"My life is a huge mess."

The sudden admission stops Dr. Robinson's scribbling. She looks at Anna. Red hair peeking through her fingers as she slumps forward. Considering whether to reach for the tissues before deciding not to.

"If I were any other person," Robinson pokes her own chin with the pen, "I'd tell you how lucky you are to be at this college. The remnants of your past are behind you. I've seen the news and given the notoriety of your father's reputation and crimes, it's unlikely he'd be released from custody any time soon. In fact, he'd likely be returned to California to finish serving his state sentence first."

Anna looks up at her, but otherwise remains silent.

"Hence, I'd like to explore the issues surrounding why you continue to experience these emotions-"

"I'm still afraid," Anna admits, before her hands flex tight, "but I keep telling myself what you've told me. That it's alright to be afraid. The fear is the source of courage, and at the very least if it doesn't paralyse me, I'll come out a little stronger. Which is why I've signed up for a fight-"

Robinson cuts her off, "You signed up for a fight?"

"Well, I didn't - my coach did," Anna huffs a fluttering fringe.

"Are you afraid?"

"Terrified," Anna purses her lips, "No idea who it's going to be or what the rules are, but I guess I'll just roll with it and take whatever gets thrown my way. At the worst case I'll get flattened on the canvas but I've experienced that before, haven't I?"

"Very courageous, Ms Miller," Robinson scribbles somemore, "Is there anything else you're afraid of at the present moment?"

Anna looks down at the carpet and tries to steer clear of that elephant in her brain. As much as she tries to dodge its mammoth proportions, the beast balloons with each passing moment and chokes her thinking space. Just like her every waking moment since that night. Elsa. Elsa. Elsa. That gentle voice haunts her dreams. Blue eyes distract her from chemistry lectures. And yet, she finds it impossible to venture even a side-eye at the blonde as she makes a spectacle out of ignoring her at boxing. Not even a passing glance. Flirting (or just talking, god) with Esmeralda and Kristoff. She'd imagined returning the clothes would shed the shadow of Elsa's touch from her skin. The taste of her breath. All it does is make her long more. The little bag still sits in her apartment.

"I slept with Elsa."

Robinson flips a page in her notes, "That girl you were crushing on? Great! What happened?"

"She asked me out, we drank a bit, and boom, it happened - and…I'm afraid," Anna goes red in the face, "and now I'm afraid she doesn't want to talk to me anymore. She refused to give me her number and it's just all weird between us and I don't know what to make of it-"

Anna buries her head in her hands again. Robinson's scribbling fills in the silence for an uncomfortable amount of time before she speaks again.

"This is a huge development, and frankly, I was rooting for you. Elsa seems like a nice girl," Robinson adds, "Why do you think you're feeling this way?"

"I don't have to think, doctor. This I'm sure of. I feel used, even if I did enjoy myself. I genuinely admired her. And maybe I'm selfish but there was always this part of me that wanted something more with her, to know beyond that icy exterior-"

"You're very honest with your feelings, Anna - and I'm deeply appreciative of you sharing," Robinson points her pen, "have you considered things from her perspective?"

The suggestion cuffs her offguard. Anna sits upright. Eyes wide open as she muses.

"N-no I haven't," Anna grips her jeans, "she's so quiet, I've no idea what she's thinking of-"

"Consider the possibility," Robinson suggests, "that Elsa could be just as afraid as you are."


Two weeks out. The miles start racking into the double digits. She finishes her assignments in school just so she'd be able to train for hours at night. Slogging at the bags she'd started giving names to. Kristoff's taken a liking to punching her in the stomach just so 'she'd know how it feels like'. Bastard, Anna thinks, I'm already all-too-familiar with pain. She looks over at the source of hers. Blonde braid coiled into a bun as she lands a nasty hook on Zangief's head.

Thwack.

The pad catches her in the eyebrow and she sees stars.

"Concentrate!" Kristoff snarls at her, "What is up with you two?"

Nothing.

Which means everything.

She winds up sparring with Shang. In a gym full of mirrors, it's impossible to find an angle where she can't see Elsa. Shang ends up kicking her ass. Leaving her with bruises atop barely healed ones from last week. By the time training's over, she examines her face in the mirror, and wonders if there're more bruises than freckles. Elsa's faint voice catches her attention. She turns and sees Esmeralda bumping fists with her. Smiles all around as they depart together. All at once the throbbing in her face crackles into a lurching ache in the deepest pit of her chest.

The moon's out when she leaves. Casting a single ray of its full light on the solitary blonde figure seated on a bench. Right on the path back to dorm. You're in my way, woman. Esmeralda's nowhere to be seen. Elsa's tapping on her phone, probably texting some other girl for a booty call just so she can leave them in the fucking lurch like she always does.

Oh shut it, you - just walk past her. Grin and wave. Ok, maybe lose the waving.

All hope of that vanishes the instant Elsa notices. Putting away her phone and crossing her legs.

"Uh, hi," all the words scramble in Anna's brain. She pauses, before retrieving a Trader Joe's canvas bag of folded clothes.

"I meant to return you this," Anna says, dropping the parcel into Elsa's lap, "thanks for lending me your clothes. And, um, I'm sorry for taking so long? If it matters-"

Elsa looks down at her lap. Silence. And the redhead takes it as her cue to leave.

"Hey."

That frail syllable drifts through the still air and tugs at her heartstrings. It's enough to crumble her resolve. Enough to make her want to give in. Enough to turn around and see Elsa patting the space next to her. Don't. This bitch used you. Dr. Robinson's words float back to her: Elsa could be just as afraid as you are. She focuses on the apprehension written on her face, and ponders how much courage the blonde needs to make this tiny gesture.

Her body aches with exhaustion. She should be sleeping. But she relents. Sitting next to Elsa while silence burns what's left of that bridge between them. But before it collapses entirely - Anna remembers one tiny little action clinging onto her. She stretches out her right pinkie, inhaling slowly and resting it on Elsa's knee. The hitch in Elsa's breath sounds potently audible.

And so is hers when Elsa closes a hand on top. Their fingers lace together. She wants to let go. To yank away her hand and slap this bitch across her face. But she turns and sees Elsa biting on her lip. The tremble in them. In the fingers clasped within hers. Courage.

"I think we got off on the wrong foot," Elsa finally whispers. Her voice even more gentle and frail - like a part of her broke after two weeks and had never been put back.

"Heh," Anna huffs, "you think?"

"I'm sure," Elsa sighs, "and I owe you an apology for the way I spoke to you."

The slightest recollection of slamming the door hurls through her memories. She pulls her hand from Elsa's, but finds them so hopelessly intertwined within the strength of her grasp. Instead of fighting it, Anna just dangles her limp wrist.

"You're so not forgiven," Anna growls, wishing she could take back her words, "unless you can freaking tell me right now that everything you said was a lie."

"I wasn't lying," Elsa's voice rises, "especially the fact that you'd probably ruin me-"

Anna huffs, wanting to fold her arms but not wanting to let go of Elsa at the same time. Ending with a free hand beneath her elbow. The lights at the sports center go out.

"Anna, I'm - I'm deeply, deeply attracted to you-"

Her heart swells. But that trail in her voice laces the giddy, bursting joy with hurt.

"-but at the same time, I don't know if we'd be awful for one another."

Just like that, her heart implodes like a supernova collapsing into a black hole. Dark and festering. She glares straight at Elsa a split second before a far-off voice cuts them off.

"Yoohoo, tortolitos!" Esmeralda's shadowy figure emerges from the distance.

Anna yanks her hand out of Elsa's. Leaping to her feet and resisting the urge to lash out at her.

"Oh yea? Maybe you can tell me when you've made up your mind."

She turns away and walks off. Not wanting to stick around to hear Elsa repeat the same lies to Esmeralda. Or have anything else to do with this Ice Bitch.