Shit, sorry guys. I kind of just upped and left.

Things got a little crazy over here, and I had to give a lot up while I picked up the pieces - but I'm back, at least. And I'll try to get a regular chapter down, but they'll take a while. D:

Hyperlust

"Anna, where are you going?"

"Home."

"Didn't Elsa want to meet with you?"

"So what if she did – I don't owe that yuppie anything?"

Kristoff sighed, turning himself away from the impulsive redhead, as much as he wanted to argue, he knew he wasn't going to get anywhere with her. But rather than squabble with her, he decided to focus on his own work. He'd had enough of it.

"Besides, it's not like I like her or anything." Anna called from across the room, the acoustics suggested her continued pacing.

He scoffed, and returned to his bass.

"Fuck off. It's true. She's just a capitalist fat cat in a lady suit." The anger in her voice was undeniable.

"Even though she doesn't wear suits? And doesn't own anything about the band?" He responded, regretting involving himself further.

"The fact she willingly allows her labour to be exploited for a fraction of its worth is the worst part of it." She was still pacing, and had been so since the show had ended half an hour ago.

"That didn't stop you wanting to fuck her." Kristoff sighed, he was done with this, and far too tired to continue now. "I'm going to the bar before it closes; why don't you find me when you're done. Or better yet, find her and let her know how you really feel." And with that, he had departed, leaving Anna to wallow in her own miserable revolution.

"Well fuck you! And fuck her! And fuck this stupid fucking bar and every piece of shit that comes here!" She really wanted to leave at this point. That way at least she wouldn't have to face Elsa again, or Kristoff till next morning. Why the fuck did she have to fall for an untouchable girl like her.

At this, Anna decided to find her way to the bar. She felt the same, but that last thing she wanted was to mope outside alone, at least she could chat with Kristoff and hopefully forget about everything. Maybe he'd be up for defacing the bus windows…

She sighed in desperation; her life was just a fucking mess right now, she just needed some time. I wonder how much it would annoy Elsa if I told her she was a fat cat… Would it at least make her leave me alone?

"Anna!" An easily recognisable female voice called from the doorway behind.

Fuck!

"Are you busy? You want a drink?" This was quieter than Anna expected, and there was a tension rooted in the questions, but she knew better than to investigate it.
No. "Sure." Anna murmured, unable to break her eye contact with a particularly grubby stain on the concrete.

"Is it okay if I sit with you?" Almost a whisper this time, and she had to strain to hear it.

Fuck no. "Yeah, why not." She replied, still refusing to shift her gaze.

Elsa stepped forward, taking her time to bend down and sit cross-legged beside her, and the silence consumed them both awkwardly for a minute.

"… Great show, huh?" The singer spoke enthusiastically.

Anna simply shrugged in reply, and took a beer can that was handed to her, opening it and taking several sips.

"Yeah. That crowd was amazing; they really loved our song, don't you think?"

She responded again with a shrug, drinking her beer a little faster now.

"Anna?"

No response.

"Did I do something wrong?"

"No, why?"

"Then why are you ignoring me?"

There was a stillness then, an eye of the storm kind of calm, because though Anna could see Elsa's heartbreak, and it crushed her to witness it – she could detect an excitement in her eyes, an familiar one, but excitement nonetheless.

"Fuck, Elsa..." She hesitated. Fuck this. She'd given up on the idea that she was angry with Elsa; it was a reflex, maybe she just didn't want to admit she had a crush on someone who inhibited everything that was wrong about capitalism. No. She just reflected the perfect victim of capitalism. At least she retained some dignity of not being a corporate owner.

And sat there, staring into those blue fucking eyes, there was little Anna could do about resisting her next action. Leaning over, refusing to waste another second, her hand found Elsa's cheek and mouth found mouth as she closed her eyes. Christ.

She felt hands upon her hips, and Elsa's lips sliding against her own, her body aflame with the feeling of the girl's touch. It was minutes before they parted, and both their cheeks were now reddened with flush and warmth, the icy cloud of their respiratory gasps mingling at the closeness of each other.

"… Anna—"

"Don't… Don't say anything." The guitarist whispered, breathless. "Just let me know if I can do it again."

There was no worded response; only movements and touches.