he was, buttering a slice of bread for grilled cheese at lunch. He was surprised how she had captured a single moment, even when he had been in motion. She had even caught the tension in his jaw when he had been about to turn around and scold her. Somehow Anna caught moments, people, and brought them to life. It was beautiful.
"You can look through them," she murmured as she lightly drew a few lines onto her canvas. "You might find one that you like."
He looked from the book on the table to the girl bent over the canvas and sighed, his decision made. If she showed this much determination in all of her work, he couldn't fault her for wanting to capture her time here with him. "You can paint me if you want," he relented.
She turned to look at him, one eyebrow raising in amusement. "My sketches were good enough to change your mind?"
He smiled at her and bent down to kiss her again, though this was a softer, sweeter, kiss than the one he had given her at lunch. "No, Anna, I changed my mind because I think you are beautiful," he said simply. "Now come on, dinner is going to get cold if we stay out here much longer."
"But… that isn't an answer!" Anna argued.
Kristoff chuckled and made his way back inside.