Shit son look at this it's over 8,000 fucking words ha have fun reading.

Anybody who's been following me on tumblr may have seen me talking about a super-long one shot that was angsty. This is that one shot, sans angst, because I can only manage it in small doses (if you want angst, go read From: Elsa)

Rated M for a heck ton of swearing, and a little bit of smuttiness (but not full blown fawking, so if that's what you came for, too bad)

-Enjoy

Rapunzel was hosting a party at our house. Usually, I'd whine and complain about it until I'd convinced her to ask somebody else to host the festivities, but considering it was her Christmas party, I sucked it up and let her have her fun. And really, the only problems I had with hosting a party were the mess afterwards (which Rapunzel had promised to take care of herself) and the fact that if I got bored (I wasn't much for social drinking) I couldn't exactly leave. Another thing leaving was good for, aside from alleviating boredom, was being able to avoid people I'd rather not interact with.

Such as Elsa Diamantstov.

Of course, being mutual friends of Rapunzel's it was unavoidable that we both attend any party she did. But that fact that I had not only to share a space with the Ice Bitch for the entire night, but invite her into my home is what drove me to my first beer of the night. My only intention was to get so drunk I could forget whatever the she was going to say to me tonight.

I just don't get her. Right from the moment we met, she's had it out for me. I've replayed our first meeting in my head hundreds of times, and to this day I still haven't figured out exactly what buttons I'd pushed to give her such contempt of everything that was Anna Davis. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that when we first met, I spit my coffee all over her. I mean really though, I had apologised for it more than enough times, as well as giving her my jacket to cover up the stain and paying for her coffee, but I think it's a lot more deeply-rooted than that.

Maybe we were just made to be mortal enemies, like cats and dogs, and it was just a coincidence we had the same taste in friends. But either way, I knew there'd be no avoiding her at this party, so I'd just make the experience as pleasant as possible for myself by getting completely wasted.

I was four beers in before I had to face her. By then, the party was in full swing, and I was doing a fair amount of my own swinging, so not only could I hardly hear what she was saying, but I really couldn't bring myself to care.

Until she knocked my solo cup out of my hand and stormed off. I tried to drag my mind out of its foggy state. What had she been saying that made her so mad when I ignored her? Looking around, there was nobody nearby who seemed to have seen the exchange, so I couldn't ask them. I glanced forlornly down at my cup. I'd still had half a beer left in there. Suddenly, anger bubbled up in my chest. What gave her the right? Honestly, she'd ignored me plenty of times, and I'd never pulled a stunt like that.

Now egged on by my internal ranting, I pushed through the sea of people after her. Well, I stumbled more than I pushed. The edge of my vision was swimming, had the room always been tilted at this angle? I knew I was a bit of a lightweight, but still. Oh maybe it had something to do with that bottle of tequila on the kitchenette? I shook off the thoughts. No, I had a mission. Find Elsa. Slap Elsa. Tell Elsa she's a bitch, even if she's hot. Kiss Elsa. Wait, no. Kill Elsa. Wasn't that illegal? Whatever.

I finally tracked her down. She'd gotten out the back. There was Rapunzel facenomming her boyfriend against a wall, but she pulled him inside when she saw me looking at her funny. I didn't mean to, but everything confuses me when I'm drunk, so I'm guessing I looked like something dopey. A cow? Nevermind. Now it was just me and Elsa outside. I tried to pull myself together a bit before confronting her. I stomped (lurched) over to her. Her back was to me, so I put a hand on her shoulder and spun her around.

"What the hell is your- mphf!" I was cut off by a set of soft, plush lips pressed against mine. My mouth was still open from my talking, and a tongue slipped inside, teasing mine. I moaned. It tasted of mint and chocolate, odd, because I was sure everyone who was at this party had been drinking the same crappy beer. Oh fuck. Whoever was kissing me was really, really good at it. Wait who was kissing me? Elsa? "Elsa!" I gasped, pushing her away, "what the fuck?" She looked as confused as I felt (which was really saying something)

"I told you to follow me if you felt the same."

"Felt the same what?" I gaped, totally lost. She smirked, an adorably sexy lilt of her lips, and moved close to me so those same lips were now at my ear.

"Tell me Anna, are you cold?" I trembled in response. She seemed to take it as a yes, because she stripped herself of her jacket and threw it over my shoulders. I was encompassed my her scent, something I'd never taken the time to notice before, but was seriously enjoying. Wait Anna, no stop.

"Felt the same what?" I asked again, growing irritated.

"Feelings? I told you, there's a reason I was always pushing you away..." she trailed off, reconnecting our lips. This time, I didn't push her off.

I woke the next morning in bed. My own bed. Alone. Naked. Shit.

I wasn't sure how I'd gotten there. Some time between the beginning of the party, the drinking, and...kissing Elsa? Did that actually happen? I sat up and groaned, palming my forehead lightly. How much did I drink last night? And that confrontation with Elsa, did that actually happen too? I knew there was one way to find out and so steeling myself, I dressed and was about to leave when something caught my eye. A jacket, the one Elsa was wearing last night tossed carelessly under my desk. I grabbed it, exited my room, and hoped Elsa had decided to crash on a couch downstairs.

There was some light snoring from figures scattered across the room and sofas. The smells and sounds from last night gone, somebody had unplugged the iPod speakers. I looked around, but there was no sign of the Ice Queen anywhere. No longer able to ignore the pounding sensation in my head, I made my way into the kitchen, carefully stepping over two passed-out frat boys on the way. When I got into the kitchen though, it was empty of any bodies but exactly the one I was looking for.

Elsa nursed a glass of water in one hand, and was rubbing her temple with the other. Her eyes were closed, and a part of me hoped she wouldn't notice my presence, but she must have sensed me because she opened her eyes then to look right at me. Something akin to...fear, I think, flashed in her hazy eyes before she composed herself.

"Oh, it's you," she mumbled before offering me the packet of aspirin on the counter behind her, "you look like you need this."

"Thanks," I said, sincerely. If I was going to sort out whatever happened last night, I was going to want to be somewhat in my right mind. I grabbed my favourite mug from the cupboard, one with snowflake patterns on it. I filled it with water, downed the pills and drained the cup. We were silent for a few minutes, as I considered how I was going to approach the subject of last night, and tried to figure out if I had dreamt the whole thing or not. Eventually, the silence got almost as stifling as my hangover so I just asked her. "Did eh...do you remember what happened last night?" She hesitated a moment, and that same look of fear flashed through her again before she answered cautiously.

"I think I was right about you needing those pills. What exactly to you mean?" she asked, dancing around my question. Oh no you don't.

"Like, did you and I uh...talk or anything?" Again she hesitated before continuing.

"We talked no more than we usually do. You might have insulted me a bit, but I would have responded in kind. Oh, I see you've found my jacket, I was looking for that," I relinquished the article to her, "now if you will excuse me," she pushed off the counter she was leaning against and pulled her jacket on. That jacket, the one I worn at last night. Or was it a dream? "I have class in an hour and I must be going." With that, she exited the kitchen, and I could hear the front door open and slam, causing a few of the bodies on the floor of the other room to stir and grunt.

The next few weeks I heard nothing of Elsa. It wasn't surprising really, I'd gone home for the Christmas break to my parents' house, so I didn't hear much of anything from anyone except Rapunzel, and that was really only because we had gone to high school together and she'd come home too. I was still unsure weather or not I had actually dreamed the whole...kissing thing (though I'm sure given the fact I woke up wearing nothing, we'd have done a little more than kissing.) I wanted to ask Rapunzel if Elsa had said anything to her about the party, but seeing as the only time I'd ever previously enquired about Elsa was to ask how she'd broken her leg last year, Rapunzel might think it was a bit strange.

As it happened though, Elsa decided to pay Rapunzel a little visit over the holidays. Something about her dad telling her to stay in America over Christmas to study, instead of going home to Norway. I thought it was a bit harsh, her own father not wanting her home, but I tried not to sympathize, goodness knows she wouldn't if the roles were reversed. But while Rapunzel was explaining why she couldn't meet up with me because she'd promised her day to Elsa, I couldn't help but think about what probably transpired at the party. So I carefully tried to approach the subject.

"How is Elsa anyway?"

"What?" She mumbled through the receiver, probably wondering if she'd heard me right. I didn't blame her.

"How is she? You know, away from home for the holiday season?" I tried to play it off as a casual enquiry.

"I know what you mean, but I can't figure out why you want to know."

"Hey, I'm not the heartless bitch in our...acquaintanceship," I defended. I'd never really given Rapunzel a reason to think I wouldn't care about Elsa's well-being. She was the one shutting me out.

"Elsa's not heartless, she's just-"

"Cold?"

"-a little aloof, is what I was going to say," she sighed, "look, I still can't figure out why you two can't get along. I mean, I hang out with both of you, and you seem like the kind of people who'd have a lot to talk about. Did you know Elsa's really into art? Like she can't draw to save her life but she loves the history-"

"One swallow doesn't make a Summer, 'Punz. And besides, I'm more than willing to talk to her, she's the one with the rod jammed up her ass. Like every time she looks at me, it's like I just killed her puppy!"

"You're exaggerating Anna-bear-"

"But I'm really not, you know," I dead-panned, "and it's always been like this! She's never liked me. No wait, she's never given herself a chance to like me, to even get to know me-"

"Actually that's not true," she cut me off.

"What?"

"She's actually asked about you quite a bit. Whenever you don't show up for our outings for instance, she asks where you are and if you're okay. And sometimes if we're looking through CD's in Oaken's Records, she'll ask what kind of music you like, and she looks really happy whenever I mention something you guys like in common, like The Beatles-"

"'Punz, everyone likes The Beatles."

"Yeah, but is everyone's favourite Beatles' song Hey Jude-"

"Possibly, it's a great song?"

"You didn't let me finish. Is everyone's favourite Hey Jude, followed closely by that one about LSD?"

"Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds."

"Yeah that one."

"Well that doesn't prove anything..."

"Oh there's more, I mean you guys could get on so well if you just tried to talk to her!"

"I have tried, okay! I'm getting fed up of trying. I just wanted to know how she was doing for Christ's sake."

Rapunzel sighed again.

"She's fine I guess. It doesn't really bother her. She's been a bit fidgety since the party though, for whatever reason. Did something happen between you two?" Suspicion laced her voice.

"Nope, nothing!" I said, probably a bit too quickly.

"All right, I'm going to go get ready..." she trailed off, I could tell she still thought something was up. Just before I pressed the button to hang up, she added as an afterthought, "oh, Elsa was wondering if you'd be joining us today?" I didn't reply, "I'll take your silence as a no then," she bit, before hanging up.

I didn't really talk to Rapunzel for the rest of the holidays after that. When we went back to our house on campus after it ended, we seemed to make a silent agreement to pretend it had never happened. Worked for me, I guess.

But the fact that Elsa had been asking if I would be attending that day, made me think. Rapunzel wouldn't have mentioned it if it was Elsa hoping I wouldn't be there, so it seemed Elsa had been genuinely asking for me. Maybe I should have gone, if nothing else than to see her for the first time since the party, and try to figure out what had actually happened and what I had just dreamed.

I always shook it off though. I had more important things to be worrying about, like Spring finals. I had to prepare an art piece, though we had yet to get our themes, and study up on Baroque era painting. Of course then when I started thinking about art history, I started thinking about what Rapunzel had said to me about Elsa, and if Elsa would be any good of a study partner for the subject.

By Spring Break, I was getting a little obsessed with the idea of Elsa. I'd managed to talk Rapunzel out of a party to celebrate the beginning of the break, and she'd instead gone out to her boyfriend's place for a party there. I'd taken out one of my sketch pads and let my hand wander across the page, doodling more than anything else. A knock at the door shook me out of my daze, and I looked down, flinching when I realised I'd begun scribbling something that greatly resembled the very person I was trying not to think about. Grumbling, I'd stomped down the stairs, wondering who the hell was knocking at the door at hlf twelve in the morning. Rapuzel had a key after all and-

Oh Hell no.

Standing there in all her stupidly flawless Norwegian glory, was Elsa Diamantstov. Ugh.

"Rapunzel's out," I told her, crossing my arms and leaning against the door frame.

"I know," she said, strutting past me into my own home. Rude. "She asked me to come and check that you weren't doing anything dangerous...like thinking," she quirked an eyebrow, and leaned her back against the wall. She was wearing that gloriously sexy brown leather jacket from the party.

"Oh ha ha," I forced. Look Anna, maybe this is exactly she hates you, you're being kind of a bitch. "Well, look, I'm in one piece," I gestured at my pyjamas, "and I was just about to turn in for the night-"

"No you weren't."

"What makes you so sure?"

"You've got charcoal on your nose. You've been drawing, and nobody draws to wind down before bed." I wiped at my nose, and it came back with a dusting of grey.

"It's graphite, actually, I hate charcoals, and how would you know? 'Punzie says you can't draw for shit." She scoffed in response.

"I had a...close friend. She was also an artist. She was also ginger, now that I think about it."

"Strawberry-blonde!" I hissed. My hair was a sensitive subject.

"Whatever you say, Weasley."

I decided to ignore her dig and focused instead on the reference.

"You've read Harry Potter?"

"Anna, I'm from Norway, not Mars, yes, I've read Harry Potter," she said, smirking, "anyway, I had better go, I just came by to check if you were okay...as per Rapunzel's request," she said pushing off the wall and walking through the door without so much as a backward glance. Huh. That was weird. Figuring I'd only send my thoughts into more of a dizzying array if I thought on it too hard, I shut the door and tried to forget about it.

Rapunzel came crashing into my room at three in the morning. I threw a pillow at her, trying to get her to shut up. It got her to shut up, but she decided to collapse across my bead and on top of me, knocking my breath out.

"When did you get so heavy?" I wheezed, and tried shoving her off. She only giggled in response and started poking my leg. I gave up after a few minutes, she'd need to get up to pee eventually, I'd dealt with drunk Rapunzel more than enough times. I tried to let myself fall back to sleep again before a thought occurred to me. "Oh yeah, thanks for sending your attack dog after me," I grumbled.

"Huh?" she groaned.

"You know, Elsa. You send her over here to make sure I was still alive?" there was no response for a few moments, and I though she'd fallen asleep when I heard her say:

"Don't be silly Anna, I haven't spoken to Elsa all day."

So what was the deal? One day she's checking up on me of her own free will, and the next, she's back to pretending like I'd crawled out of her toilet or something. I shouldn't have to deal with this shit. I'm just trying to get my useless fucking art degree so I can go be another fruitless painter who wishes for just one god-damn commission to pay the rent. The way things were going though, I'd have blown any commission money on a pack of Marlboro within the hour.

I was sitting on a bench on campus, enjoying the fresh air by lighting up a cigarette. I had a three hour gap until my next class, but I wasn't bothered going home. Hans, my ex, had gotten me smoking back in high school. I thought I was in love with him, because he told me I was pretty and fucked me hard. I missed high school. Simpler times. People cared about who was dating who and where they kissed. If I had some kind of rumour mill to depend on, I might have gotten answers about what transpired at the party between me and Elsa the very morning after it happened.

As it were, we were in college and nobody gave a damn about that stuff, and they certainly didn't give a damn about the lonely, brooding, red-headed girl sitting alone on a bench smoking her life away. I'd meant to kick the habit in college, but it was good to numb the pain. Hans and I were still dating in freshman year, right up until I'd caught his hand in another girl's pants. I didn't get angry, and I didn't slap him, or scream at him and that's when I knew I never loved him, I had never loved any guy for that matter, because not ten minutes later, my own hand was down that same girl's pants.

But sex had always been something special to me. I'd given Hans my virginity, gladly, and I regretted it later, so I made sure I'd never regret sex again, and kept smoking to quell the urge to screw away the boredom. I wasn't hurt, I was just lost. He'd been a constant in my life for so long, I didn't really know what to do, until Rapunzel shook me out of my stupor one day, told me I was being an idiot, and got me back on track. I still smoked on occasion, because it was a good distraction from more damaging things.

Things like thoughts of a blonde-haired exchange student.

This particular cigarette was dedicated to the silent treatment she'd been giving me the past few days. It wasn't the first time she'd given it to me, but it was certainly the first time I'd smoked about it and it confused me really. Why did I care weather or not we spoke? She'd made it obvious long ago that she didn't, so why should I?

It was the middle of April, so I wasn't surprised when I felt a few light drops of rain fall onto the back of my head, nor when it turned into a full-blown rainstorm. Sighing, I just pulled the hood of my jacket up over my head, the already soaked cloth doing little to protect me. I continued to smoke. Ignoring everything until I heard the hurried footsteps that had been splashing through shallow puddles come to an abrupt stop in front of me. I jammed my hands in my pocket and glared up. It was Elsa, fixing me with a glare of her own, until she took in my appearance.

Bags under my eyes, cigarette dangling out of my mouth, not make-up, my freckles were in full-view, and Han's old hoodie pulled up over me. I probably looked a sight, but I didn't care until her expression softened. Was she pitying me?

"You should get inside. You will catch a cold."

"What does it matter to you? 'Sides, no smoking indoors," I offered by way of explanation, before breaking eye contact and looking down again. A beat. She continued in the direction she'd been going in before she stopped. I thought that was the end of it until I heard something being place on the bench beside me a few minutes later. A cup of coffee, and a brown leather jacket.

Elsa's jacket.

It's the end of the academic year. Finally. Too much crap has happened this past year. Between the dream kissing Elsa and the fact she seemed to step-up her assholeishness 500% only to turn around and get me a coffee of all things. I was just ready to get back home to my parents' house for the Summer, but there was just one last thing I had to do.

Rapunzel's end of year party.

Being best friends with somebody so close to the social scene of college life had its benefits, I guess. But being forced to attend parties I could really do without wasn't one of them. Especially since I knew she was going to be here.

Lo and behold, an hour and a half in the Ice Queen herself enters, fashionably late. Her fucking nerve. Everything she did lately seemed to piss me off. Who does she think she is arriving late for my best friend's party? I took a swig of the beer I held in my hand. Before she'd come, my grip on the can was relaxed, easy, I was ready to set it down if I needed to. But now my hand was clenched tight on it, denting it slightly.

I watched her scan the room, looking for someone, Rapunzel probably. Of course, now that she'd finally bothered to show her stupid face, she'd make sure the host of the party fucking knew it. Like it was so much trouble for her to be here, but because she was such a good friend, she'd taken time out of her busy schedule that should no longer exist since you know, the academic year was over, just to grace us mere mortals with her presence. What a fucking bitch. With her perfect hair and her barely-there freckles and her glorious eyes that were looking right at me.

Oh.

Fuck.

She sauntered over to me like she owned the place, and if I didn't know any better, I'd say she did. She stopped about a foot away from me, looking at me like I was some sort of microbial colony she'd found growing in the bottom of one of her fucking Gucci handbags or some shit. Caught up in my internal ranting, I didn't catch what she was saying.

"What?" I snapped, annoyed. Why the Hell was she even talking to me?

"Oh. So you're deaf and rude? Leave some for the rest of us," she remarked, and pointed to the beer in my hand. She was probably referring to the fact I had chugged more of it in the five minutes she'd been in the room than I had all night. It was only my first beer, but now that she was right there, I knew it wasn't going to be my last.

"It's your fault," I told her, taking another swig to drain the can, "and at least I'm not so far up my own ass you can't see my feet any more."

"Touché," she conceded, and took the now empty can from my protesting grip, "let me get you another one-" she started.

"Fuck off," I flipped her off and went to get something stronger from our cabinet. I hadn't planned on getting shit-faced tonight, but if Elsa was going to insist on pulling stunts like that, I was going to need something powerful. I could hardly contain myself standing across a room from her, let alone having her all up in my face, so close I could smell her breath. Peppermint, with a hint of chocolate. I'm surprised the Ice Bitch didn't choke on something as sweet as chocolate.

And suddenly, I'm thinking about that dream again. I'm wondering what it would be like to have those rosy lips on mine, that peppermint-and-chocolate tongue dancing with my own. Jesus Christ Anna, get a fucking grip. It was a dream. A stupid dream that felt all too real but never actually happened.

I finally got the locked alcohol cabinet opened, my shaking hands not making the task any easier, and grabbed the first cool glass bottle of Smirnoff I could reach. It was half empty, and burned on the way down, but it was a kick I needed. Something to make the horrible, pounding dubstep Rapunzel's boyfriend had chosen to put on the endlessly-repeating playlist for the night sound not so much like the squealing, banging, clanking of machinery and more like a dull throb I knew would grace me in the morning in the form of a hangover.

We were almost two hours in, and I was a lot more drunk than I'd originally intended. I stumbled out onto the impromptu dance floor that had been set up by shoving all of the furniture back against the walls earlier that day. I pushed my way right to the middle, still nursing the vodka, past the sweating, grinding bodies pressed so close together I couldn't tell where the mass of people ended and I began. The room stank of beer and the spirits of both the alcoholic kind and the pumped-up kind that reminded me of back when I was a teenager.

Back in high school, I thought everything was easier, but looking back now, everything was just coated in nostalgia. High school wasn't so great. I got bullied because I had a few more rolls of fat than everyone else, because I didn't like the same music, because I liked girls more than boys in a slightly-more-than-platonic-way.

And there it was. The epiphany. Bang-smack in the centre of a pack of drunken, raving college kids I realised why I hated that dream so much.

Because it was so close to the truth it hurt.

I wanted Elsa. I didn't just want her to talk to me, to even acknowledge me without scrunching her nose in distaste. I didn't just want to be her friend, I didn't just want her to like me. I wanted her to love me. To destroy me. To chew me up and spit me out because I was just such a fucking masochist and I hadn't even realised it until now. I wanted her to burn me like the hard alcohol I had gripped in one hand as the other pumped in time with the music. I wanted Elsa, and I could never have her.

Now in need of air, I ploughed my way out of the mass of bodies, across the room, through the kitchen and out the back door, where I burst into the night. It was mild, there was a slight breeze blowing and the skies were clear, letting me see the stars. There were a few people out here, milling about and smoking. I asked the closest person to me, some guy I vaguely remembered from my art class, for a smoke and he obliged, even lighting it for me. After I thanked him, I kicked off my shoes in the direction of the door and let my bare toes curl in the grass. I strutted out to the edge of the garden and flopped onto the ground, as far from the house and as far from her as possible. The earth was cool and slightly damp beneath me, the sound of crickets mixed with the soft thrumming of the bass from inside. I took a drag of the cigarette, letting the poison fill my lungs and exhaled slowly, savouring the feeling of the smoke licking my throat.

I gazed up at the sky then, taking it in. It was odd, I hadn't stargazed in years. I'd never felt the urge to. But here, buzzed on alcohol and nicotine, staring at the light of dead stars billions of miles away, it just seemed like the thing to do. I found my old favourite constellations, Libra, Lupus and Ursa Minor. I tried to remember a few more, but they eluded me, and soon I found myself inventing my own patters with the stars, like a free-form dot-to-dot. I made a moose, a dove and a mouse before my musings were interrupted by another body dropping to the ground next to me. I was too out of it to even think to check who it was, and I instead thrust the bottle of vodka I still clung to like anchor at them. They took it gently, and I could hear them unscrewing the cap and, the swish of the liquid inside as they threw it back in a similar manner to me. It wasn't until they'd closed it and handed it back to me that I realised who it was.

"Elsa?" I croaked. Frowning, I cleared my throat. Better. "What're you doing down here?"

"You seemed lonely," she smirked and plucked the cigarette from my fingers, held it between the tips of her index and middle fingers. Prim and proper, a picture of sophisticated grace. I snorted at the thought. "Something funny?" she asked, eyebrow creeping up. I ignored her question.

"What are you really doing down here?"

"I wanted a smoke."

"Fuck off, you wouldn't take a smoke from me if it was the last fag on Earth."

"Yet here we are." That shut me up. My already minuscule wit became even lesser when I was drunk, or high. It was a whole world of trouble if I was both. "Why have you been avoiding me?"

"So you noticed?" I was my turn to raise a brow. I had been actively avoiding her, not just tonight, but ever since the coffee on the bench. I figured she'd be relieved, but her tone of voice sounded accusing. Like she expected me to be there. I suppose after all this time pushing at her, trying to make her like me, she did. Maybe I was just a constant in her life. My incessant attempts at friendship nothing more than the ticking of a clock in the bedroom, or the buzz of a refrigerator. Something you never really noticed until it was gone, and it left the room with some sort of empty feeling. I'm not sure if I liked the thought of that or not.

"Well, yes...I suppose. I mean, you should not get too flattered," she warned, "I was always going to notice when the annoying little bug that was fluttering around my head for so long finally left." Bingo. "Why?" she asked.

"I thought I'd give myself a brake."

"Yourself?"

"I figured I deserved it. I've been having a strange year."

"How so?"

"Well for one, this might be the single longest conversation you and I have ever had."

"True. But that's not all that is bothering you, is it?"

"Well no, it's not, I also had this really fucking weird dream and- why do you even care?" I sighed, sitting up abruptly and pulling my knees up to my chest, shivering against the night. What had seemed mild when I'd initially stepped out had turned chilly, and I saw that anyone who had ventured outside before had left or gone back in, leaving Elsa and I alone. I shivered again, but this time it ceased when a warm weight settled over me. Elsa's jacket. I looked at it. It was the same one she'd worn at that party at Christmas. The same one from the dream too. The same jacket every fucking time. Did this chick own no other clothing? I pulled it closer anyway. I didn't want to, but it was a welcome and unexpected heat. It didn't hurt that it smelled like her either. Instead of mint and chocolate, it was vanilla and cigarette smoke and...Axe? It was a strange blend, but it suited someone like her, I guess.

"I don't know that I do. But I will tell you, it has been a pretty strange year for me as well."

"Oh?"

"Ja, Anna," oh fuck I love the way my name sounds from your lips, "I have learned that some things I thought to be true were really not. And it scared me, because in my life, there was always a lot of changes, and I began to hate change. But I am starting to wonder if maybe this particular change is for the better."

"Well, that's kind of how I've been feeling, I think."

"So we understand each other?"

"Makes a change then, I suppose. We've never tried that before. Since we're feeling all kind of mellow and drunk and gushy right now, think you wanna tell me why you always hated me?" Her face flushed and her mouth flapped open and shut a few times, trying to find her words.

"I never...hated you, Anna. Rather, I hated the things you brought up, made me had to face. Things I wanted to ignore because they would mean change, and as I have already told you, I hate change," she said carefully, looking at me sideways. That look, that look did it.

Her expression was timid, her face flushed, from the alcohol or something else I didn't nor want to know, her lips were parted slightly, and I could see the tips of her top row of teeth. The light of the stars caught the baby hairs on her hairline and the side of her jaw and the rest of her hair was illuminated by the porch light shining behind her, making it glow. Freckles danced softly across the bridge of her nose and her icy blue eyes didn't seem cold like they always did. They looked weary, frightened.

I moved slowly, on autopilot, afraid if I moved too fast I'd scare her off. My hand cupped the far side of her jaw and I tilted her head to face me fully. My other hand brushed a rebelling strand of hair back against her head, before coming to rest on the other side of her face. My hold was loose, breakable if she felt the need to bolt. I tilted my own head so our foreheads were almost touching.

"What kind of things?" I whispered, hoping somewhere in the back of my mind my breath didn't smell as bad as my mouth currently tasted.

"My um... feelings," she breathed, and that was all the confirmation I needed before I gracelessly crashed my lips into hers. Her cheeks were soft under the palms of my hands, as were her lips against my own, as I remembered dreaming they'd be. She didn't move, for a while, but as I pulled away, afraid now that I'd totally screwed up any chance of friendship or a relationship with her, she followed me and reconnected our lips and when she started to move hers against mine it felt like an electric charge building and sparking. Her hands reached up to my neck to hold me as I traced her bottom lip with my tongue. I was aware that sometime during our kiss, her jacket had slipped off my shoulders and I shivered once more, although this time I wasn't sure if it was the cool breeze or her tongue timidly flicking against mine. I could get over the shattered illusion of peppermint and chocolate if vanilla and smoke always tasted this good.

When we finally parted, the necessity to breathe too great, I rested my forehead against hers. I could hear faint cheering and wolf whistles from inside the house. Fucking perverts probably thought this was the hottest thing ever. In my opinion, they were right though. In spite of that thought, I pulled away from her, searching for the discarded jacket. When I found it, I put my arms in the sleeves this time, the fabric feeling almost as good against my skin as Elsa, and snuggled into it. She smiled gently and stood up. She brushed off any grass and dirt from her jeans before offering me a hand up. I took it and once we were both standing, she pulled me close and whispered in my ear.

"I think that we had better talk about this. In private."

We had escaped to my room, something I insisted to Rapunzel we keep locked during parties under any circumstance. I figured this was a special case, as the door slammed shut, with Elsa pressed against it, and against me. My hands we on either side of her head, planted on the door, and her own hands which had worked my hair loose from its bun some time between the bottom of the stairs and here were now buried in the depths of my copper mane, tangled, pulling and tugging all delightfully painful. After one particularly sharp tug I moaned into her mouth, and she took the chance to slip her tongue against mine.

It brushed against my teeth and teased my tongue and I felt my control of the situation slipping away, so I removed my hands from beside her head and pushed the hem of her shirt at her hips aside, and started tracing patters across her snow-white skin lightly with my nails. When I brushed against the part of her hip that met the edge of her jeans, it was her turn to moan and buck her hips against me. She pulled away from my mouth and I was about to complain until she growled at me.

"Bed. Now."

Nodding wordlessly, I took a few slow steps backward, taking her with me. I turned us around just before I knew we'd hit the edge of the bed and fall, so that I was leaning over her. Unsatisfied that our legs were still dangling over the edge and resting on the floor, Elsa kicked of her shoes and they landed against the door with a thump, before she pushed herself up further and pulled me with her, so we were now both fully on the bed. Once she was satisfied, I attacked her neck, nipping, kissing, licking and sucking as the mood struck me. A few gentle feather-light kisses peppered here, a bite there. That was going to leave a mark. That single thought roared through me when I pulled away to look at her reddening neck and collar.

Mine.

I could hear the blood pounding in my ears, or was it the music, the drink? Whatever it was, I knew I'd much rather it be drowned out by the sound of Elsa's moans, so my wandering hands returned to the hem of her shirt as her own hand remained embedded in my hair, and I pulled up, separating us for a moment until her shirt came free over her head. I tossed the shirt aside, leaving her in her blue-lace bra, chest heaving. Jesus the fuck that was hot.

Stilled momentarily in awe, Elsa took advantage of the situation and flipped us so she was now over me. Her eyes roamed across my body, trying to decide what to do, before fusing our lips together again and reaching and tugging her jacket off my shoulders. I raised myself up on my arms, our lips still together, to allow her to finally be rid of the thing. She tossed it in the direction of the floor, something I hoped she'd be doing with my dress soon enough.

Instead of going straight to the zipper on the back of my dress, her removed her mouth from mine in order to have at my neck and shoulders to do as I had to her earlier. I felt her tongue trailing spit on my jugular, and she traced it down until she met the hollow at the base of my throat where she bit down and sucked to mark me.

"Fuck," I wheezed and clawed at her bare back, half looking for the clasp of her bra, and half needing something to hold on to. I could feel my nails dig in, and I don't know if I drew blood or not, but it hardly mattered because it drew the most delicious, primal noise from her throat against mine.

"Herregud, Anna," she said before returning to her previous task of turning me to mush.

"I don't know what you're saying but," I said, finally finding the clasp of her bra and undoing it with one experienced hand, "I never knew Norwegian could sound so hot."

"Gud jeg visste aldri stemmen din kunne være så opphissende," she met my eyes, smirking and slid her now loose bra off her shoulders. It joined her jacket on the floor. Now her breasts were free and I looked at her, really looked at her for the first time since we came into my room. She was still breathing heavily, her hair in her over the shoulder braid but tousled, and her naked, torso shone in the light coming from my window. The reality of the situation dawned on me suddenly. Granted that nothing got in the way, this night would probably end with me having apparently rough, but incredibly hot sex with the one girl in the world I thought couldn't stand me. And that was what snapped me to my senses.

"Shit, Elsa," I snapped up, our heads would have collided, if not for her fast reflexes. She pulled back slightly, so she was now just straddling me instead of hovering over me.

"Is everything all right? Do you want to stop?" I nodded quickly, blushing and pulling away from her.

"I'm really sorry, especially if you're all ah...worked up. But shit Elsa, what the fuck are we doing?" she let me brace myself against the wall and went to get her discarded t-shirt to pull back over her head, foregoing the bra. Once she settled herself against the wall next to me, she sighed.

"No, I should be the one to apologise. I got carried away and, well I'm sure it's not so easy for you to...um...what is the word? Not understand...comprehend, exactly what is happening. I think I have been sending you some pretty mixed signals."

"You think so?" I scoffed.

"I should explain then. I told you earlier that I never actually hated you. I lied. When I first saw you I...I could not stand you. You seemed to be everything I was not. Sociable, cute, bubbly, the kind of person somebody wants as a best friend. So I thought that was my reason for hating you at first. I think I felt threatened by you and that you were going to be just like the girls from back home, putting me down because I was not confident enough, or talkative, or sexy," she sighed, I disagreed, "and so I hated you for it.

"But after I got to know you better, through Rapunzel, and your other friends, I started to regret that I had pushed you away. And through your constant attempts at friendship, I guess I kind of...developed a crush on you. Which only made me want to push you away even more, because the last thing I needed was a crush on a girl I was supposed to hate who was probably not even gay.

"So, I tried to conceal it, from about halfway through our second year, until that party at Christmas, when you got very drunk and very aggressive and I couldn't help myself but to kiss you. And then the next morning, I don't know why, but I pretended it never happened. I was scared of the feelings. You know the reason I am here is because my very conservative father caught me in bed with another woman? He thought my college in Norway was not a good influence and so he sent me here, he assumed because of the high academic level from Arendelle that the social aspect was not so great, and that I would be ostracised because my English was not good when I first came to America. But here we are, in spite of his best efforts."

"I knew it wasn't a dream," I whispered.

"I'm sorry, I must have caused you a lot of stress."

"Maybe a little," I admitted, but tried to keep the memories of that dark place at bay. "So, I know how you feel about me. And though I can't say I really forgive you for your totally shit treatment of me this past few years, I finally understand," I told her, and tentatively reached for her hand. When my fingers brushed against hers, she took my hand and laced the fingers together. "I think, I might have the makings of a crush on you too, just so you know, but I'm not sure. What I do know is that I definitely enjoyed kissing you."

"I can understand," she gave my hand a squeeze, "really even this is more than I ever hoped for. And I don't expect you to forgive me right away. In fact, I am glad you don't. I want to earn it, you know? To be worthy of you. It would leave a bad taste to know that I had treated you so terribly only for you to turn around and tell me it's okay. Because it wasn't okay, it was awful, and I really am sorry. So, I am not going to push you away any more," she removed her hand from mine and draped her arm across my shoulders to pull me tighter to her chest, "you can take a break, it is my turn to try to bring you close."

I dedicate this to that one reviewer of One Short Day who thought I could have made it longer, but didn't say anything constructive otherwise (and frankly annoyed me a bit): IS THIS LONG ENOUGH FOR YOU?

Also, Elsa's Norwegian was:

Herregud-Oh my God

Update: Corrected to-

Gud jeg visste aldri stemmen din kunne være så opphissende.-God I never knew your voice could be so [exciting] (unsure of translation of exciting)