Thanks so much for all the kind messages regarding my lack of motivation, guys. Warms my heart to know this story has so many fans.
I have made a decision on what I'm to do. Hopefully I don't lose any of you for this.
This will be the last update of Sucker Punch for a while. I like this story a lot better than A Never Ending Note, and want to able to devote the attention this story deserves because of that. However, I don't feel I can do that and work on ANEN as well. So, I have resolved to finish ANEN first, devote all my attention to finishing that up and then come back here to give you all the story you deserve.
This means Sucker Punch will be on a temporary hiatus, but please do not fret. I will be back as soon as possible. I didn't plan for ANEN to be that long, and I can wrap it up fairly quickly while still giving it the attention it so rightly deserves as well. I will not sell either of these stories short, but that does mean one will go untouched for a while.
School also starts Thursday for me, so working on two stories plus schoolwork is going to suck. This is yet another reason for this method of madness.
Anyway, I hope none of you are too upset, as I love the constant support this story has been receiving. I'm hoping maybe just a month and a half is all I'll need to finish up ANEN and return here, but with school, you never know.
So, there you have it. Please enjoy this last chapter for a while. Hopefully I've left you with enough of a cliffhanger to keep you curious while I'm away.
Love you all!
Chapter Five: Dig Deeper
Elsa is nice enough to wait for me to take the world's fastest shower and throw my hair up in the world's messiest bun before we head out. When I emerge from the showers, she's sitting on a bench in the locker rooms, staring down at her phone and rubbing her right arm, fingers dancing up and down that brace of hers.
"Hey," I greet as I approach, retrieving my bag and stuffing clothes into it.
She looks up and smiles. "Ready?"
I grin. "I'm always ready to eat!"
She chuckles, but quickly hides it bashfully behind a hand. My grin only widens at the action.
We end up at a small 24/7 diner, which is actually close to my place. Because of the late—or does one-thirty in the morning count as early?—hour, we opt to take the subway instead of walking through the park. I don't mind it in the least, seeing as how I do it all the time, but I can't help but be acutely aware of how it seems to put Elsa on high alert. It's only when we descend the stairs and immerse ourselves in a surprisingly large crowd for the time, that I notice Elsa had been wearing an overly large hoodie this entire time. Pulling the hood up, she wraps her arms around herself before hunching over slightly; almost like she's trying to bury herself in the clothing.
"You okay?" I ask, debating whether to reach out to her physically or not.
She spares me a glance and I immediately pick up on the anxiety swimming in her troubled—yet extremely beautiful—irises.
"Yeah," she mumbles in reply. "Just…don't like crowds, is all."
"We don't have to do this," I tell her, not wanting her to push any limits she may have.
This time when she glances my way, I'm awarded with a shy smile.
"It's fine, really," she says. "I want to do this."
Her eyes tell the real story.
I need to do this.
"Okay," I whisper as we continue to weave our way to a train.
We're safely on board before we know it, yet Elsa still doesn't put her hood down. I begin to think it's maybe because she doesn't want anyone to know who she is.
I almost say something to that effect, but realize last minute that she still thinks I don't know who she really is. I'm beginning to think that I need to tell her. Perhaps it will make her more at ease.
As I watch her continuously wring her hands together though, I recognize she's still on edge and decide to wait until we're at our destination.
We make it to the restaurant with no more hassles—other than pushing through another crowd upon getting off the train. Seriously, I thought that whole "city that never sleeps" thing was made up—and I actually feel relieved for Elsa's sake.
Once we're seated a considerable distance away from any other patrons, she lowers her hood.
I can't take it anymore.
"Don't you think you make it more obvious wearing that hood like you do?"
She looks up from her menu and to me, uncertainty and a spark of fear in her eyes. I smile my gentlest smile in hopes to calm her.
"W-What?"
"You don't want people to know who you are, yet it seems to me like you're drawing more attention to yourself with that hoodie," I explain.
She blinks at me, mouth agape in the cutest fashion.
"You know who I am?" she asks in a whisper, as if her identity is the world's biggest secret.
But, for her, maybe she wants it that way.
I blush guiltily. "Yeah," I mumble. "I freaked out when I first saw you and thought maybe pretending to act like I didn't know who you were was for the best." Seeing her still staring at me, I feel a nervous ramble coming on. "I… I didn't want to scare you off any more than I already had," I attempt to explain. "I mean, you kinda just dropped off the face of the Earth after the last Olympics and I figured you had a reason and…I don't know—like I said, I freaked. I mean, I…idolize you, you know? I mean, making the Olympics at seventeen? Winning the silver on your first try? Then the fucking gold?! I just…"
I slowly trail off as I see her avert her eyes to the table and take her lower lip between her teeth. I realize I'm probably either embarrassing her or offending her, and I wouldn't be the least bit surprised if I'm doing both, because, let's face it, I'm me.
"Sorry," I mutter. "Didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable or anything."
She says "it's fine," so quietly that I can't help think it's anything but fine.
I want to change the topic, I really do, but now that we're sitting here in a position to actually talk, it's all my mouth can think to blurt.
"Is that why you always come to the gym at night?" I ask. "Because you don't want people to see you?"
She shrugs, but the quick look she gives me says all I need to know.
My brain is screaming at me to start talking about anything but this, as Elsa is clearly growing even more uncomfortable and she's most likely about to up and leave me. However, my brain and my mouth have never gotten along well, and so my mouth continues to use its mind of its own.
"Why don't you want people to know who you are?" My mouth fires next at her. "I mean, I'm sure it can get annoying to be so famous, but-."
"Can we please talk about something else?" she snaps, effectively shutting me up.
I blush again and smile sheepishly as I apologize.
Elsa surprises me when she smiles in return.
"It's okay," she says. "I'm sure you have questions; I just…can't bring myself to answer them at this time."
I simply nod in turn, the words "at this time" instilling hope in me that perhaps one day I will learn the truth.
If I had only known then what an impact that "truth" would make in both our lives.
The rest of our "date"—because, let's face it, with how much both of us were blushing and all the shy glances that were stolen, that's, in essence, exactly what it was—goes by without a hitch. I manage to steer clear of talking about Elsa's fame and bringing up any questions, and instead our topics of discussion range from everything like our favorite color, to embarrassing childhood stories, to deep philosophical discussions about the possibility of an afterlife.
We split a stack of pancakes a mile high and both discover our love for chocolate when we both reach for the chocolate syrup at the same time, our hands briefly touching.
It was such a cliché moment, but I wouldn't have had it any other way.
Elsa also literally has to bribe the waitress into not allowing me to pay for anything, as she stands firm in her belief that this outing is her treat to make up for her rude treatment of me. Half of me detests greatly to this as I am my own individual and don't need anyone to take care of me, no matter how kind the offer, while the other half is happy to have Elsa treat me to anything else in the near future. If it gets her to smile as much as she has been tonight, anything would be worth it.
When she learns my apartment is only a few blocks down from the diner, she offers to walk me home, and my heart nearly explodes at the selfless gesture.
"It's nearing three in the morning," she tells me. "I've watched enough CSI: NY to have me fearful to let you walk home alone."
I chuckle as I hold the door open for her and we step out onto the sidewalk.
"Well, I've watched enough CSI: NY to know exactly what to do should I ever become a victim," I reassure her, even though I would most likely just end up screaming should anything like that actually happen.
It gets her to smile again though, and so it's effectively another victory for me.
The streets are nearly deserted now and so Elsa leaves her hood down. I look to her out of the corner of my eye as we walk and simply admire this ethereal beauty beside me.
I wish she wasn't so fearful of whatever it is she's hiding. Sure, fame might make you not want to not be noticed by everyone, but going the extra mile to only workout when the gym is sure to be empty? To go to such lengths to hide yourself in crowds? To make sure you're sitting as far away from other restaurant patrons as you can?
Yes, Elsa Arendelle was definitely hiding something; and this something was much larger than just distaste of the paparazzi.
But, I would be patient, I kept telling myself. I had to.
We were at the entrance to my apartment building before I knew it.
"Would you like to come up?" I ask, brushing an imaginary strand of hair behind my ear like I always do when I'm nervous. "I can make some coffee."
She smiles kindly, yet shakes her head in the negative.
"I should really get going," she says. "But, um…" she looks quickly to me before focusing on the door behind me. "There was actually another reason I wanted to do this."
"What is it?" I ask.
I can't help but smile goofily as she blushes once more, amazed I actually have this kind of effect on someone when usually I'm the one who can't control the color in their cheeks.
"Again, I hope this isn't too forward, but…I'd like to offer to…to train you. For the tournament."
I stand there, her offer having shocked me to silence. I blink, and only realize I haven't said anything when she begins to turn away, a look of heartbreak present on her gorgeous face.
"W-Wait!" I cry. "Yes! Yes, Elsa, I'd love it if you were to train me." I beam. "I'm flattered."
She copies my grin, her blush only growing.
A question then comes to me and I cock my head. "But why?" I ask.
She shrugs. "Honestly, I don't really know," she tells me, confusing me even more. "You just…remind me of myself, I guess, and I want to help. Plus, like I said, you're the first person I've held a conversation with in a long time and I really enjoyed tonight, so… Yeah."
I'm sure my face is as red as hers by the time she awkwardly finishes her explanation. I laugh in good humor.
"Well, that makes enough sense to me!" I chirp. "Count me in!"
She smiles, flashing perfect white teeth framed by even more perfect lips. I have to physically restrain myself from crashing my lips to hers in that moment.
"Great," she exclaims, looking happier than I've ever seen her. "See you tomorrow night at the gym?"
I can only nod, still too busy trying to contain my hormones.
"It's a date," I utter.
She bites her lip in typical Elsa fashion, before running a hand through her hair. She doesn't immediately take off though, which is a significant step up from last time.
"Great," she repeats.
We stand there awkwardly for a few moments with what I'm sure are similar thoughts. Do we just separate? Do I just offer an informal goodbye and then leave her on the stoop? Is she going to give me a hug? Should I give her a hug?
Are we supposed to kiss?
Neither of us meet each other's gaze until I clear my throat.
"Well…" I start uncomfortably. "See you tomorrow night then?"
My heart cracks at the look of disappointment that flashes across her face.
Shit, did I just reject her?
"Yeah," she whispers.
Then, she's down the stairs and turning the corner before I can shout goodbye. Pulling out my keys, I groan loudly.
What the hell have I just gotten myself into?