Can you believe it? I'm alive! And back!
First of all, wow you guys. Thank you so much for the support. Like, you have no idea how much that means to me. Keep being awesome :)
Secondly, I am so sorry it has taken so long and that this chapter may be a disappointment, but I personally enjoyed finally typing this up. It's been floating in my head for months now (or at least it feels like it, I may be exaggerating) but it's finally here.
Hope you enjoy this you guys! Quite a lot of fluff, and sorry for the cliche and corny/cheesiness. I try and make everything as solid as I can, cause I hate cheesiness. I'm lactose intolerant ;)
I do not own anything! (Gosh, even though disclaimers are annoying, I'm so glad to be back, I even missed typing that out)
Hope ya like! P.s: This whole chapter is Elsa's POV
Elsa peered down at her feet, adorned in pearly white laced figure skates with gleaming silver blades made to carve ice into graceful swirls. She stood at the edge of the rink, one foot still grounded while the other was placed before her on the ice. Each of her dainty hands gripped the side of the rink's boundary boards, as though clutching for a life line.
"Aw, come on Elsa! Don't tell me you don't know how to skate!" Jack prodded, and the blonde sent an indignant glance to her companion.
She didn't bother responding to his impatience, and instead, traced her gaze down once more. In reality, Elsa had used to skate all the time. Growing up, her sister Anna would often wake her in early hours to escape to the pond that formed near their house and they would skate till their faces were cherry red, and their fingers frozen blue.
Well, not Elsa's anyway. Below average temperatures barely fazed her own piercing cold touch.
Still, they would then seat themselves inside and be treated to hot cocoa as their day of fun began. It was a time when innocence was still a part of her, a time when her parents were still alive, when she was naive enough to believe that her life would forever be a haven of happiness.
In her middle school years, when Anna moved to her Aunt's so Elsa could live home alone, she had obtained to wearing gloves by then, and avoiding all necessary contact from people. But this did not stop her from watching the Ice Skating Club perform practice at the open rink every day after school. For two hours she would observe every twist of grace and elegance that she longed to acquaint her own self with, and when everyone was gone, she did just that.
She sung her own songs and glided to her own rhythm. When she flew across the sheet of ice, she imagined her parents still cheering her on in the crowds. It was some of those solitary moments that kept her sanity intact.
Now though, she hadn't skated for over a year, discounting the brief moments she allowed herself the freedom of doing so before coming to Arendelle High.
In all honesty, she was shivering with excitement. To be on the ice again, how riveting it would feel...
It was then that the feeling of a soft touch lifted her chin from the ice and into a pair of concerned blue eyes. His colorless lips were pressed with worry as he searched her face. "Hey...you okay?"
Elsa blinked several times to register everything. His words, his face, his touch...
She froze. Crap, he was touching her.
Quickly, she jerked away from his hand and offered a small smile. "Yeah, yeah I'm fine. Sorry, just a little lost in thought. Let's skate."
Hastily, she moved passed him and pushed off with one foot, letting herself slide over the ice as she kept her gaze away from Jack. She had seen the crestfallen look when she had pulled back from his hand, but she had to convince herself that it would hurt him worse if he did touch her skin, and if she were to lose control. Brief moments of contact were okay, but anything farther could deem a catastrophe. She had allowed it too many times before and needed to stop. Being in such a cold environment more suited to her preference was helpful however, allowing her more control to her powers.
For this at least, she was grateful.
Turning around to see if Jack had crossed the rink yet, any further elation she had felt moments ago at the thought of skating, fell when she saw the look on his face. His eyes held rejection, and he looked as though he was grasping at straws of hope. Still, he fought for composure and turned to her with a forced smile as he approached her with solid side to side push-offs and stopped at her side; making sure to keep a distance of physical contact, she noticed.
Elsa felt her brows fall over her eyes as guilt stirred in her gut, followed by a demon called personal-hate.
Why do I hurt everyone no matter what I do? I try to keep them safe, and end up hurting them even more. It's...it's like Anna all over again. I can't keep doing this. But...what else can I do?
Her large crystal eyes looked down to her hands, then back to Jack.
Taking a deep breath, she reached forward and took one of his large hands in her small gloved ones, smiling at the surprised look that came over his face at this affection.
"Come on, let's skate."
Before he could question her sudden motives, she flew forward, the boy lagging until he got the memo and caught up to meet her slicing strides. Speeding in smooth motions across the slick surface, Elsa felt his hand begin to fully shift and conform to her own smaller palms.
And oh gosh, did she forget how wonderful a simple touch could feel.
Even in her younger days, Elsa had never been one on expressing through physical contact, much preferring a different love language that was compatible to her being more introverted in nature.
But after so long without any orchestrated meaningful touch, she could feel ice settle and knot in her gut from a twist of nerves and excitement. Dang, she needed to get that under control. Yet it felt wonderful, for a caring caress to brush the material that covered her skin. She was also pleased to see Jack's face brighten to an almost too white smile as they simultaneously came to a halt after absently looping around the ice several times. His smile suddenly shrunk into a serious expression as he faced her and abruptly used both hands to hold her one.
They both stood still, Elsa nearly holding her breath so he couldn't hear it shake as he glanced to her face, then back to her turquoise glove.
Slowly, she watched as one hand gently placed her palm horizontally flat to his, while the other stroked down her fingers and plucked at the clothe, pulling it in a motion that it began to loosen. Immediately, she stiffened and her breath caught in her throat as fear clouded her vision and she was set to yank it away.
Jack seemed to have sensed her muscles coil and halted his endeavors, his eyes reaching for hers once more as she turned her head away.
The blonde closed her eyes and took a shuddering breath. Damn, if she could just freakin' breath! The way his name came breathless from his lips sent her mind into a whirl wind of different emotions. And he even still had her glove, which, she reminded herself, she should really be pulling back and adjusting properly so he couldn't free her skin to the air.
Yet she just couldn't move. Couldn't find it in her to push his touch away, and so she stayed frozen.
Large blue eyes still closed, Elsa felt his hands continue the gentle pull on her glove, and this time, though still stiff, she let him.
And when the final feel of the material slipped from her fingertips and the air settled around her skin, her eyes snapped open in panic and she stared to where their he held her hand.
Her bare hand.
Fear overwhelmed. What had she been thinking?
As the thoughts and emotions crashed over her like a torrent, Elsa could feel the familiar spark of magic begin to stir within her, and knew that she was about to lost control. Her breath became short as she could already picture the look on his face; eyes wide with fear, backing away from her as the word 'monster' left his lips.
And all she could think was no.
Then she felt something and her eyes snapped to him.
There Jack stood, holding her loosely by the fingers and placing a chaste kiss to the back of her palm. His breath tickled her skin and his eyes were on her throughout the seconds that his mouth remained to her skin before he pulled away slowly.
Silence settled between them as they stared at one another.
It was not one of those moments where they got 'lost' in each others eyes, or romantically gazing to the others face in loving adoration. Instead, the steady quiet and the chilling stares were the two figures waiting. Waiting for the other to say something, for a sign. For anything.
Jack moved first, this time a bit quicker than before but no less steady, grabbing her other hand and peeling back the cloth like a caring parent would for a child's band-aid; and once the gloves were off, he deftly dropped them to the ground, letting them flutter to the ice.
Elsa didn't even look down to see where they went, for seeing her always adorned gloves, a symbol of her solitary life, her restraints and chains, would surely shatter her fragile hold on her emotions and the dam would break. So instead she watched the boy before her. Watched as he attentively lifted her dainty hands to his face and placed them on either side of his face.
Elsa's eyes fluttered in surprise before she let out a short laugh, though it sounded to her more like a suppressed sob. Her large eyes continued to watch him curiously as she fought to reign in different emotions of fear and doubt. He seemed to be aware that she was not used to touch, and so his own hands moved from her wrists and to her waist in such a gentle manner, she was sure she only felt it because she was hyper aware of every contact he made to her body. Then his forehead fell forward to hers.
Elsa's eyes were closed as she took in this moment, still shaking from the emotions. She felt his skin beneath the pads of her fingers, could feel every pressure he had to her body and she imprinted the moment to memory. It had been so long. Too long.
And there they stood. Her small hands cupping the juncture of his jaw and neck, his own holding her above her hips, and their foreheads pressed together as they each leveled their breathing to quiet the rush of drumming in their ears.