She was glowing.

He had known that after stepping out of the competition, she would devoted herself to the company her father had left for her, to take over after her parents' departure. It was why, despite her wish to go and move to Norway, her birthplace before she was brought to live in New York where her sister had been born, she remained.

And for him to accidentally find her in the most unlikely place.

Standing in the supermarket, facing the frozen food section with the bright red plastic basket by her feet, she was dressed in a comfy coat to accommodate with the early winter with her hands stuffed in the pockets.

For months he hadn't seen her, had not dared to, as he was obviously the last person that she would wish to see anyway. She had confirmed that she was pregnant, just two days after she stepped out of the competition, yet refused to tell who the father was, stating that it was a private matter than she wished to remain private. Someone did asked if it had been him, as he had been her partner for a short amount of time, yet she firmly stated that they had no relation whatsoever other than being friends, keeping with her promise that it would not affect his career in any way.

Yet as much as she had cut him out of her life, he had to speak with her, because he was responsible no matter what.

So he dared himself to approach, ignoring the heavy lump in his throat as he took his hands out of the pockets of his pants. When he reached her, just by her side, she remained silent, her head didn't even turn to look at him, or perhaps she didn't notice him? "Elsa."

"Don't." Her voice was quiet, yet firm nonetheless, as her hand grabbed the bag of peas, placing it in her basket before she took the basket and turned to leave, yet he was quick enough to grab her wrist to keep her in place. "Let go of me."

"I need to talk to you."

"I don't want to."

A straight rejection slapped over his face as she freed her wrist out of his grasp, and though he could easily chase over her, he had only followed her around without touching her, as he realized invading her personal space was the wrong move to make. "Elsa, please, you're pregnant with my baby, I realized, for far too late, that we have to talk eventually."

The clenching of her jaw was apparent as she stopped to grab a can of corn out of the shelf. "Fine, then talk."

"I'm so sorry; I was a jerk, a total douche, I don't even know if I'm capable of your apology." Her only respond was a low unimpressed hum from her as she kept her eyes fixed on the products, yet he wasn't sure if she was contemplating on what to buy or to avoid his gaze, perhaps both. "I was afraid, I never expected you to be pregnant, and I wasn't thinking straight. I was being selfish and only think of myself, I chased over something foolish and left something precious instead. I didn't even win the gold."

"Yes, I know, I watched it on TV." He could feel his face burned at this as did his heart, because she watched him, no matter what he had done to her; she still kept their promise of watching each other's performance.

She was so cold, and he couldn't blame her for it. For everything that he had done to her, for her to let him talk was considerate d enough. "Elsa, I'm so sorry for everything. After you left, each day I felt as if something inside of me had died, I realized that you and the baby are worth more than thousands of medals, worth of everything in this world. When you told everyone you have no relation with me, I felt as if my life had just shattered right there."

"But it's true, isn't it?" Her head had finally turned to face him, and angry tears had started to build up in her eyes. "We never dated each other, we just happen to sleep together and have a baby, right?"

"Elsa-"

"Just stop, Hans." Her hand went up to her face, the heel of her palm rubbing against her eye to dismiss the smallest piece of evidence on how much he had break her. "I'm tired, I got everything I need, and I want to go home instead of standing around in the supermarket. So let me go."

"Can I drive you home?" Her house wasn't far, and he had known her habit of walking instead of taking her car when she needed to buy something from the store. "Please, it's the least that I could do for you."

"Where's Anna?"

Out of politeness, and his insistence of carrying the brown grocery bag for her, she had invited him into her house. He had never stepped into it before, had only seen the outside of it, and must he say that it truly matched with her; simple and elegant with a touch of modern glamour.

"With Kristoff," she had made her way to the kitchen, no doubt to unload her grocery, while he still stood in the family room, staring at the portrait of her with her sister and late parents after one of her competition as she was still wearing her costume, smiling at the camera as she wore the gold medal around her neck proudly. "You should be thankful, she's probably going to punch you the second she sees you."

He must have been too quiet, too deep in drinking the surrounding of where she had been living, that she had come back from the kitchen with a raised eyebrow and arms crossed over her chest, already gotten rid of her coat and left her with cream sweater, jeans, and the boots she had been wearing.

And God, she was gorgeous.

She had always been beautiful, breath-taking and able to turn heads around, but she was absolutely magnificent with the baby bump that has grown and stretched the sweater at her midsection. He wanted to slap himself for missing it, the chance to see his child grows with his own eyes.

"How far along are you?"

Again her jaw clenched, and he knew him discussing about their child was something that was not entirely comfortable for her, even painful to talk about. "Twenty weeks." Her arms remained crossed as she answered, almost reluctantly.

"I missed half of the pregnancy." Again his heart hurt, burning inside his chest, at the thought that he wasn't there for so many things; the morning sickness, the first ultrasound, the first movement of the baby. Lars was right; when she needed him the most, he wasn't there.

There was a bitter laugh that sounded more like a scoff as she rolled her eyes. "No shit, Sherlock."

"Elsa, please, let me make this right. I made the biggest, most idiotic mistake; we both know you're the intelligent one between us anyway." He approached her, and though blue eyes narrowed, she didn't flinch when he came face-to-face with her, though her face remained straight when he placed his hands on either of her cheeks. "I don't deserve it, but I want a family, I want to be with you."

For a moment there was nothing but silence between them before he felt her softening under his touch, his thumb wiping off the lone tear that had decided to fall from the corner of her eye. "It took you long enough."

"I know; I'm as slow as a damned snail, huh?"

He took the initiative to lean forward, and when she didn't push him away, he captured her lips with his own. He was gentle in kissing her, taking his time to ease them comfortably as his hands moved down to her belly, marveling at the curve of it.

The sudden movement from within did make him pulled away, taken by surprise while Elsa just chuckled as she put her hand where his was. "She doesn't want to be left out."

"It's a girl?" When she nodded, there was a mixture of emotions in his heart; one where he was angry to himself for even missing the reveal of his child's gender, and two was a surge of protectiveness because it was not just a baby anymore, it was a little girl, his little girl. "Did you pick a name?"

"I have some in mind," Elsa shrugged as she let her fingers tangled in his auburn hair while he had crouched down to pay closer attention to her bump. "But I want to see her first before deciding." Deep down, she truly missed this, she missed him, and she had wanted to have him like this with her, to support her and to love their daughter together, even when he had hurt her in the past. "I'm open to suggestion though, should you have a list for names."

The ending is cheesy, I know. I'm the worst at making endings lol

Yes, it may be a little too easy for her to forgive him, but since it was meant to be a short story that I write when I'm stuck with 'Chess Piece', I don't really want to write overly complicated one.