Her head's split in two by the morning sun's fury. That throbbing ache intensifies when she reaches across and feels the shadow of Elsa's warmth. She must've left moments ago. The slight dent in the mattress. A little taller than her. Fingers graze the spot where she breathed in the scent of Elsa's hair to sleep. Trying to cling onto whatever ghost of her presence that remains in this room before she's undoubtedly about to be ejected.
No ejection comes. Only Elsa, hands on hips. Already in running gear. Deadpan voice without a trace of the affection that lured her to bed last night.
"I'm going for a run," Elsa announces, "you're welcome to join me."
Christ. What time is it? The dawn light barely illuminates a wall clock. 6 A.M. She's insane. There's no fucking way I'm gonna-
"I-I should be training for my fight," Anna sits up and rubs her forehead, trying to shed its aching split. A glass of water appears beneath her eyes when she opens them. She tries to discern that look in Elsa's eyes as she holds it out to her. Concern?
"Drink up. Let's go."
Nope.
No amount of water washes away Anna's hangover. Elsa lays out exercise clothes on the bed. All dark and brooding colours.
"I'll…I'll let you get dressed," Elsa mutters, before shutting the door and leaving Anna clutching the sheets to herself. An indecipherable ache gnaws at her chest. It hurts even more when she steps out in one of Elsa's Nike T-shirts and trainers and notices that mess they've left on the way in last night had been arranged neatly. Converse sneakers stacked next to her purse. Jackets and jeans folded. Like the wanton passion from last night was a mere dream. Like she wants you out. Yet why bother asking for a run? It ends up being a slog anyway. The crisp, winter air sears her lungs as she keeps up with Elsa's gruelling pace. Through the undulating, dimly lit suburban streets. Elsa's unfazed by the barking dogs, or the hoodied, smoking figures on street corners selling crack. She just runs. Anna just follows. Even towards the end when the blonde clearly slows down so that she's able to finish without throwing up last night's beer.
It doesn't matter. The wheezing lungs and aching calves pale in hurt compared to the confusion raging within her. She doesn't even wait until they're fully back within Elsa's apartment to lay it into her.
"What did we do?" Anna rasps, lungs still hurting.
Elsa raises an eyebrow, before chugging a Gatorade.
"We ran six miles."
"No, god," Anna covers her face, "you know what I'm asking. What did we do last night?"
Her eyes bleed apathy. She looks away at the sparse, tidy interiors of her apartment. Strangely devoid of anything boxing-related. No medals or gloves strung up anywhere or pictures. It might as well be a showflat.
"We went out, had abit to drink, got back to my place and ended the night by hooking up," Elsa stares at the carpets, "it's not a big deal."
Anna's eyes flash wide open, "Not a big deal?"
Blue eyes loom straight over her. But this time, Anna finds herself hard-pressed to find any attraction at the sheer indifference within them.
"Look, Anna. We're both adults. We all make mistakes from time to time, it's just part of-"
"Oh my god," Anna covers her face, "is this what it was to you? That last night was a mistake?"
Fingers flex around the Gatorade bottle, "Don't you think so?"
It hurts less getting punched in the face.
"For the love of-" Anna turns away, "god - did I do something wrong? Did I screw something up or what-"
"No!" Elsa's voice cracks, "I had a great time. I know you did too - there's nothing for you to get upset over."
"Well, yes there is!" Anna mouths off, unafraid of waking the neighbours, "if we just fucked and you're gonna treat me like some stain on your life."
"Oh, don't be irrational! We're still gonna see each other again. Won't we? At boxing? You have a fight coming up and it's your first-"
Once again, that softened look on Elsa's face melts her down into a puddle. Those eyes give her hope. She relents. Until the next exchange destroys what little shreds of self-esteem left in her soul.
"Do I at least get your number, so we can hang out again next time?"
The answer sends Anna storming from the apartment. Not even realising she's still wearing Elsa's clothes.
"Maybe that wouldn't be such a good idea for now."
No matter how scalding hot the shower water goes, Anna still feels the warm undercurrent of tears flow down her cheeks. She butts her head against the wall. Replaying every little action. Every word in that frail voice.
The second thought was you.
That someone is you.
You're a piece of work, aren't you?
You. You. You. She directs the words at herself. She's been thinking of you. Anna frowns. Sucking in a deep, steam-laced breath that fogs the confusion swirling round her brain. She also used you. Plain and simple. You fell for her words and got abandoned when she got what she wanted. You're just a cheap fuck, Anna. The levelled accusation poisons her soul with self-loathing. And yet.
Why'd she wait so long to ask me out?
Why was every exchanged word so abortive?
Why'd she only want to give in bed and not receive?
She buries her head in the crook of her elbow, trying to look past her own adoration and self-pity. Searching for a good thing to come out of last night. A run. Cool, branded sportswear and sneakers. A fuck. That's right.
I fucked Elsa Williams.
Holy shit - you did, didn't you? You slept with a gorgeous woman and you made each other come.
A smile spreads across her face. Fading when she detects chanting behind the pitter-patter of shower water.
"Walk of shame! Walk of shame!"
Anna shuts the water and dries off, before flinging open the door at Belle in the kitchen with raised fists and a grin.
"What?" Anna spits, still in her towel.
"You didn't come back last night."
"I texted."
"Not enough," Belle smirks, "I'm asking you how it went down."
"Oh my god Belle, you're not seriously expecting-"
"Aw come on," Belle raises upturned palms, "all those bowls of oatmeal? You can't expect us to be roommates and not to share some gossip, right? At least tell me who he is."
Anna sighs, "She."
Her eyes fly wide open. Mouth puckered like a goldfish.
"Ooh, ooh, ooh!" Belle squeals.
"If you're gonna judge me, save it."
"I'm not judging you - unless you're judging yourself."
Anna's eyes falter.
"Are you?" Belle sneers.
She looks down, "Yes."
The huge exhalation from Belle's nostrils flutters her hair, "Why? I'm assuming you got laid as fuck with some hot babe-"
"Yes, yes. I did-" Anna smiles.
"Who is she?"
"A girl I met at boxing," Anna answers, hesitant to reveal more, "her name's Elsa."
God, even hearing that name from herself claws at her chest.
"Williams?" Belle asks, "Tall and blonde? Quiet girl?"
Her eyes widen, "You know her?"
"We share sociology classes," Belle's smirk widens into a full-blown grin, "Damn - s-she's hot though."
Anna's mouth goes dry all of a sudden. It's not the hangover for sure.
"She is? I mean - yea I think so?"
Belle prods her shoulder, "You like her. Don't you?"
The irritation from Belle's incessant pestering frazzles her, "C'mon, I'm sure there was some sort of 'like' before I let her stick her fingers in me-"
Belle covers her mouth, "Oh my god you did it. Her. You did her!"
"I don't," Anna shrugs, "just, don't make such a big deal about this, ok? And please for the love of god, don't mention anything to her in class-"
"It is a big deal! Don't you remember what you were like when you first came here? You couldn't even look me in the eyes. And now you're disappearing off in the middle of the night and hooking up with a freaking supermodel-"
The revelation hits her like a mean left hook and nearly staggers her.
"That…that's true, but it's not like it-" Anna's lips falter between grimacing and smiling, "yea fine - but it's not like I'm gonna get anywhere with her."
"Oh? You're really looking for something more than just a hookup? Am I gonna be trading sociology notes with Elsa in our apartment before you two disappear behind the door?"
Anna looks at the floor and sighs. Only to look up again at the slight tip of Belle's fingertips to her chin.
"Also, Anna - you've already made the biggest mistake in this game."
"W-what game?" Anna stammers, clinging onto her towel, "What mistake did I do?"
"If you're looking to fuck someone and not get attached, for the love of Christ, don't stay the night over at their place!" Belle taps her chin, "And if you're wanting to get attached, don't even start with the physical stuff until you're both ready for it."
Anna tilts her head back and stares at the ceiling lights until it burns into her eyeballs. Shit.
"Shit," Anna slaps her forehead, "I'm a fucking idiot, aren't I? I just. God. I did neither of those things right."
"Woah, chill the fuck out - it's not like you're condemned to fuckbuddy hell or anything. You can still work things out with Ms Williams if you really want to-"
"Like how?"
"Tell her what you feel. What you want from this thing - and after that, just roll the dice and play this game."
"Yea, well, that might be a little hard after I slammed the door in her face this morning."
Belle's smirk turns into a giggle, "You did, didn't you? God - you are so into her."
"Stop just - I don't even need to know this right now," Anna rakes her hair, "I still have to see her at boxing and return her clothes. Wait - her clothes!"
Anna turns and ploughs through the laundry basket, separating Elsa's clothes from her own, Belle's voice still shrieking behind her, "She lent you her clothes? This is totally some girlfriend shit!"
Her fingers quiver as she lays them on the bathroom tiles: Black track shorts, Nike T-shirt, an expensive-looking sports bra and underwear.
She quakes with the thought of laundering them clean, pressing her nose into the fabric.
Shutting her eyes as she detects the faintest hint of Elsa's scent from last night. Drifting through her memories. Unable to let it slip from her grasp.
