So I'm lying here, just drifting off, Kristoff holding me tight, hands on things that are nice and soft, and somehow, I can't stop thinking of you. Of our first time, shortly before Christmas that year. The mess we made of my room, and each other. And just how gloriously happy it was, and how you even cared for me afterwards, tucking me in like a little kid. I let out a happy sigh. Kristoff doesn't begrudge me the memories—plus, he loves me in ways that are sometimes rather different to yours. But it's real. It's just as real as what we had.

I turn back slightly, kissing him, and then I sleep, letting the memories wash over me. Another Friday, I think. I had the day off, and you were done with rehearsals before the first big show—the only show you could do. During the Christmas season, too. I remember that.

—∞—

"Elsa?" We were in the kitchen, just cleaning up after lunch. I'd done the cooking.

"Yes?"

"About that pampering you owe me, the lazy day you said I could have?"

"Today?" I saw her smile as she sidled over, wrapping an arm around my waist. We kissed for a moment; her lips tasting like strawberries. "Sure, we have no commitments, and I would like to show you how to give a proper massage."

"Hey, I—" I cut myself off when I saw her smile. So mischievous this time.

"You will be okay with me touching you this much?" There was concern in her voice.

I put my arm around her, bringing her in close for another hug. I had to be honest, not brazen it out with humour. "For a while."

"You'll tell me if you get uncomfortable?"

I nodded. "I'll let you know."

"This isn't you forcing yourself to try again because you know I want us to have sex?"

"Maybe a little," I shrugged. "It was just going to be a massage, right?"

"It will be," she nodded. "I will take it slow for you. Now would you like to use my bed or yours?"

"Mine's softer," I was already through the kitchen door, half-dragging Elsa behind me. "So mine, of course."

Upstairs, as I waited in my doorway, I knew I should've tried to clean up. At least a little. I turned in time to see Elsa waving an admonishing finger at me like some kind of overbearing matron. But instead of saying anything, she walked past me, and picked up a few of the items, putting them back onto shelves, or on top of my dresser, or just out of the way. I started on the pile near the bed, then grabbed the laundry hamper from the ensuite. She gave me a look as a I knelt down to grab a pair of briefs from under the bed.

I sat with my back to the bed, staring at nothing. "I just… I haven't felt like much since therapy. We talked, and it helped, and it just… ugh." My hands balled into fists. "I don't have the words, dammit. I'm forcing myself, and today I felt brave enough to ask, and it's because there's this wall—this wall that's made of everything that happened to me. Everything he did. With you, I want to make good memories. The best memories. But I was so afraid to start, that all of that would come rushing back and take me back. And I'm still afraid, but this time, everything, it's all my choice. I want you to touch me. So much. More than just hugs and kisses. But what I'm afraid of now is that I don't know where to start."

Her hand found mine, and I stood up to meet her gaze as she sat me on the bed. "You're still afraid of reliving some of those memories, aren't you?"

I nodded.

"I can give the massage with your clothes on, if you like."

I laughed, leaning into her. "Now that's just silly."

"No, it isn't." The earnest tone shook me for a moment. "I am being as accommodating as any person should be. I will not force you into anything."

"I know." It was nearly a shout. I looked at her, meeting her eyes, letting her see the trust. I repeated it, much quieter. "I know."

"Then… can I take your shirt?"

I giggled. I really couldn't help it. "How far are you taking it?"

"Off?" The confusion was beautiful, along with sudden understanding. "An-na, seriously." The way she drew my name out. I bit my lip, and tried to look sultry. The laugh said I sold nothing of it.

I held my arms up so she could remove the t-shirt.

"Would you like to take mine?" I blanked for a second, then saw what she was offering. I pulled her t-shirt off, accidentally grabbing a handful of her breast while doing so. "Was that on purpose?"

"No, sorry." It was impossible to hide the blush. I really liked what I'd felt.

"It's okay," she patted my shoulder. "May I take your jeans now?" My mouth was suddenly dry, and all I could do was nod.

I lay back on the bed, undoing the button while she went for the zip. Then she pulled both legs at once, and I shifted slightly so she could get those jeans all the way off. She undid the button on her own jeans, lying back next to me.

"If you want." Was all she said.

I rolled over and kissed her stomach, then carefully re-fastened her button. "Not yet." I sighed. "Maybe not this time."

"I understand." I heard the want, and the disappointment in that voice. Also, the endless patience. I had no idea how she did it. Her hands were on my shoulders again, fingers gently teasing the straps of my bra. "Do you want to keep this on." I shook my head. I felt her hand trace down to my hips, resting against the waistband of my briefs. "These?"

I took a moment to consider. To be naked in front of her. All of me exposed. Available. Vulnerable. I shivered slightly. What did I really want? Images flashed through my mind then. Bodies intertwined, panting and moaning. Sweat, and heat, and so many things. As much she wanted me, I think I wanted her touch more, in that moment.

I knew my voice was probably too quiet, but I made the words as confident as possible. "No bra, no briefs. I want to feel you touching me."

I felt fingers twisting the hooks on my bra. I squirmed playfully as she dragged my briefs down my thighs. I looked up, disappointed she was still wearing a bra. She smiled for me. "Would you like to take mine off?"

I nodded, a little too eager.

"Go ahead." And there was rather more fumbling than I'd like to admit. A lot more. I kissed each of her breasts, just once, after I'd freed them.

"I–I hope that was okay?"

She laughed brightly, giving me a properly sultry look. "Someone once told me adults can make their own rules."

"She sounds very wise."

It was then that Elsa fell on top of me, half-pinning me to the bed as she succumbed to a fit of the giggles. Where parts of her had fallen, I wasn't about to complain. Neither was she, from the look in her eyes.

"May I kiss you?" That took me by surprise.

"Of course." The fire between us. So strong. "But why ask now?"

"Consent." She rolled off me, then sat up slightly. "Things can change, in the moment. You can give consent, and you can revoke it too. But I guess you never really got to learn about things like that. You've never had that kind of relationship. I'm sorry, it must be—"

I held up a hand. "I haven't, you're right. But I'd really like to try one." I lay back down, staring up at her, the way some stray hairs framed her face in the most beautiful way I think I had ever seen.

"Then will you turn over?" I gave her a questioning look as I grabbed a pillow to lean on. "Because I'll massage your back first, silly. Now, is it okay if I straddle your legs?"

"Umm, yes?" She didn't move. "Yes, it's okay."

I felt her straddling my thighs, denim jeans slightly rough against my skin. Her fingers pressed gently at my shoulders. "May I touch your back, and arms, down to your bottom?"

"You may." I lost myself rather quickly after that. Her fingers were good, working the muscles deep and teasing out all the stress. I thought it was the best massage I'd ever had. Of course, up until that point in my life it was also the only massage I'd ever had. Her fingertips pressed against my shoulder blades before she worked deeper with her palms. Then it was on to my arms. Firm, but short of being painful. She knew what she was doing.

I turned slightly against the pillow. "How are you so good at this?"

"Dancers use a lot of muscles to throw themselves around," she was matter of fact, but she was also leaning close to whisper in my ear as she worked on my arm. "We get sprains, and strains, pulled muscles and minor injuries. We learn a bit about physical therapy, and massage, and other techniques to deal with it."

"That… that makes a lot of sense."

"And you," her fingers traced down my back, finishing near my hips. "Are you enjoying this?"

"Quite a lot," I sighed in contentment. "You can touch my legs too, and my butt, if you want."

"I do want." She whispered in my ear. "I want so badly to touch all of you." I felt it as she sat up, sliding a little further down my legs. "But for now, this is a very nice butt." I felt the way she was grabbing it, almost smiling to myself. "You must work out."

I laughed, shaking my head. "Is it supposed to be funny?"

"If we're both having fun, who cares?" I had to admit, she had an excellent point.

"Ugh," Want and frustration overcame me for moment. I wanted us to be together, and was this really the best I could do?

"Anniken?" Elsa had stopped moving, her fingers no longer touching. "Are you okay?"

"Maybe?" I felt it as she moved aside, no longer straddling my legs. "I really don't know."

"Do you want me to go?"

"No!" I was surprised at myself with that one. I really hadn't meant to shout. "No, just stay with me for a while."

I rolled over, looking up at her again. All the concern written across her face. The love and the care for me. I felt the tears welling up, and knew it was all wrong—and none of it was her fault.

"I pushed myself too much," My hand found hers, and I pulled her down next to me. "But I had to try."

"No, you didn't," she kissed me on the cheek. "I have told you before, I have toys, and fantasies. I can wait for as long as it takes you to be ready. We could start with just watching, instead of touching. We could make each other little videos. Whatever steps you are comfortable in taking."

I held her close, hugging far too tightly. "Why…" but it wasn't really a question. "What did I do to deserve this kind of love?"

"You survived," she kissed my forehead, then my nose, then my cheek. "You saved my life." Our lips met for a moment. "You deserve love, no matter what happened to you in the past."

"I… deserve… it?" I gave her a skeptical look as she brushed away the tears.

"Everyone does," there was a happy little laugh. "But I choose you. I choose to give you all of my love. I know maybe you cannot be accepting all of it right now, but I am giving it to you."

Then came one of the bravest things I'd ever done. I lay back, spreading myself out across the covers. "If I told you could touch anything, anywhere, what would you do?"

"I would ask why," her hand found mine. "Then I would ask you to show me how you wanted to be touched."

I turned to her, shocked and utterly blindsided. "That's all? And… that's a thing?"

"You might think I am not seeing it, but I know how brave you are being, just being naked next to me like this." Her hand placed mine against her breast—just between them—and I felt her racing heart. "I am always excited to learn. Your body is not mine; of course you will be knowing it better."

"You sometimes said that you couldn't be held responsible for what your body did if I wore certain things around you again."

"Like your riding leathers, yes," I could hear the smile in her words. "That was for flirting. Trying to seduce you. I knew you were not ready, but I was also thinking that you very much liked the attention."

"Oh, absolutely." And for some reason I was on top of her, kissing her with a passion I hadn't felt before. "Umm… are you okay with this?"

"A fiery kiss from a naked redhead on top of me?" Her smile lit up the room. "How many fantasies do you think involve this, and more?"

"A lot?" I rolled off her again, breathing heavily. "Mine involve a blonde, and she's such a prude."

Laughter.

Suddenly she was on top of me, not pinning me, but enough to scare me for an instant before I felt the softness of her skin. "Elsa?"

"The prude would like permission to start kissing you. A lot. From your neck to your navel, and everywhere between."

"Please." Kisses fell across me like snow. Down my body, my chest and stomach. Around my breasts. Across my hips. One just below my bellybutton. Another, lower. And then she was moving up again. Teasing, testing boundaries. I wondered then what it would feel like to have those lips against mine—between my legs. Something I'd never experienced before. And something that right now I wanted to feel for the first time.

One hand found hers, while the other pressed a finger to her lips. I wanted to guide her without speaking. To give my consent without having to break the moment. I read it in her eyes. She would not push. All of this was on me, and I had to ask. Or at least be clear in my desires. So I guided her a little closer, then closed my eyes and lay back against the pillow. "Please…" it was a breathless whisper, but it was clear.

I'd been pent up, frustrated, keeping it all in for so long that the sudden intensity surprised me. So much so that I fell off the bed, not realising how close to the edge I'd been.

"You okay down there?" I was staring up into Elsa's rather amused face. "Other girlfriends said I was good, but…"

I poked out my tongue at her. "I think the earth moved."

"We can continue down there if you like," she handed me a pillow. "I mean, at least you can't fall off anything else."

So I dragged her down on top of me.

"That's gonna leave a mark."

"On me too," I massaged my thigh where her knee had hit me. "I blame the jeans."

"The prude says the jeans stay on—but you can reach into her pants if you really want."

"Really?" I rolled on top of her, straddling her legs while she stared up at me. Her hand tugged at mine, guiding my fingers down, pressing me against her, against her naked flesh, below her jeans, and below her underwear. I didn't really know what I was doing—despite my own experiences—but she did, making motions for me to copy. Her other hand rested against a tangle of curls below my waist, pressing softly but insistently. Only then did I realise I had two hands I could be using, and one of them was idle.

Just by touch, just with our eyes. Our breathing. How much could we share without words? For a moment, she was on top again, making me moan and writhe in ecstasy. I was on top, her shallow, panting breath driving me onward, urging me to bring her over the edge. I did.

I had no idea how we wound up near the dresser. How half the things we'd packed up were suddenly on the floor again. But I did know why her breathing was so deep and even, and why I felt so suddenly tired. A jacket, a sundress, and a pair of pants served us blankets. It might have been freezing outside, but from the heat in here, it was all we needed. And as I drifted off, hearing a little half-snore from my exhausted girlfriend, I wondered at how much I had missed; how much I still needed to unlearn.

How much I needed to heal; the connections between body and mind.

I looked back in wonder at the size of the step I—we—had taken in my path to healing. I kissed Elsa's forehead, brushing some stray, slightly sweaty hair aside. She sighed contentedly, and held me a little tighter underneath the jacket we were sharing. Everything else could wait.