kashmir-bbj-deactivated20160322 asked: Hello! If you're still taking prompts I'll leave this here: Elsa is at the beach but she's not amused. She doesn't even like to swim, no wait, she can't swim! One way or another she almost drown and she woke up thinkin' "I hope I wasn't saved by that lifeguard idiot /no one does a mouth to mouth like Gaston!/" but instead in front of her there's this redhead beauty aaand now she's embarrassed.

Not currently taking prompts, but I’ll answer this anyway.

“Go to the beach,” they said.



“It’ll be fun,” they said.



“It’s not like you’ll drown,” they said.



Well too late for that, Elsa thought as she struggled for air, arms wildly flailing as she tried not to sink to the cold abyss of death that was the sea. She had been strolling along the edge, looking for seashells, when some jerk had bumped into her while trying to catch a Frisbee. She had stumbled into the shallow water at the moment that a large wave had hit. Screaming, she had been pulled further out into sea, and…well…

I’m gong to die.

The sound of a harsh whistle reached her ears amidst the roaring of the waves and the pounding of her frantic heart. A flash of red caused her to groan in spite of almost drowning.

If it’s Gaston, just take me now. I’d rather take my chances here than with–

Slim arms wrapped around her, jerking her closer to what Elsa assumed would be the shore. Black spots crowded her vision, and she was sure she had blacked out at some point, because the next thing she knew, a pair of soft lips were covering her own.

Air rushed back into her lungs, and Elsa coughed–thankfully, whoever it was had pulled away enough to give her space. She blinked a few times, trying to regain her bearings, and noticed the cute redhead kneeling beside her, lips quirked into a relieved grin.

“You’re…not Gaston,” Elsa stated lamely. Somehow, “Thanks” was lost in translation.



The lifeguard–because that standard red swimsuit and white cross couldn’t mean anything else–giggled, reaching a hand up to tuck a strand of red hair behind her ear. “No, I’m not. Sorry to disappoint.”

“No, no…I’m glad…actually,” Elsa mumbled, cheeks lighting up. “Um…thank you. For saving me.”



“No probl–”



“Anna! I heard someone was drowning!” an all-too-familiar voice suddenly shouted, “No one does mouth-to-mouth like Gaston!”



“Please kill me now,” Elsa groaned, ignoring how wet her hands were as she covered her face with them.



The lifeguard–Anna–giggled again, and Elsa peeked through her fingers to see her wink.

“Can’t have you dying on me now. Not when I haven’t taken you out for dinner yet.”



Elsa smiled.

…

“Maybe you’ll meet someone,” they said.

