You wake up the next day feeling about the most well-rested since you'd left home. Elsa's guest bed is unbelievably comfortable. The only thing that your bed beats it at is the fact that it's your bed; this one is definitely superior.

Once you're fully up and you've been to the bathroom and taken your medicine, you head to the kitchen for some breakfast. There's whole milk in the fridge, along with some butter and jam, so you make yourself some toast. It seems weird because Elsa isn't here, but she did say that you could help yourself. After that you go and have a shower because it's starting to feel uncomfortable and you still haven't seen Elsa.

Even her shower is luxurious. She doesn't have a shower chair, but why would she need one when there's a bench in there anyway? Like, honestly, it has an effect similar to a mermaid on a rock under a waterfall. The pressure is perfect, and you can set the temperature by degrees using a little waterproof panel on the wall.

You're a little jealous, you've got to admit. If she maybe invited you over again, you absolutely wouldn't complain.

And maybe you could make your tuna casserole for her.

... Or you could make her something nicer because she probably has no interest in tuna fucking casserole what a moron.

You ruminate on that while in the shower. You've completely lost track of time when you hear a knock at the door.

"Anna?"

Oh damn, that's right. You're not wasting your hot water, you're wasting Elsa's. You hurry to turn off the taps.

"Yeah?"

There's a moment of silence before she talks again. "I'm going to be heading out shortly," she calls through the door. "You're free to stay as long as you need, but if you'd like me to give you a lift back to your place, I'm more than happy to do that. Please don't think I'm kicking you out!" she adds at the end. You have to smile to yourself at that.

"Hey, no problem," you respond. "I'm- I'll be out shortly!"

"Take your time!"

You don't, because that would be rude. You were literally just sitting in the shower staring off into space because it was that comfortable: you have no reason to be in here any longer.

You do take a little longer than usual to dry off, mostly because even her towels are the most comfortable things you've ever felt. It's honestly getting ridiculous. It's a towel, it shouldn't feel as nice as it does.

Maybe one day you can save up and get a place... well, not as nice as this. And truthfully, you're perfectly happy in your place. But having a few more of these sorts of things would be nice.

You didn't check, but Elsa's cutlery is probably like, real silver or something too.

She's in the kitchen when you appear, freshly scrubbed. She's wearing makeup, as per usual, but this time there's no evidence of any tiredness or bags. A glance at a clock on the wall tells you that it's almost ten in the morning. Despite the late bedtime, it seems that a sleep in was what you both actually needed.

"I see you've already had breakfast," she says, nodding to the plate and knife by the bench. Oh damn, you should have washed up.

"S-sorry," you tell her, moving towards the sink. "I should have-"

"Hey, that wasn't a..." She pauses, sighing. So do you, and you turn to look at her. There's a dry smile on her face, and it actually almost isn't a smile. Her lips are turned up, but she's not happy.

"We never seem to be quite on the same page, do we?" she asks. You're actually a little taken-aback by it.

But she's not wrong, is the thing. You... thought that comment meant something different from what she did. Even in the lift, all those weeks ago, about you having lunch with Hans...

"I guess not," you reply, an expression matching hers rising to your face. She sighs once more, and your first thought is that she's tired of you, or the confusion, or something. But now that she's mentioned it, you're positive that you're wrong.

"I don't want to keep saying things that can be misconstrued," she begins. "And that's not your fault at all! Please don't think I'm blaming you. It's just... one of those things that happens. But it's something I would like to fix, if possible. What do you think?"

You bite your lip before answering; you're not sure what answer she wants. Hell, you're barely sure what she's even asking. "I... don't really know," you end up saying. "What are you suggesting?"

She's silent for so long you wonder if she actually heard you. "I..." she sighs again and looks away. Something about her seems so vulnerable in that moment. "I don't have many people I consider myself close to," she admits. "It's hard, being in my position, to make friends. It's not something I've ever been particularly good at, either. I'm... not a good person. But I want to be."

You're a little stumped. She... doesn't think she's a good person? That's preposterous! But you look in her eyes and you can see the truth there: she really... doesn't think she is.

You don't know what to say. Your mouth opens and closes a few times while you struggle to find words.

"Please- I didn't say that for any kind of... pity," she tells you. "Just... to let you know that I mess up sometimes and even though I can see myself doing it, I'm not quite sure how to stop it. And I can see it in your eyes when I say something that sounds bad, or that you take it in a way I didn't mean for it."

She really seems to be looking for some validation, so you say the first thing that comes to your head.

"It would take a hell of a lot to get me to dislike you, Elsa," you tell her. "And I mean... I'm not going to tell you that I haven't felt a little... put out by you sometimes. But I do always know that you don't mean it. We hashed that out weeks ago, didn't we?"

"I guess," she says quietly. There seems to be more that she wants to say, but either can't, or won't.

If it's important, you think, then she will. When she's ready.

"So," you say, moving on. No point in either of you dwelling. "You were going out?"

"Oh- y-yes. I can drop you off at home if you wanted, or..."

"Or?"

"Or... well, you- there's no need to part ways so soon. If- if you don't want to..."

Part of you is kind of ready to go home, but... home is always going to be there, waiting for you.

This is a chance, here and now, to maybe... make a friend. A proper friend. Because while both you and Elsa have made the suggestion before that perhaps you could be, it's never been anything either of you have ever been good at.

"Well, I suppose I am still technically on a bit of a holiday," you tell her. "What did you have in mind?"