literally moving overseas (again) tomorrow so updating early.

enjoy!

You end up having a really good day out with Elsa.

The first place you stop is a museum. There's a display of Norwegian History and Culture, and when she tells you, she almost looks embarrassed. Like, she thought she'd had a great idea but now that you're here, she thinks it's stupid.

It's really, really not.

"This is awesome," you end up telling her. The admission is free, again, and honestly. "Where else am I gonna get to see all this cool stuff about Norway in one spot?"

The best part is, they allow photography. There's a small exhibit which doesn't, but you're more than fine with that. There are some really horrendous period paintings that you take a selfie in front of to send to Kristoff. Elsa's acting all dignified and shit, wandering around and actually reading all the information, and here you are, taking the piss.

But then she catches you and smirks, obviously trying to bite back a grin.

You stop off at the gift shop and buy Kristoff an old Norwegian coin. There's a basket of tiny stuffed reindeer that cost the equivalent of $5, so you buy one for his partner, too. You don't know anything about this mysterious man, but it seems serious – and Kristoff seems happy.

Plus, he did say to get him a reindeer!

After that, you stop off somewhere for lunch. Time seems to absolutely fly with Elsa, and you're enjoying yourself. You eye the glass of wine she has with lunch, but it's all right, and she doesn't even end up finishing it. Maybe it didn't taste very nice or something? You elect for a Coke, mostly because if you don't have some kind of caffeine, you're gonna be wrecked by this afternoon.

So lunch is had at a nice café, with some live music. It's bright and open and the food tastes really nice. Elsa gets some kind of salmon dish; you're not so keen on seafood, but they have chicken. It tastes delicious.

Elsa asks you about yourself; what your hobbies are. It's a little embarrassing, but you don't actually have any. Not really.

You like reading. You've been meaning to read Love, Simon, or whatever the original title was called, out of solidarity for Kristoff. He's probably not interested in a movie about a gay teenager, but from everything you've seen about it online, the gay community were pretty happy with the representation.

You mention this to her, and she looks at you with mild curiosity. She seems to actually care, and there's no judgement or anything.

Not that you'd thought she'd be homophobic or anything, because she certainly seemed to have a progressive outlook, but one couldn't always tell.

"Was it a surprise to you?" she asks, and you give a small shrug, finishing a mouthful of food.

"A little. He'd been dating this chick, Esmé, for years. And it's not like... well. When we were growing up, foster homes were usually pretty shit. And even if the home was good, the other kids weren't always. If he did know, I'm not surprised he didn't share it. I never noticed it."

She nods. "Well, I hope it works out for him," she tells you, genuine sincerity in her tone. You smile.

"What about yourself? Anyone special in your life?"

Elsa's expression falls a fraction, and she shakes her head; a tiny twitch that would almost have been easy to miss if you hadn't been concentrating on her.

"No. Dating never quite works out for me. And besides, I have plenty to keep me busy."

After that sentence, it definitely sounds like the conversation is over; she doesn't want to talk about that side of her personal life, and you don't blame her because it's really rather personal.

Something a therapist mentioned, when you were younger, was about reciprocal learning. Or whatever the term was. Basically, you know that you can't expect Elsa to share anything about herself that you're not also willing to share.

And you're happy to share, so why shouldn't you?

"I used to think the same about me," you say. "Still kinda do. Like, it's hard dating in a chair, so I've never bothered before."

"Mr Westergaard is your first boyfriend?" she asks, surprise lacing her tone. You nod. "I... see..."

You're not sure what that's supposed to mean, so you shrug. "Yeah, I mean. No one else has ever shown interest. And I'm not the prettiest girl or whatever. But I've always had Kris and I've always had Joan, and they're the most important people to me."

"Joan?"

The corner of your lip curls up. "Well, she's not a person. Joan's my cat. She was probably hiding when you- after there was that mix-up with the promotion. I got her from the pound as a kitten a decade ago. She'd been in an accident too, and I fell in love with her. And when people are fostering a kid with a wheelchair, most of them are decent enough to let her have a pet, too."

Elsa doesn't say anything for a moment. She's nodding her head, and she takes a drink of her wine before commenting. "I'm glad you have things you love, and who love you back," she says.

The conversation has taken a suddenly depressing turn, but at least Elsa isn't looking at you like she expects you to burst into tears – or that she's about to burst into tears.

"Yeah... Kris is looking after her while I'm overseas. I'm trying to take as many pictures as possible for him: where would you recommend we go next?"

You, frankly, don't actually care where you go next; you just want to take Elsa's mind off sad topics.

She hums a little, looking you in the eyes. "How do you feel about the zoo?" she asks, eyes glinting.