hi guys! just so you know, i've written past the hanna sex. just so you know, when i release the chapter of hanna sex, i will be releasing one chapter per day until the elsanna happens :)

thanks for sticking with it so far

The plan, it seems, is a bit of shopping, mostly. She lets you start a load of laundry before you go so your clothes will be nice and fresh, and apparently Clarice is coming back today so she's going to put them in the dryer so they're going to be dry, too.

"Is this work stuff or friendship stuff?" you ask her once you're in the car. Despite being rich, it seems as though Elsa doesn't have her own car. You wonder if she can drive at all – you can't imagine being technically able to drive and choosing not to. Even if you were rich.

You don't mention this to her because it's still too early in your friendship to be questioning her life decisions.

She shrugs. "What do you want it to be?"

You grin. "If I say friendship stuff, can we like, go see a movie or something?"

It's a silly suggestion, but it's been years since you've gone to the movies. No money when you had someone to go with, and now you've got no one despite having money.

"You want to see a movie with me?" she asks. And it sounds a little different when she says that, but it's functionally the same, so you nod.

"I mean. Yeah. Why not? There's probably either something really good on, or something really shitty."

A smile works its way onto her face, and she gives an amused shrug. "Sure, why not?"

You barely hold back a fist bump. Why has friendship been so hard with her lately? It really doesn't make any sense.

But you're both making up for it now.

The movie ends up being one of the shitty ones. You have to sit close to the front because it's not like you can walk up the stairs, but Elsa doesn't seem to mind. It's the sort of theatre that is a little more expensive, but the seats are more comfortable and they even let you order like, special hot food that they bring out to you. It's pretty great. Elsa gets a glass of wine – she drinks a lot, but if you were as rich and powerful as she is, then you probably would, too. You opt for a soda because it's the movies and it's just one of those things.

You do decide to get something a little nicer in regards to food. You don't really want to be picking popcorn out of your teeth all evening.

The movie is... not great. It's a drama of some kind and it's not like. Terrible. But probably because the friendship thing is weird, it's a little uncomfortable. But that's something that will pass, so you try not to dwell on it.

Afterwards, you wander around the shopping centre. As it turns out, Elsa had to pick up a package from a cooking store. You're not sure what it is, and when it turns out to be a special kind of grater, you're even more confused. She just shrugs and says, "I like baking." And well, that's good enough.

"You might have to teach me," you say. "I can cook but I can't bake to save my life. It's too... precise."

She gives a little laugh. "Really? I think cooking is much harder. True, I suppose baking does need to be a little more... thoughtful... but at the same time, once you understand how certain ingredients interact, it's much more predictable. I always undercook food, but when I bake... I don't know. It's just easier."

"Well, I'll make dinner and you can make dessert," you say. She gives you an odd look at that, just for a moment – barely a flicker, really, but long enough to have you rethinking your words. You push past it, try not to think about it, because you really don't want to.

"What's your favourite thing to make?" you ask. She thinks about it for a moment.

"Krumkake," she finally answers. "It's this Norwegian cake-thing. It's kind of hard to explain?"

"What does it mean?"

"Oh, it's like. A crepe? Or a waffle. It's rather sweet, and I normally fill mine with whipped cream and fruit."

"That sounds pretty good," you tell her. "Maybe I should give baking another try one day.

You ask more questions, trying to get a feel of who Elsa is as a person. She loves Norwegian food, and you wonder for a moment why she decided to stay in America – obviously there's a lot of business back in Norway. No reason why she can't do it all there. She also tells you that she has a bit of a sweet tooth.

"Does that mean like. Sweet coffee and cakes and stuff?" you ask innocently. Or try to. She gives a shrug.

"I suppose. I've just always had my coffee black, but I don't have anything against sweeter coffee. It just usually doesn't give me that caffeine boost I need."

You nod, but inside you're mentally celebrating because you knew that she was the kind of person to enjoy a coffee not entirely dark and bitter. "Well, I'll get you a sweeter one next time," you say. She just smiles.