So the second part of Snowflake is mostly new scenes, but there are some that get retold from Elsa’s POV.

Every time they meet – and they continue to do so – Elsa’ heart races for all the best reasons. One meeting in particular even manages to make her heart stop for several beats; one on a spring day so warm that she imagines this is what summer must feel like, where she’s this one telling the tall tale and Anna is the one curling ever tighter around herself in a mostly fruitless effort to muffle her laughter.

Elsa doesn’t really understand why she wants to quiet it, but she readily admits to her own bias – at least to herself. They’re sitting on the fragrant grass beneath a large tree and are shielded from the park by a large shrub, so she simply smiles and enjoys the sight and sound of Anna’s laughter, as well as the warmth that blooms in her chest whenever their eyes meet. And again, there’s a moment. One where they hold each other’s gazes a few seconds too long while Anna’s chuckles wind down and then die out, and then… and then Anna’s expression shifts to something oddly wistful, and she hesitates before one hand is reaching out to catch a loosened lock of Elsa’s hair and gently settle it back into place.



She doesn’t dare move because Anna isn’t moving either, apart from the faint tremble in her fingers that Elsa can feel where they linger against the side of her face. Instead, she hopes – prays, almost – that her expression is encouraging enough that Anna can find the courage to do what she herself has wanted to for some time.



Please kiss me, her mind whispers as if she expects Anna to hear it somehow. Kiss me, kiss me, kissmekissmekissm–



So really, it shouldn’t be as much of a shock as it is when Anna does, but it is. Enough for her to suck in a startled breath, and for her whirring mind to happily start cataloging every single sensation brought about by the feeling of Anna’s lips against her own. The softness, the warmth of a shaky breath against her own skin, and the slow building of heat somewhere low in her body that finally makes her heart start beating again and rouses her enough that her hand comes up to pull Anna back in when she starts to move away.



Her skin is so warm beneath Elsa’s fingers. She tastes of… of summer and sweetness and golden light, and the low, almost helpless sound she makes when she presses closer makes the slow burn in Elsa’s belly flare so abruptly that it makes her lightheaded.



“Wow.” Anna’s voice is distinctly breathless when they part by however little, and her eyes are absolutely lit up from within. “That was, um… I definitely wouldn’t be opposed to us doing that again. A lot.”



“What is the expression?” Elsa wonders, and smiles when Anna’s fingers curl tighter against her shoulder. “No time like the present?”



Anna laughs against her mouth, and Elsa finally manages to decide that she tastes of love.