Anna still felt the Queen's touch all over her waist and hands when she woke. Branded with the lightest of grazes. Heat flashed through Anna's face as she recalled that chaste kiss on her cheeks goodnight. Soft Christmas music playing behind them. She would've fallen asleep in Elsa's arms if she could. Crooned and swooned by that timeless voice that spanned centuries. Her own loins throbbed with how she'd looked after herself beneath the sheets. And as she pushed herself over that crest - felt a stirring realisation that something's shifted between them. No turning around and pretending they were nothing but a science experiment.

The damp sheets lent a reminder of how she'd tried her best to sate that magnetic pull of desire towards Elsa. The afterglow of her climax soberly reminded her that Elsa wasn't a woman so easily sated from her mind. Not like any of her nameless flings that'd so gracefully left her bedroom each morning. Instead of that vacant void in her heart - Anna felt Elsa's presence. The heavy scent of chocolate in the air. Perfume. A chill in the hallway as Anna stepped out in a fluffy bathrobe. And the sight of Elsa in the snowed-in backyard that took her breath away.

White Christmas.

Blanketing the lawn in a sheet of white which stung her eyes. Elsa laid on a lawn recliner with a trail of cigarette smoke wafting from her fingertips. A copy of Yeats' The Wind Among the Reeds propped open in her other hand. Dressed in pink cotton shorts and a white camisole. Wild, dishevelled hair and puckered lips which looked like she'd just made love. It must've been thirty degrees out. The only indication Elsa felt cold were the peaks of her bosom that strained against the fabric. Anna's mouth watered. Eyes snapped to Elsa's when the Queen caught her staring. She felt like she'd just shoplifted.

"Godmorgen," Anna tried to keep the quiver from her voice, "I didn't know you smoked."

"Merry Christmas," Elsa put away the book, "you have your friend Carol to blame. Resurrecting a bad habit I forgot I had."

She sauntered closer. Sat on the recliner's edge and allowed her fingertips to brush Elsa's cinched waistline as she reached for the cigarette. A blush crept through Elsa's face. Heady spike of Nicotine reached her head in time through the fog of Elsa's bedroom eyes. She'd given up figuring out how Elsa was so immune to cold and just wanted to melt in this memory forever. Revisit it in a century or two when they'd both been eaten up by time. But the speck floating in the corner of her eye stole the moment.

"You know they're watching us, right?" Anna stubbed the cigarette out, "Some NSA operator's probably perving at a hot blonde lying in her underclothes."

Elsa tilted her head, "A hot blonde. You mean beautiful. And you mean-"

"You. Yes." Anna suddenly realised her palm had rested on Elsa's stomach. A pinkie touching the bare strip of skin between her camisole and shorts. Her heart raced when the blonde hadn't budged. "You're beautiful."

It was only when Elsa's hand closed upon hers when she realised how cold she was.

"Oh dear, you must be dreadfully cold - let's get you inside, shall we?"

The rest of the year passed in unbearable agony. That huge chasm Anna had cowered far behind all this while appeared as a frail line. Each caught gaze or brush of their fingertips now lingered longer than necessary. They no longer cooked for each other. Instead choosing to cook together. Elbows and knees bumping while they chopped vegetables and stirred pots of stew. Joking about names of farm animals labelled on packets of organic meat. Percy the Pig sounds like he'd eat anything, even leather. Agatha the game hen sounds like she'd lord over all the other hens. She'd even taken to teaching Anna the violin. Ridiculous as the prospect was. Or merely an excuse to get right behind Anna - the curve of their hips learning the other's. Fingers trailing along the mottled skin of Anna's biceps. Even if the ensuing sound nearly tore a hole in her eardrums.

They'd gone ahead and bought belated Christmas gifts for each other. NSA sponsored. Anna thought carefully and bought a leatherbound journal with imprints of Crocuses for Elsa to record thoughts about her new life. Elsa conveniently forsook the budget and threw random items into a shopping cart at Walmart. Sweaters. Scented candles. Pajamas. Marvel of American consumerism catching up to a woman who usually had to wait weeks for custom-made items.

Anna went red in the face when she sorted through her gifts and found a black lace chemise. This must be a mistake, she can't expect me to wear this around the house, can she? The blush deepened when she put it on. Her skin came alive at the brush of rough fabric. Nearly translucent. If she stood in sunlight it'd be transparent. A rush of warmth stirred in her belly and suddenly she felt brave. Enough to open the door and peek at Elsa in the kitchen. Mitts on and pulling a gorgeous-smelling lasagna from the oven. She wore a deep-blue satin nightgown never seen before. The hem cut off precariously high on her pale thighs. Hip bones prominent against the sleek fabric. Lace trim hung low against the slope of her cleavage. But before Anna could soak in anymore of the sight, Elsa turned straight to her beet-red face and called out, "Dinner's ready! Ooh, you're wearing the dress I bought!"

"Yea!"

She headed over and feigned an extraordinary sniff at the steaming baking dish. A hypothesis formed in her head. A spot in the living room she could stand in. Just the right angle between a dressing mirror and the kitchen. And through the glass she observed Elsa standing there and staring straight at her ass. Spatula dangling in her hand and that look of bewilderment dripping off her half-opened lips.

Elsa jerked away when she spun around. Warmth pooled between Anna's thighs when she realised they were both soaked deep in this limbo of attraction between them. The closeness and intimate space and heady lust hidden beneath their smiles. She knew she should be pulling back. But couldn't find the willpower to.

Together over plates of Lasagna, Anna introduced Elsa to the marvels of Google streetview. Cast onto the TV from Anna's MacBook which Elsa had started calling - "the magical fruit machine".

"Wait a minute - so you can peer at pictures of any street on earth?"

"Well not every street, some countries aren't signed up yet. But for the most part, Europe and America are onboard."

Elsa's face looked on the verge of falling off. A blob of Lasagna sat uneaten on her fork. "Any time you want. At the tip of your fingers."

Anna started scrolling through the street outside their house. It drew a gasp.

"Well, yea some photos aren't updated but for the most part it's great for planning trips."

"This is utterly marvelous."

"Seriously?" Anna exclaimed, "I've shown you Spotify and Netflix and Email and freakin' SHEIN which lets you buy whatever you want from across the world and you lose your mind over freaking streetview?"

"It's like peering into an actual crystal ball," Elsa pointed at the TV, "show me your home!"

The request thudded in her chest like a lead weight. "Uh, sure."

It took a few seconds to recall her home address. The red brick townhouse that represented a dark, cold void in her memory. Instead of lingering there, she showed Elsa all the places in her childhood neighbourhood. The park where she got caught smoking for the first time. A Walmart she shoplifted from. Screaming "What?" when she found her old graffiti of a cartoon duck flipping the bird, whitewashed off the community centre wall.

"Oh, I didn't peg you for a naughty girl," Elsa covered her mouth and sniggered, "either you turned a corner or I'm just deceived by your looks."

"Hah!" Anna threw back a laugh so hard that tomato sauce dribbled down her chin. She got up and walked to the kitchen for paper towels. Returning to the harrowing sight of Elsa pecking away at the keyboard without her permission.

"No, no, no, wait!" Anna cried out, "I'm not allowed to let you do that!"

"Do what?" Elsa peered closely at the keyboard in search of a letter, "Commandeer your magical fruit machine?"

Before she could wrest control away from Elsa, she'd already hit enter. Elsa had typed something into the search bar instead of Google streetview. And promptly clicked the first result it threw up. The very first memory at the forefront of her mind for the past six months.

Norway Fjords.

A Youtube page opened. The sight froze Anna in her tracks. 4K Drone Cam footage of the Geirangerfjord. Wind and waves and the majesty of craggy cliffs soaring into eternity. The scenery stole Elsa's breath away - unspoken longing dangling from her parted lips. Birds fluttered past, specks of grey and white amidst the shifting clouds. For the first time in half a year, doubt crept into Anna's conscience. Each trip they took through nature was merely a thread that tied her back to Norway. Arendelle. The home where Elsa belonged and one day sought to return. All at once the realization that she would undoubtedly lose Elsa weighed heavy on her head.

"It's beautiful, you have to bring me there one day," Anna fought off that ache in her chest, "I'm sure the NSA will allow international travel."

"We could picnic by the shores. Fish in the river and drink tea by the flaskful."

"With the wind in our hair."

"And the sun on our backs."

It was Anna's turn to smile. Already the idea of getting a million miles away from this secret project and surveillance and endless, nagging reports lit a flicker in her heart. She looked over at Elsa, eyes closed as she let the sound of crashing waves whisk her away. She felt the tears coming. The quiver in her lips at letting her go.

"Y-you want to go home, don't you?" Anna whispered, sitting next to her.

Elsa opened her eyes, before she curled into the crevice of Anna's neck. Relishing in the throbbing pulse that quickened with each second they spent in this unfulfilled memory.

"I'm already home," Elsa smiled against the warmth of Anna's breath, "home is wherever my heart happens to be."