Meh. Short chapter for the long wait, but I guess we should all be kinda used to that by now, huh? -_-
Anyway, I'm thinking next chapter starts the final arc of Sucker Punch. Going back and rereading it and looking at what I have planned, I'm starting to see I kinda unintentionally wrote this in three arcs, or acts. The first one being Anna getting Elsa to open up and reveal her secret to her (and them falling for each other), the second getting Elsa to go public (and them admitting their love), and the third, where we are now, Elsa getting her prosthetic (so what's in store for them in the love department here, hm? ;) ). So, *gasp* Sucker Punch is coming to a close! Although with my update "schedule" it'll probably be another half-year…
Chapter Twenty-Six: Prelude
I awake the next morning to a feeling of absolute bliss. There's a pleasant ache between my legs, which soon has me moaning as I relive the events of last night in my mind with a shiver, and the wonderful aroma of chocolate fills the air.
Wait, I think groggily, chocolate?
Opening bleary eyes, I notice Elsa is missing from beside me, her spot in her bed still warm, however, proving she hasn't been up long. A moment later, a clatter from the kitchen and a string of expletives following has me grinning.
"Elsa?" I call out, getting out of bed and pulling on my underwear—and a shirt at the last minute as an afterthought.
"Fuck… Out here, Anna!" I hear her shout back.
Following my nose, I get to the kitchen to see Elsa standing in front of the stove, her arms spread out to keep me from seeing what's cooking, and a mix of guilt, frustration and glee on her face. That NYU shirt of hers has some kind of food on it, and there seems to be flour on her face. I giggle.
"Trouble?"
Elsa shoots me an indignant look. "Shut up, you," she grumbles, though with a grin of her own. "I wanted to bring you breakfast in bed."
I can't help but roll my eyes as I cross my arms playfully. "I thought we were finished doting on me?"
Elsa rolls her eyes back at me before turning back to the stove and whatever she's making—or trying to, anyway.
"Well, after last night, I figured you deserved it again," she mumbles shyly, her bare foot bumping the hardwood floor beneath us.
My cheeks immediately flush and my body heats up at the memories that come flashing through once more. "You liked it?" I ask softly, now shy myself.
She spins around, looking like I just asked the stupidest question on the planet—which I'm guessing I did, actually; since, you know, last night happened.
"Of course I liked it!" she cries with a laugh. "Anna, that was probably the best night of my life! I've never felt such…ecstasy before."
"You mean at the club or…after?" I can't look at her.
"Oh, now you're going to get flustered?" When I finally manage to look up again, she's sauntering toward me with that flirtatious strut I love and hate at the same time—'cause damn, really, who's this freaking hot this early in the morning? Elsa, apparently. "You didn't seem all too embarrassed last night with my head between your legs."
I squeeze my legs shut instinctively as another shiver wracks my body. "E-Elsa…"
She just smirks so devilishly and trails a hand down my cheek enticingly. "Or when I had you screaming my name to the heavens while I-."
Fuck, I can't take this.
"E-Elsa!" I exclaim, pushing her away with a laugh. "Cut it out, will you?"
She chuckles as well, suddenly overcome with a blush like she just realized how lewd she was being. "Was that too over the top?"
"No!" I refute instantly. "Just… I just woke up and you're…getting me raring to go already."
Elsa's blush increases tenfold then, as if she didn't realize how worked up her words could really get me. We spend the next couple moments in an awkward silence, both glancing at each other and then looking away upon getting caught.
You know, cutesy, stupid high school stuff we've long since passed.
"Regarding your earlier question," Elsa speaks up after a while, "and in all seriousness, I meant all of last night. The club and the…the sex."
"So… No regrets?" I ask, because, fuck, I need to know for certain I didn't pressure Elsa into anything she wasn't ready for. For once…
"No regrets," she echoes in affirmation, radiant smile on her lips.
Beaming, I all but tackle her in a hug, crashing my lips to hers in a feverish kiss. Breaking apart far too soon for either of us, yet wanting to address that amazing smell which has been drifting among us, I peer over her shoulder.
"So, what are you making?"
Her face falls slightly as she, too, looks behind her, staring down at her "work" with a sad, yet amused smile.
"They're supposed to be chocolate chip pancakes," she sighs.
"How'd you manage to get one to look like the continent of Africa?" I ask with a chuckle and playful nudge to her side.
She swats at me before moving to place the…oddly misshapen…pancakes on a warm plate.
"Making pancakes is a lot harder than you may think with just one hand," she explains. "Didn't really think of that before I started."
Oh.
And just like that, my stomach goes from being in my throat from flirtatious banter, to down in my gut with dread. Elsa sees my disheartened expression, however, and quickly works to rectify the situation.
"Anna, please don't feel bad," she tells me. "I'm not upset! Maybe a bit, because damn it, flipping those bastards was no small job, but I'm sure they still taste good!" Quickly grabbing one, she takes a bite, nodding in approval. "If you don't judge me on presentation, I think I did a pretty good job!"
I look between Elsa, her right arm in its brace, and the plate of pancakes with a somber look. If Elsa isn't acting like this is a problem, then it really shouldn't be. I mean, the fact that she was able to make breakfast, wanted to, and didn't care upon realizing she was at a disadvantage was a good thing, right? It meant her arm was no longer on the forefront of her mind; she was back to thinking she could do anything and everything she could and in the same capacity before the accident.
So then why did it still leave a bitter taste in my mouth? Was I perhaps upset that Elsa seemed to be improving? That sounds shallow and selfish as hell, but could that be it? Was I afraid she'd cast me aside as soon as she regained that confidence she had lost? The more rational, overwhelming part of me screamed no, and demeaned me for even thinking such a thought. Yet, a small part of me really felt that. Was I that insecure that I thought Elsa's love wasn't real enough and was just some…side effect from all the drama we had been through lately? I knew Elsa loved me; I mean, hell, look at last night! Would that have happened if her love was really misplaced or misguided?
"Anna?"
I look up to meet her gaze, finding soft oceans of blue wavering back at me. Another, even worse thought comes to me then.
Do I not want Elsa to heal?
Was that the real reason why I was so hooked on her? Was she just some project for me to fix? Someone who needed someone to coddle them in their darkest of times? Again, the glaring answer was no, as even before I knew of Elsa's secret, I was hooked to her like a puppy to its mother. Then again, "broken Elsa" was the only Elsa I knew; it was the Elsa I fell in love with. Would that love dwindle or fade as Elsa got better?
God fucking damnit, listen to you! my mind screeches at me. You're looking at this as if Elsa's something that needed fixing, or that you're just some drug she got addicted to while hurt! That's not what's going on here, you dolt! She loves you; you love her! None of this is about her injury! It may be the force that brought you two together, but it's not what's keeping you together now. Deep down, you know that. And she does too. Now, woman up, and start eating those amazing-smelling, drool-worthy pancakes, idiot!
And just like that, with a blink, I smile at Elsa, take the plate of pancakes in one hand and her arm in the other, and start dragging her to the kitchen island, where a couple barstools sit.
"I got dibs on the Africa pancake!" I exclaim jovially.
XxXxX
Christmas was quickly upon us. The weekend before, my parents called, saying they were taking a trip up to the city to spend the holidays with me since I had come down for Thanksgiving. I had no qualms with that, and even requested they stay in my apartment during their stay to save money on a hotel room. After asking Elsa if it'd be okay for me to stay with her while my parents were visiting—to which she eagerly responded yes, of course—everything was set.
They arrived on the 20th, and Elsa and I met them at the airport. After that, the four of us practically didn't separate unless we were sleeping. Which was fine, believe me; I mean, I love my parents, and even though I had just seen them less than a month ago, it had seemed longer. The only worry on my mind was that Elsa would feel misplaced. When they had called, mom had basically all but demanded Elsa spend as much time as she possibly could with us during the holidays since she was now aware Elsa had no family of her own to be with.
While a very considerate offer, and one I knew Elsa would take up in an instant, I couldn't help but fret it would make her uncomfortable. I mean, this was only the second Christmas for Elsa without her parents, and I'm sure last year's was hell, her parents having just passed away five months prior. I didn't even want to imagine how Elsa spent the holidays last year.
So yeah, Elsa's second Christmas without her family, and now we were expecting her to have one with someone else's family like that? Of course, I knew my mom was only asking out of the goodness of her heart, and I knew Elsa knew that as well. Still, that didn't mean it sat well with me.
Regardless, Elsa agreed willingly—after reassuring me close to twenty times that it really was okay and wasn't going to be as painful as I was expecting it to be.
Still, memories of previous Christmases from happier times did plague her at night now and then, but I was always right there next to her to chase any demons away and make new, happy memories with.
Christmas Eve night, Elsa treated my parents and us to a showing of A Christmas Carol at Carnegie Hall, explaining it was her gift to them for being so welcoming towards her and making her truly feel she had another mother and father. Of course, my mom was reduced to a blubbering mess at that confession, and after nearly suffocating Elsa in a hug—which only ended once my dad and I literally pulled her away—dad gave her a grateful hug as well.
Christmas Day wasn't much different from Thanksgiving night. My mom turned my kitchen into a grade-A restaurant overnight and invited Elsa and me over for the most drool-worthy dinner I had ever seen her make. After our traditional Kentucky Christmas dinner of country ham and almost every side you could think of, plus chocolate cheesecake for dessert—seriously, it's a shock my family and I aren't morbidly obese—it was time to pass around presents.
After Elsa gifted my parents the tickets to the show the previous night, mom would have none of her trying to get them anything else, so Elsa politely refrained from doing so, instead choosing to complain to me on the side that she still felt like she should have gotten them something else, no matter how small or inexpensive. I placated her by saying that the tickets meant more to them than she thought, seeing as A Christmas Carol is my parent's favorite holiday play, of which they hadn't been able to see the past two years as the Arts program in Louisville hadn't put it on due to money reasons.
My parents gave me a brand new pair of boxing gloves in a shiny, ruby red; something I was in great need of, seeing as my old pair I had had since freshman year of high school. Elsa gifted me with an intricate pair of ice blue ice skates, along with a confident smirk that by the end of the winter season, I'd be a pro on the ice.
I had never been good at giving gifts and had a hell of a time trying to decide the best gift for Elsa, but I eventually settled on a small charm bracelet from none other than Tiffany's. Of course, I also gave her multiple bonus gifts that night once my parents were gone and we found ourselves between the sheets—if you catch my drift.
I felt bad that my parent's gifts seemed lackluster compared to my girlfriend's, but they reassured me I had seventeen other Christmases with them that I hadn't had with Elsa. They were pretty satisfied with anything I gave them by now. That made me feel much better as I watched mom unwrap a collection of four books and dad a nice watch—which did actually cost a decent amount, thank you very much.
When it came time for my parents to give Elsa her gift, they produced a long envelope from mom's purse. Elsa and I exchanged curious glances with the other as Elsa turned it over to open it. As she continued to do so, I glanced to my parents for any kind of hint. I wasn't given much of one, as my dad only winked, my mom too engrossed on Elsa.
With a sharp gasp, I immediately looked back to Elsa to see her holding a check in her hand. When she showed me the amount—a hefty five grand—I balked as well.
"I-I can't accept this, Mr and Mrs Summers," Elsa had choked out, not daring to believe the figures on the paper before her.
My parents wouldn't have any of it, of course. They claimed that despite how short a period they had known Elsa, they already felt as if she were a second daughter to them, and were willing to help her reach her goals in any way possible. They, like much of the nation, had watched Elsa's reveal on TV that night, and ever since then had agreed they would chip in any way to help Elsa get that prosthetic.
My parents weren't wealthy people by any means. Sure, we weren't poor, as I had lived a very comfortable life thus far, never really going without something I wanted. I had to work my way through college, sure, and scholarships and grants helped, but my parents were also able to chip in there as well. Now, I had little to no debt thanks to them.
Still, writing out a check for five thousand dollars to a girl they had only met a month ago, despite being their daughter's girlfriend, was nothing short of the most generous act in the world. Elsa had a good cry in front of all of us, and I think it's safe to say we all came even closer together that Christmas night.
Elsa and I showed my parents around more of the city later that week, taking them to museums and all that jazz, to which they repaid us to treating us to dinners out at acclaimed restaurants. By the 28th, however, they were on a plane back to Louisville, leaving Elsa and I to our own devices for New Year's.
"This past week has been amazing, Anna," Elsa purrs in my ear New Year's Eve as we sit cuddled on her couch to watch the ball drop, a bottle of champagne open on the table before us.
"It has, hasn't it?" I respond with a wistful sigh, nuzzling closer to my favorite blonde.
Elsa and I had agreed to spend New Year's Eve watching the ball drop on TV versus actually being there after Elsa had claimed only tourists are crazy enough to wait for hours in the cold in Times Square. Apparently, locals avoid Times Square like the plague on this night. After learning that being there in person meant arriving at ten in the morning to get a decent spot and then not leaving until well after midnight—seriously, you can't even go to the restroom without losing your spot, not to mention restaurants and stores around there don't let people in unless you're an actual customer—I decided maybe just watching it on TV was the best option after all.
I mean, we were warm, we—especially me—had drinks, and we were in the privacy of Elsa's apartment, not being pushed and crowded down on the cold streets. I don't know what I had ever been thinking wanting to go to Times Square in the first place.
"I think tomorrow I'm going to go to Mt Sinai and register for the trial," Elsa speaks up after another moment of comfortable silence.
When I crane my neck to look at her, I see her twisting her champagne flute in her hands nervously. Shifting to face her, I reach a hand to her cheek and make her look at me.
"Yeah?" I prod gently. "You want me to come with?"
Glancing away from me and chewing on her lip briefly, Elsa nods. Smiling, I kiss her mouth.
"Then it's a plan," I whisper.
"New Year's Resolution, right?" she asks with a small laugh.
I nod and grin. "New Year's Resolution."
And if anyone could keep to one this big, I knew it was Elsa. We had one hell of a year ahead of us, but I knew we'd be able to handle anything thrown our way.
The biggest reason being that we knew we would be doing it together.