Author's Notes: So I've just realised I haven't done a proper author's notes for this story.

To answer everyone's favourite asked and unasked question on this website, ATYA will be updated roughly every month. I did mention that the plot has already been sketched out and written, along with the bulk of the dialogue, but my writing process means that chapters still need to be refined. Basically, I break stuff into chapter-sized pieces. A lot of editing, writing, and rewriting goes on in this stage since I wrote everything feverishly (NaNoWriMo, yo) and it's nowhere near good enough to post.

There's also a lot to research. If you've read my other works, you'll know I am a stickler for accuracy (but also equally prone to bending said accuracy to my will when needed). After I'm done with the chapter, my excellent beta mach5goh checks the wheelchair parts to make sure I'm not making any glaring mistakes.

And after she's done with the chapter, I do a final round of editing. In short, it's a long process (wow, see what I did there).

Oh, look, I've written an essay in what was supposed to be the notes.

Finally, reviews. I don't usually respond to each and every review/question, but they are all very much appreciated. Thanks to everyone for reading and liking this story, and I hope you'll continue to enjoy it as much as I enjoy writing it.

I can be found on Tumblr and AO3 under the same name (through a quick Google search, since FF doesn't allow outside links).

The thawing snow was met with excitement, initially, on Anna's part.

She found she could do with one less sweater, and that everything glimmered with melting snow. For the first time in months she could go out without layering herself in clothes, the figurative icing on a grumpy cake. She could start to enjoy the warmth of the sun on as much skin as possible, after what felt like an eternity.

It hit her, as she was brewing Elsa's coffee, that there wasn't a need for her neighbor to drive her to school anymore, and it bothered her more than she had expected.

She would miss it, all of the little things; the luxury of private transport, fiddling with the radio, not having to wake up any earlier than absolutely necessary. Most of all, she would lose her time with Elsa – not that the blonde woman was being as aloof as she had been initially. But she was still reticent and shy. Anna got the feeling that it would be harder to coax Elsa out of her shell if there wasn't a legitimate reason for her company – apart, of course, the simple enjoyment of her company. She pouted. Trust her to want to befriend the shyest person on the planet.

Anna reached for a piece of chocolate from her stash. This was an emergency that necessitated serious brain power, and thus sugar. She popped it into her mouth, chewing slowly, brow furrowed in concentration.

"How are you this week, Elsa?"

Elsa chewed on her lower lip. "Good, I suppose. Compared to usually."

"What do you mean by usually?"

"My usual routine." Her fingers twisted together in her lap. "I go to work. I do my exercises when I need to. I write." Elsa left out the copious amount of takeout she consumed, feeling like a guilty schoolgirl.

"Do you keep in touch with your friends?"

"Not keeping in touch with friends from school per se… I met a guy. We've gone out a few times."

Gerda nodded. Her expression remained unchanged. "A few times? Do you enjoy spending time with him?"

"It's – not unpleasant," said Elsa carefully, and then blushed. "I didn't mean to say that. It's nice. Hans is funny and interesting to talk to. I guess – yes, I do like spending time with him." The word friend lingered on the tip of her tongue; it felt strange to use it, so she didn't.

The therapist hid a smile. "I'm not insinuating anything."

"I – yes, I know." Sometimes, Elsa hated that she was so fair. Her blush was annoyingly noticeable.

"Apart from Hans, is there anyone you talk to?"

"There's An – my neighbor." There followed a lengthy pause. "That neighbor."

"Ah," said Gerda, nodding understandingly, "the one we discussed."

"Yes."

"So you talk to her regularly?"

Elsa nodded. "You could say that. We've spent quite a bit of time together – I've been driving her to school this winter because it's too cold for her to be outside. We've had dinner a couple of times." Elsa's eyes darted up and away.

"Oh? That sounds nice."

Elsa considered it. "… Yeah, it is," she admitted, darting a shy glance at Gerda. The therapist smiled at the brief eye contact.

"Do you talk a lot?"

"Not as much as with Hans."

"That's perfectly fine, Elsa," said the therapist reassuringly. "Sometimes just spending time with a person is enough. From what I've heard of your neighbor, I get the feeling she's the talkative type."

The younger woman smiled. "She is."

"You seem like you don't find it uncomfortable," observed Gerda.

"… I don't. Strange as it feels. I just… Anna always looks so happy when she's talking about something, and then it turns into a monologue. I – I don't really feel like I can get a word in, and I don't want to. It's… nice, listening to her talk when she gets excited about the subject." Elsa couldn't help the fond smile that blossomed at the memory. "I don't feel pressured to listen and join in."

"Do you enjoy spending time with her, then?"

"I guess so. Yes."

"You look happy," said the therapist, and Elsa dropped her gaze shyly. "Is it different from spending time with Hans?"

"In a way."

"Do you mind elaborating?"

Surprisingly, Elsa didn't. She felt more comfortable talking about them like this in the abstract, without having to deal with the uncomfortable feelings that Anna usually evoked. "N-not really. With Hans, he – the conversation's more equal. He waits for me to say things, to respond. But it's the same – as in, I don't feel pressured either. Same and different, if that makes sense. I already told you how it's like with Anna."

"But you enjoy both dynamics."

"Both are interesting in their own ways, because it's two different people," answered Elsa.

"Is it a stretch to say you interact with them differently as a result?"

"I'm not really myself with Anna," confessed Elsa. "I – you know – have to be careful with what I say to her. Hans doesn't really know me, so I don't have to be as guarded."

"I understand. I only want to know what you're feeling."

She nodded slowly, not entirely convinced. Gerda seemed to sense her thoughts and changed the subject. "We can always return to the topic later."

"Okay."

"I'd just like to say that I think that it's good you're spending time with Hans and – your neighbor. You're smiling more."

Completely caught off-guard, Elsa nodded, even managing a small smile.

They spent the rest of the session making small talk, and Elsa was glad to be done for the week. She got into her car and checked the time; she had only taken the morning off but she didn't need to rush back to the office. As much as she tried not to, Elsa's thoughts kept going back to Anna. Even if they barely talked during the car rides, the nervousness she felt was beginning to ebb away, replaced with –

– well, she wasn't quite sure how to describe it, the feeling being only noticeable in its absence.

She tried organizing her thoughts. Her anxiety meant that things and emotions were likely to spiral out of control if she didn't limit them to solid facts.

Fact: Anna wasn't just her neighbor.

They were friends, or as much as a few meals together and carpooling entailed. If she wanted to be absolutely clinical, there were genuine moments of bonding as well.

Fact: Anna doesn't know the truth about her.

Definitely not, judging from the way the redhead treated her like everything was normal, and Elsa was worth becoming friends with. Elsa clamped down hard on the wave of guilt rising.

Fact: She enjoyed spending time with Anna.

If Elsa pushed aside all the hopelessly jumbled feelings that arose from the accident, she could honestly say that Anna was smart, funny, and unbearably nice. She was outgoing but not pushy. She seemed to sense the walls Elsa had built around herself, and accepted them. Elsa even found Anna's tendency to ramble charming, which she supposed was a good thing.

Her ringing phone brought her out of her thoughts. "Hello?"

"Hello, Elsa. Is this a good time to talk?"

"Yes, what is it, Olaf?"

"It's been a month since Miss Iversen moved in."

It took her a few moments to remember why that was significant. "O-oh. Right."

"Have you made a decision yet?" he asked gently.

Elsa chewed on her bottom lip, hands suddenly cold and clammy. "… I have. I've – I'll stay."

"… Alright then."

The young woman was left staring dumbly at her phone long after Olaf had said his goodbyes and ended the call. Her mind was still reeling.

Fact: She doesn't want to distance herself from Anna.

This was an annoying, yet inevitable conclusion, given her tendency to make irrational decisions to spend more time around her. Elsa sighed and turned the key in the ignition, beginning the drive back to her office.

Kristoff, being a typical college student, had his fair share of typical college student problems. He was having trouble keeping up with his advanced calculus class. He couldn't get the cute girl who lived across his quad to notice him. He was barely staying afloat funds-wise, and his fridge was emptier than he'd like it to be.

And then there were the less typical problems.

He was sorta-but-not-really responsible for his wheelchair-bound younger sister (though he knew Anna would kill him if she ever knew). And the person responsible for the accident that put her there was the young woman who lived opposite her – also the same young woman his sister was attempting to befriend. Naturally, Anna would kill him if she knew he was not only aware of the connection, but that he was also actively keeping his knowledge from her.

He groaned softly, feeling a major headache coming on. The situation required more maturity than he was willing to reveal he possessed.

He knew Elsa. He'd been there when his parents and her father had talked about the adoption arrangements. He was vaguely aware that Elsa continued to support Anna (secretly) with a monthly check that made life a bit easier for her; his parents did their best, but many handicapable improvements came with a hefty price tag.

Kristoff knew that Elsa wasn't really a bad person, just a scared young woman who had made the biggest mistake of her life and was prepared to spend the rest of it making amends, even if he wasn't personally sure about the means she went about it. Though it wasn't really his place, Kristoff was also concerned about Anna's interest in pursuing a friendship with Elsa, for the reasons previously laid out.

The tattered paperback fell from his slack grip and Kristoff remembered he was supposed to be reading. Scanning the paragraph, he realized he had read it twice and it hadn't yet sank in, so he called it a day. The book went back into his bag.

Kristoff was really hoping he didn't have to pull the overprotective-big-brother card and confront Elsa. She was okay, he supposed – unless she was going to string Anna along, intentionally or otherwise.

The young man really, really hoped things wouldn't reach that stage.

The last time Anna and Olaf had talked, the conversation hadn't gone very well. Anna had the good grace to look embarrassed when the social worker walked in.

"Hi."

He beamed at her. "Hello, Anna."

"I, uh…" She twisted the sheets covering her legs. "I wanted to apologise for what I said the other day."

"Apology accepted," he said very seriously, "but only on the condition that you accept mine as well."

"Fine, but I don't really see why. You're only doing your job – annoying as it can be sometimes." The last part was said under her breath, but Anna had the sneaking suspicion Olaf heard it anyway.

He reached into his satchel and pulled out a pile of papers. "I'm afraid my visit today is horribly boring; some paperwork to fill in for the private tutor. The state needs to make sure you fulfill their educational requirements, and you might need to sit for the state exams as a private candidate if you want to go to college – "

"Olaf?"

"Yes, Anna?"

"What if – is it too late for me to change my mind?" She was looking everywhere but directly at him, and Carrot-Nose was now in her hands, being twisted out of shape.

"That depends on what you have in mind," he said gently.

"I'd like to go back to school. Not my old one. Just – somewhere I can start over." Anna couldn't bear the thought of returning to a place where everyone remembered the athletic girl and felt sorry for the one in the wheelchair. "It's already – I'm different enough as it is."

"I understand." Olaf's quiet voice cut through the rambling explanation in her mind. He put the papers away. "I'll talk to your benefactor, and then if they agree, we can look for schools together?"

Anna nodded, mumbling her thanks.

"You finally showed up!" said Eugene happily. Rapunzel smacked the back of his head and he grunted in pain. "Ow! And what was that for?"

"If you still need me to explain it by now…"

Anna hugged them both in turn. "Hey, guys. It's good to see you. Sorry I've been busy."

"Don't be. We know how it gets." Rapunzel shot a filthy look at Eugene from over Anna's shoulder. "Don't we, Eugene?"

There was a moment as they locked eyes over Anna's shoulder. Eugene looked away first. "Yeah, yeah, whatever Blondie." But he was smiling as he took a sip of his beer. Rapunzel rolled her eyes at him. "Or at least, if you actually attended your classes."

"I have better things to do with my time."

"Like petty theft."

He pressed a hand to his chest in mock hurt. "Blondie, you wound me! I've done my time in juvie, thank you very much, and am currently an upstanding model citizen."

She giggled. "If you put as much effort into school as you do in protesting your innocence, you'd be valedictorian." But Rapunzel leaned over the table to ruffle his hair affectionately, addressing Anna and Kristoff: "By the way, I've got big news for you guys."

Kristoff almost choked on his cider. "You're not eloping, are you?"

"No! Well, I'm sure Mother will grow to like Eugene one day, but – that's not my news." Rapunzel grinned at Anna as Eugene spluttered in the background. "Guess whose transfer got approved."

A beat. Anna gaped at her. "No way."

"Yes way! I'm starting at Arendelle U next week."

"That's wonderful! Now come over here, Punzie, so I can hug you properly," demanded Anna.

Kristoff joined in the hug. "Wow. Congrats. Now we can have two arts majors geeking out about their classes."

"I do not geek out!"

"I hate to break the bad news to you, but…"

Anna made a scandalized sound. "I hate you."

"Mmhmm. So you say."

She had called Phil out on his behavior – there were several choice words she had in mind but wasn't allowed to use – and as a result, physical sessions were easier.

Well, the man was still abrasive. He still belittled her efforts. He constantly insisted that various members of his family of advanced age could outperform her in their sleep. But Anna had learned to tune him out and focus on what really mattered; reclaiming her body. The stronger she grew, the more confident she was controlling her wheelchair.

The realities of her new life took some adjusting to. There were medication regimes; some that were for the duration of her hospital stay, and others she struggled with accepting they were going to be a permanent part of her life.

There were new things she had never thought of, but were now a major concern; pressure ulcers, for one. For the moment she was lucky to be splitting her time evenly between her bed and her chair, but she had been warned that she had to be careful when spending a lot more time in one place.

Phil's sessions were only for rebuilding her strength. There were classes where Anna learned how to live with a wheelchair. She had to learn how to get in and out of cars – things she had taken for granted. She learned about the things she could and couldn't do with and in a wheelchair.

"At least you get to sit down the entire time, and your legs are still there," Hiccup grumbled when she told him about her classes. "My real foot aches all the time, and let's not mention my fake foot. Ever heard of phantom limb pain?"

Anna hadn't, and winced appropriately when he'd explained. "It's alright, really, all things considered," he added. "I still get to go out and do stuff. That makes it all worth it."

"I honestly don't see how I'm much better off than you. I'll always be shorter than 95% of the general population, and these are just for show," she said, patting her thighs.

Hiccup snorted. He had become a regular fixture in Anna's room, his plush dragon often in tow. Currently, they were both sprawled over Anna's bed, her legs carefully arranged on a pillow."I'm a good boy, I finish my homework before I go out," he had said, in response to her teasing digs at his womanizing ways.

"Yes, but what about my homework?"

He glanced carelessly at the papers strewn over her bed. "Not my fault you procrastinate. Otherwise you could be out socializing with people your height."

Anna barked a scandalized laugh, picking up Toothless and tossing it at him.

"I can't help but notice you resort to throwing things when you lose an argument," remarked Hiccup, quirking an eyebrow. "It's like reverting to some primal instinct."

"I'll show you primal instinct, you goober." She dragged herself across the bed, managing to tangle her fingers in his hair and rubbing her knuckles into his scalp while he yelped in outrage.

Anna didn't bring up the fact he'd waited for her to catch him.

Anna really, really should have been working. She had several idea proposals that needed to be submitted to the client by the end of the week, and she was precisely…

… zero percent complete.

She blew a gusty sigh, sinking her chin into one hand. The blank canvas stared mockingly back at her. Her head ached dully, a souvenir from last night's drunken revelry.

Well, Eugene and Kristoff had been doing most of the drinking. Rapunzel had been distracted by the karaoke machine in the corner of the bar and was single-handedly responsible for the revelry. Anna herself had only downed a few ciders before calling it a night but had to wait for Rapunzel to collar the boys and drive them all home.

It, however, didn't help her idea generation in the slightest. While it wasn't uncommon to be out of ideas, she had had three weeks to work on them. But she hadn't had a single flash of inspiration come to her over those three weeks.

Well, she wouldn't be in such a pickle if she hadn't spent so much time mooning over Elsa.

A flush came to Anna's cheeks. She really hadn't meant to blurt that out to Kristoff, of all people.

Even if it wasn't completely true.

She had enough going on in her life at the moment, and at this particular point in time, the company of the reticent blonde was enough for her. Anna didn't want to jeopardize it in any way. Elsa reminded her of a skittish woodland animal; easily spooked, and liable to flee. A friendship was the end goal, of course – and if there were other possible outcomes, Anna wasn't ruling them out. She was using the phrase possible outcomes in the loosest sense of the words. One of the worst things she could do (and had done, many times before) was falling for a straight woman because nothing hurt quite as much as unrequited feelings.

No – scratch unrequited feelings. There was no such thing happening. Yet.

Her jaunt into dangerous territory gave her an idea, though. She was supposed to be designing covers for the client's novels, wasn't she? The publisher had been nice enough to give her a set of the older editions as a little bonus. Anna decided to flip to a random page, read a few paragraphs, and see if that got her anywhere.

Elsa had always been hyper-sensitive around Anna, careful not to give herself away. It extended to watching Anna's mood, so it was impossible not to notice how sullen the redhead was being as she tucked herself into the car seat.

The blonde grew more worried when she started the drive out of the carpark and Anna didn't move to adjust the radio as she usually did.

"It's gonna be spring soon," said Anna into the silence.

"Yes."

"You won't need to drive me to school once the roads clear," she said with a laugh. It came out rather forced. "Well, it wasn't a permanent thing anyway."

And now Elsa was torn. It would be so easy to offer to continue driving Anna. After all, they were friends now – as much as time spent together meant – and it was something friends would do. It certainly felt like Anna was waiting for her to offer, because it would be too impolite of her to ask. Her grip on the steering wheel tightened as the internal battle raged.

After the pause had stretched for too long, Anna added: "But I guess I shouldn't keep imposing on you. The bus is good enough, they've got the ramp for my chair and everything." She grinned at Elsa.

Curse the lump in her throat. It was nearly impossible to get any sound out around it.

"We can still meet up once in a while to have dinner, right? Or I could cook. That is, if you didn't mind my cooking the last time." This was followed by a self-deprecating laugh that made Elsa squirm in her seat.

"Anna – "

"Hmmm?"

Deep breath. Remember how to talk. "I, um, didn't mind driving you."

"Oh."

"It's no trouble for me at all if we, ah, continue this arrangement. That is, if you, um, don't mind hitching a ride with me, that is." Elsa could have sworn she was more eloquent than an average toddler. "I mean – I'm going to miss your coffee."

Anna was staring at her, and it was a good thing they had stopped for a red light, because it was hard to concentrate under the younger girl's scrutiny. "T-thanks," she stammered. "I'd be happy to make you coffee anytime you want, really."

"O-oh?" It was almost funny, really, how Anna's deliberately casual speech had devolved into verbal fumbling as bad as Elsa's, but the blonde was in no mood to laugh. "That's – it's nice."

"Yeah, totally." Then Anna was beaming, the tension sloughing from her shoulders, practically vibrating in excitement in the car seat. "You're the best, Elsa, honestly! You've got to let me treat you to dinner or something or – what's your favourite food? I could cook it, and I swear I'll do it justice, not like those dumb romance movies where the girl screws up the guy's favourite food or something…"

Elsa snapped back to the real world when the light changed to green, and thankfully she just needed to pull into the driveway of the art building because she was having a hard time keeping her heart from beating out of her chest. The awkward atmosphere had dissipated like it had never been there in the first place. The blonde couldn't help but crack a small smile when faced with Anna's joy.

"No, wait, I'm confused." Anna furrowed her brow. "Did we agree that you're still driving me to school, or coffee dates?" A furious blush followed the last word, but she didn't say anything further.

"Driving," said Elsa firmly.

"Okay. Thanks for doing this."

"Don't mention it."

Now that Anna was halfway through her rehabilitation program, she was given more freedom to move around the hospital. Part of the reason was to let her practice maneuvering with her chair, but mostly it was because she had informed Olaf that she would not be held responsible for battering Phil to death with her dumbbells if she had to put herself through his insane motivational techniques any more than strictly necessary.

Her upper arm strength, already prodigious before the accident, was truly impressive now. She often raced Hiccup on his running prosthetic through the corridors, making a menace of themselves.

Anna rounded a corner on two wheels – a feat that made Hiccup swear under his breath – and hit the brakes, skidding to a neat stop. She held her breath as the chair teetered dangerously, grinning as it remained upright. "I win – again," she said breathlessly as he came into view.

"Four wheels," he grumbled. "One leg and a half," Hiccup added, pointing down at himself.

"You can hop over obstacles," she pointed out. "I have to maneuver fast or else leave a trail of roadkill."

"That'll be a good skill during lunchtime."

Anna snickered. "Why do you think we're practicing now? If I'm gonna be the girl in a wheelchair, I'm damn well going to be the badass girl in the wheelchair. Look out, high school."

"Fair enough. I need a cool nickname though, Blade Runner's already taken."

"Is Long John Silver too lame?"

"Definitely too lame."

"Not if you Velcroed Toothless to your shoulder. Quirky but still cool."

"... Are you sure you want to go to high school? You'd be the bottom of the food chain, you dork."

A week passed without incident. Apart from their morning car rides, Elsa actually saw very little of Anna without actively avoiding her. She was home at varying times of day (depending on how much of a pain her colleagues and/or clients were being) but the lights in Anna's apartment were off every time she passed by. She should have been relieved, but instead she found herself growing uneasy. At the very least their paths would have crossed once or twice. Anna didn't look like the sort to be attending wild student parties.

At times like this, Elsa really hated the fact that she wrote crime novels because her brain wouldn't stop coming up with creative and criminally-inclined scenarios.

Get a grip on yourself, she thought. It's bad enough that you have enough anxiety issues of your own to be dealing with, let alone someone else's.

Elsa was supposed to be meeting Hans for dinner later, and had stopped at home to shower and change first. She checked her phone and was surprised to find there was a new text message from Anna; she couldn't remember when she had recorded her number, but opened the message anyway.

hi elsa anna here was just wondering if ur home?

As a matter of fact, she was – having no life outside of work did that to one's schedule. Elsa's fingers hovered over the phone keyboard. She'd already made one snap decision. She might as well make another.

Yes, I am. Why?

tell u irl. wanna come over? doors not locked. it wont be long srry

"Sorry to make you drop by on short notice," said Anna sheepishly after Elsa knocked and let herself in. "I have a really, really big favour to ask of you, and – okay, I'm lazy to type on the phone."

"I see," said Elsa.

Anna waved a letter at the blonde – being almost two feet shorter than Elsa, the edge of the paper almost caught Elsa's chin in what would have been a nasty paper cut if she hadn't jerked her face away. "Look!"

"Calm down and let me see." She recognized the elegant letterhead as belonging to Anna's college.

"I got in!" squealed Anna, interrupting her reading.

"The Arendelle University Art showcase?" asked Elsa, scanning the text quickly and confirming the fact.

"Only the fanciest student art show in town!" Anna's enthusiasm was infectious, and Elsa found herself smiling as the redhead started to circle her, talking at top speed. "It's this thing where students get to display their best pieces. Usually only senior students get invited to participate, but the dean liked the stuff I've been doing so – " She cut herself off with a delighted shriek.

Elsa smiled. "Really? That's amazing, Anna; congratulations."

"I can't believe this is happening!" Anna paused, excitement morphing into shock; she clapped both hands to her face. "I can't believe this is happening. This is a dream, isn't it? There's a chocolate fountain and eternal marshmallows, and any second now I'm going to wake up." Anna began pinching herself vigorously.

"This letter feels real enough," said Elsa.

"You could be a figment of my imagination right now!"

Elsa shook her head fondly. "Would you like me to pinch you?"

"Yes please, dream Elsa, my pinches aren't working for some reason. Ow! Not so hard! Okay, I'm not waking up, this is really happening."

The blonde bent over, placing her hands on Anna's shoulders. "It's really happening. Congratulations, Anna, you did a great job."

Anna's grin widened a fraction. "Actually, that's not all I wanted to talk to you about."

"Oh?"

"I can bring guests, so… I was wondering if you'd like to come? I understand if you'll be busy, but I'd love it if you'd come. You've dropped me off at school so many times already, I should at least show you around the place? Give you the grand tour, if you want. You could see the other artworks – not mine, I think I'd die of embarrassment, I'm sure they're horrid – "

"Anna, you're rambling again," said Elsa, "and yes, I'd love to come."

Anna's mouth, half-open as she stopped mid-sentence, snapped shut again, and she flushed pink with delight. "I – um. Okay, that's really great!"

"It's on the last Saturday of next month, if I'm not wrong," said Elsa, recalling the letter's contents. Anna nodded.

"I'll text you the details closer to the date, 'kay?"

"That sounds fine." She checked her watch. "I'm sorry to leave so abruptly, but I have to go."

"Oh. Sure thing." Anna saw her to the front door, wheeling herself with long, languid strokes. "Dinner date?"

Elsa found herself blushing. "Just dinner with a friend." She wondered why she felt the need to emphasize the fact.

Anna's smile never faltered. "Oh, sure. Have fun!"

Anna was early for study class, uncharacteristically so. She found her usual spot by the window, taking her supplies out from her bag. Canvases had already been set up on their easels for the students, Anna's set comfortably low to accommodate her chair. Her professor came a few minutes after, arching an eyebrow when she saw there was a student in the room already.

"You're early today, Anna," she said in crisp British-accented tones.

Anna looked up from her book. "Oh, hi Jane."

"Reading a book too? An actual physical copy? Such a relief to know the old ways persist."

The redhead grinned. "Just because you never learned to use a smartphone…"

"Oh, posh, make fun of a relic, would you? I'd have you know that you're talking with a professor and your grade is at stake." She was smiling, though. "We won't wait too long, there's a few things I have for you lot today, and time is tight as it is." Jane nodded at the stack of canvases to the side.

"… That sounds bad."

Jane chuckled. "Bad? Nothing of that sort. Bad would be going out to sketch in the jungle and then finding yourself pursued by a horde of baboons."

Anna blinked.

"Anyway, a little birdie told me you were invited to display at the Showcase?"

"Oh, yeah. It's a big deal. I'm really excited, but I've got nothing to show."

"You wouldn't've been invited if that were true," said Jane dryly. Anna grinned sheepishly.

"I'm my biggest critic."

"As it should be."

A few more students had drifted in as they spoke. Some nodded at Anna, others were preoccupied with their phones. The professor tutted at that and excused herself to bustle off and prepare for the lesson.

Rapunzel was one of the last to enter the room. She practically bounced over to the still-vacant easel beside Anna.

"Today has been the best day ever," pronounced the brunette. "I love school."

Anna grinned. "Trust you to be the only student on the planet to actually enjoy classes."

"It's not work if you enjoy doing it," said Rapunzel primly.

From the front of the room, Jane cleared her throat, bringing everyone's attention to her. "We're working on figure sketches today," she said, nodding at the slim young man beside her. "You'll have thirty minutes per pose, three poses today. Feel free to use any medium you like, but you'll need to hand in your work at the end of the class." The model – a slim young man – climbed on the dais and adopted a simple pose. "Your first thirty minutes starts now," said Jane.

Anna selected a hard pencil, blocking out the main shapes with quick, deft strokes. Though her hand moved across the canvas and her eye darted in between model and artwork, her mind was elsewhere.

Making the art show was a huge honour. There was a lot of work to be done – selecting the pieces to go on display, writing up the piece descriptions – but all that paled in comparison to her guest.

She'd asked Elsa to attend her art show, and the blonde had said yes.

Her sketch was looking poorly, the limbs of the figure awkward. She frowned, rounding off the edges carefully, using her finger to soften the shadows.

She hadn't been completely honest with Jane. There were a few works she was proud of, along with a new series of pieces she felt there was potential in, but if Anna were to categorize her portfolio according to the works she would want Elsa to see…

… long story short, there was a lot of work to do.

Oh, and she had the second drafts of her client's book covers to finish as well. At least they had liked her first drafts.

Anna scowled. The sketch she was working on acquired rather harsh shadows.

"Time!" called Jane. Anna squinted, eyeing her work critically, and sighed. The model stretched and yawned.

"Replace your canvases, and we'll begin again in five."

Rapunzel leaned over to look at Anna's work. "I like the way you draw shadows," offered the brunette.

"That's just your way of finding something nice to say about a crappy piece," said Anna gloomily.

"Oh, come on. It's not that bad."

Anna glanced over at Rapunzel's work; the model was replicated in intricate hyper-realistic graphite lines, fine cross-hatching giving the impression of volume. "Says you, Michelangelo."

Rapunzel shrugged. "This is just a rough sketch."

Anna snorted.

"If you're stressing out about the Showcase," said Rapunzel as she replaced Anna's and her canvases, "you shouldn't be. I've seen your portfolio and the stuff you did last semester. You've got plenty of stuff to choose from."

"It's not really the Showcase." Anna's attention was divided between the conversation and her work. Instead of continuing with her pencil, she was using softer charcoal instead. Briefly, she wondered whether she should confide her thoughts in her friend. "It's just…"

"Less talk, more sketching," said Jane, leaning in to check on her students' progress. "Good choice of medium, Anna; I like how you're suggesting the pose rather than reproducing it."

"Just?" asked Rapunzel after the professor was gone, pulling a face.

"Just – I'll tell you later."

"Ugh. Fine."