The snickerdoodles were neatly plated, arranged in perfectly balanced pyramids; the gingerbread men were set aside on a rack so that each painstakingly iced smile could dry; the chocolate chip cookies had just come out of the oven and were still filling the air in the kitchen with the comforting scent of brown sugar and melting chocolate, but still Anna was scowling as she wrestled with the lump of dough on the counter.
“Come on ,” she muttered under her breath, brushing away a loose strand of hair with the back of her hand. “Just lie flat .”
She’d been in the kitchen for hours already and had found herself in a nice rhythm, humming to herself as she’d stirred and scooped and spread bowl after bowl of dough and icing, but now it seemed that the most important item on her list was about to ruin absolutely everything.
No , she thought determinedly to herself as she set down the rolling pin briefly to rub at her hands; her fingers were starting to get stiff from all the mixing and kneading. You’re the Queen. You saved Arendelle and your sister, you brought down the dam and freed the forest, and now you’re running a whole kingdom. One stupid bowl of dough can’t defeat you.
With renewed zeal, she slathered the pin with another fistful of flour, making sure to cover every inch of the wood, before attacking the dough again. A tiny smile appeared at the corner of her mouth; she could do this, conquer any difficulties in her path, make everything perfect for--
She didn’t glance up from her work. “Hi, honey, just a second--”
“How long have you been in here?”
She shrugged, brow creasing again as she focused on keeping the dough in a perfectly even rectangle; this was her third attempt, and she wasn’t going to let even her fiance distract her now. “Oh, just a few hours. Just trying to finish everything up!”
“Anna, it’s five in the morning.”
This time she did spare Kristoff a glance before turning to pick up the bowl full of cinnamon and sugar. “Is it that late already? Sorry, I was really trying to get the cinnamon rolls ready in time to surprise you with breakfast, but…”
She bit her lip, focusing on the bowl in front of her as she carefully poured melted butter into it. She didn’t look up at him again, not even when she heard him walk from the doorway to stand beside her at the counter, nor when he laid a gentle hand on her back.
“You’re still in the dress you were wearing last night.”
“Well, y’know, it’s pretty comfy, at least compared to some of my other ones. Like the one I wore for the ceremony the other day, now that one I couldn’t wait to get out of. But this one, it’s...it’s…”
She faltered, for once at a loss for words. She stirred the mixture in the bowl for longer than was really necessary, but Kristoff still didn’t say anything. Finally, unable to bear it any longer, she dared to look up at him, unsure of what to expect.
He was just watching her, brow furrowed. He was still in his pajamas, his disheveled hair falling in his eyes, jaw covered with light blond stubble; he couldn’t have been up for long if he hadn’t even shaved yet. Anna was struck with the sudden desire to lean up, cup his face in her hands, and kiss him until he stopped looking at her with that concern in his eyes; she was halfway to doing so before she realized she still had flour all over her hands and started to pull away. Kristoff caught her wrist anyway and pressed a soft kiss to her palm before releasing it.
“You couldn’t sleep,” he said, and she nodded hesitantly before sheepishly looking away, returning her focus to the half-finished cinnamon rolls.
Since coming back from the forest, since the engagement and coronation and everything else that came with it, they had both been making more of an effort to talk things through, to share their thoughts and feelings, even when it scared them. And things had been good, really good, and she knew that right now she was messing that up, but her chest felt tight somehow, like her heart was locked in a cage, and she didn’t know how she could manage to get the words out to explain herself, even if she had known what she wanted to say in the first place. Her hand quavered slightly as she started spooning filling onto the rectangle of dough, and she prayed Kristoff didn’t notice the tremor, or the way she was starting to sniffle, or the way a fat tear suddenly plopped onto the countertop.
Kristoff stepped away from her then. Not surprising, really; he was probably frustrated with her failure to explain herself and was going back upstairs to sleep until a reasonable hour. She bit down on her lip hard, trying to keep more tears from spilling over. It was just like her to mess things up yet again, and on Christmas of all days…
And then he was beside her again; she looked up in surprise to see a wooden spoon in his grasp. “Can I help?”
All she could do was nod.
He began working alongside her, carefully spreading the filling over the dough until the bowl was empty. “Now what?”
“Now we roll. Here, you take that end, and I’ll take this one...just keep it tight…”
He complied with her every order, and soon several pans full of cinnamon rolls were covered with clean cloths and set aside to rise. Anna began cleaning up the mess, scrubbing the bowls and wiping the counters and half expecting Kristoff to leave her to it; after all, he wasn’t the one who had made such a mess.
But he stayed, and he helped, not pausing until the kitchen was spotless once again.
For a moment, Anna just stood still, glancing around the room and almost hoping to find another mess to clean up. Anything that would let her put off talking things through. It was pathetic, and she knew it. And Kristoff had to know it, too. He was probably kicking himself for deciding to wander down here and getting involved-- honestly, he was probably regretting a lot of things that had led him to this point. Anna couldn’t blame him; after all, she was doing a really terrible job of...well, right now, it felt like everything.
“Sorry,” she whispered, wishing she was able to offer a better explanation.
But somehow, Kristoff didn’t seem to mind. He pulled her into a hug, and she let herself be enveloped by his broad arms and familiar warmth. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and whispered, “You haven’t done anything wrong. There’s nothing to be sorry for.”
She hesitated, unsure of how to respond. “It...feels like I did.”
Somehow, just by saying that, the tightness in her chest loosened just a fraction. The exhaustion of staying up all night in a baking frenzy suddenly hit her, and she couldn’t help but yawn.
Kristoff’s arms tightened around her. “Can I tell you something?”
“Of course. Always.”
“I couldn’t really sleep, either. That’s why I was down here so early.”
He was quiet at first, and she stole a glance upwards, surprised to see that he looked as nervous about admitting the truth as she was. Then he took a deep breath and met her gaze, seeming to draw strength from it.
“I want this Christmas to be perfect. And I’m worried I’ll mess it up.”
Anna was stunned. How could he feel that way when he had already done so much? He’d done so much for her, for her family, for Arendelle ; he of all people deserved to simply sit back and enjoy the holiday. “Kristoff, nothing you could do would mess Christmas up. I’m just so, so happy to have you here with me.”
She was surprised when he shook his head. “I could say the exact same thing to you.”
“But it’s different. I’m the one who-- well-- I wanted to have, you know, all the normal holiday stuff, except I guess I still don’t really know what normal is, so I figured I could start a new normal for us, and that I might as well start with Christmas cookies, and then I wanted to surprise you with breakfast, and then whatever else you wanted, really, and--”
Another yawn overtook her. Why was she so sleepy all of a sudden?
“Is that why you couldn’t sleep?”
“Yes, exactly. We’ve been so busy I had no time to do all the baking in advance, and it was sort of my last chance, so I figured...well…”
“I wasn’t talking about the cookies. Well, not really, anyway…”
Anna found it hard to look at him again, so instead, she buried her face in his chest and whispered, “I know.”
He pulled her closer, rubbing comforting circles on her back. “I know you want it to be perfect. But Anna, as much as I love your baking, that’s not what would make the day perfect. Honestly, I don’t think we could even eat all of this stuff, even when Elsa gets here. Not even if Sven helped us.”
She laughed weakly. “Well, I have other stuff planned, too…”
He chuckled softly, and she closed her eyes, relishing the way his chest vibrated against her cheek. “Maybe we have time for some of the rest of that. And we definitely have time for at least some of these cookies. But for now, what would really make this morning perfect for me would be if you got some sleep.”
“But the cinnamon rolls--”
“They can wait. At least while you take a nap.”
“You said you couldn’t sleep, either.”
“Fine, while we take a nap.”
He pulled away and took her hand, leading her upstairs. He paused in front of the sitting room door, a questioning gaze in his eyes. Anna smiled softly; they were both still learning the rules of royal etiquette, but honestly-- they were engaged, it was Christmas, and she was suddenly too sleepy to care what anyone thought. “We can go to my room.”
An answering smile appeared on his face as they continued down the hall. He swung the door to her chambers open, gesturing grandly. “After you, Your Majesty.”
Anna laughed and led the way to her bedroom. It certainly wasn’t his first time being in here, but he still hesitated in the doorway, a faint blush creeping over his cheeks as he resolutely looked away while she changed into her pajamas.
“You can look now,” she teased as she clambered into bed. Kristoff climbed in next to her, pulling the covers carefully over her shoulders before settling an arm over her waist.
“I love you,” he whispered, and she smiled sleepily, eyes already sliding shut.
“Love you, too,” she tried to say, but sleep overtook her before she quite managed to get the words out.
Scooch in, cuddle close, talk about your crippling fear of abandonment!
When Anna woke up, Kristoff was snoring. She held back a giggle as she carefully extracted herself from his arms, just enough that she could prop herself up on one elbow and get a better look at his sleeping face.
He was gorgeous, as always, but when he slept there was an unreserved softness to his features, a softness she usually only got fleeting glimpses of when she surprised him with a kiss. She loved seeing him this way; it was as if the gruff, icy exterior that he still clung to-- though with less tenacity than he used to-- melted completely away, leaving only the kind, gentle heart she knew and loved so well.
Delicately, she reached out a pinky and stroked it down the length of his nose, once, twice, the way her mother had used to when Anna had insisted she wasn’t sleepy. He stirred slightly, and for a moment she froze, worried she’d woken him, but he stilled again, and she let out the breath she’d been holding in a quiet sigh. She continued her gentle exploration of his face, letting her fingers trace the tops of his cheekbones, trail over the curve of his jaw, brush the hair off his forehead. Growing up so lonely in the castle, she had read hundreds of stories about love and how grand and awe-inspiring and utterly magical it could be, and she’d dreamed of finding love like that, of the last-minute proclamations, the pounding hearts and bated breath, the thrill of love at first sight and the epic journey to happy ever after.
She’d had those moments with Kristoff, the ones she would have swooned over as a little girl alone in a library. But now she realized that sometimes love, even the truest love, was quiet and tender and warm and familiar and somehow it was even better than even the stories she’d read a dozen times over.
She ran her fingers lightly over the outline of his lips, feeling them curve into a smile beneath her touch.
“Hey,” she murmured.
“Hey, yourself,” he said with a yawn.
“I didn’t mean to wake you up.”
“I’m glad you did,” he said playfully, reaching up to pull her close enough to kiss her soundly. She responded enthusiastically, then pulled away with a laugh.
“I’ve got morning breath!”
“So do I,” he said, leaning in to kiss her again. She gave in for a few more moments before pulling away with a gasp.
“The cinnamon rolls! I completely forgot!”
“They’ll be fine.”
“But they’ll rise too high, and then they’ll be ruined .”
“No, they won’t.”
“But what if they are?”
“Then we still have a million cookies,” he reminded her.
She bit her lip, knowing she wouldn’t be able to escape A Conversation for much longer. “I know you love cinnamon rolls. I-- I really did want to surprise you with breakfast in bed.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “I do love cinnamon rolls. But not enough for you to lose sleep over them.”
Here it was, then. She took a deep breath. You can do this, Anna , she reminded herself. It’s Kristoff. You can talk to him about anything.
“I just-- um. Well. I felt like...like I owed it to you. A perfect Christmas, I mean. And cinnamon rolls were a big part of that. The cookies, too. And the-- the other stuff. But that’s already ready. At least, it should be. Unless I forgot about something, which I--”
Kristoff took her hand and squeezed it, something he’d started doing when he realized she was rambling not for joy or excitement but because she was afraid. Afraid of what, she didn’t always know, but it never failed to calm her down at least a little.
She laid down next to him again, so close that their noses nearly brushed against each other. Neither of them spoke for a long moment, but she was starting to learn to be okay with that, even when they were in the middle of a difficult conversation.
“I told you I felt the same way, right? While we were baking?”
She nodded slightly.
“I guess-- I guess sometimes, for me anyway, it feels like I have to prove myself to you. Like I have to make up for the times when I’ve let you down. But...is that how you feel, too?”
“Yeah,” she admitted. “Like if I can just do enough stuff, it’ll make up for the times I didn’t do enough. I don’t...I don’t ever want you to doubt how much I love you. Because I know how that feels, like when I--” Her breath caught in her throat, but she forced herself to keep talking. “Like when I thought you left, back in the forest.”
“And when I thought you left.”
They were quiet again for a long moment, then suddenly both started speaking at once.
“It was only because--”
Anna laughed sheepishly. “You go first.”
He shook his head, reaching up to run a hand through her hair. “As scary as that was, I think...I think maybe it was for the best. Because I know you a little better because of it. And I know that if we just talk instead of assuming things, a lot of scary stuff like that just...doesn’t happen.”
Anna pondered this for a minute. When she had been alone in the caves, thinking that on top of losing Elsa and Olaf, she’d been abandoned by Kristoff too, it had been hard to imagine anything scarier. Years of isolation, of wondering why her sister wouldn’t talk to her anymore or if she would ever taste real freedom again-- that had been hard. But thinking she had overcome all of that, found love in so many new ways, only to have it ripped from her in one terrible afternoon-- that had been scarier than anything she’d ever faced before, even things that came from the Southern Isles with the worst of intentions. And if she had known Kristoff hadn’t really left her, that in only a few minutes he would be right there beside her, doing everything in his power to help her do what needed to be done-- those hours of darkness, though still excruciating, would have been so much easier to bear.
Kristoff squeezed her hand again, and she blinked, realizing she’d been staring off into space. She refocused on him, then leaned forward to kiss the crease between his eyebrows. “Sorry. I was just thinking about that.”
“It’s okay if you don’t agree--” he started quickly, but she shook her head.
“No, you’re right. I’m glad we’re practicing the talking thing. I mean, I’ve always talked plenty for the both of us, so you’d think I’d be better at it, right? But it’s good that we’re working on, you know, the other stuff. To talk about, I mean. And it does make it a lot less scary. I know now that you-- that you won’t…”
She trailed off, suddenly self-conscious again.
“That I won’t abandon you?”
She nodded, basking in the joy of being known and understood-- and loved not in spite of it, but because of it. “And I’m not going anywhere, either.”
Kristoff grinned. “In that case,” he said cheekily, “Why don’t we stay here a little longer?”
After shooing Kristoff out of her room so that she could actually get ready for the day, Anna had to take a moment to sit on the edge of her bed, close her eyes, and smile dopily at the door he’d just closed, promising to meet her downstairs in ten minutes. Somehow, despite all the anticipation and hard work that had led up to Christmas, she found herself wishing that they could just spend the entire day in bed, talking and kissing and doing whatever else they had a mind to do. Especially now that she’d learned Christmas morning “whatever else” was an absolutely wonderful way to start the day.
Already she was realizing that, as Queen of Arendelle, the best part of holidays wasn’t all the pageantry and celebration; rather, it was the fact that every family had its own tradition that they kept at home-- meaning that for once, she could get an entire day, or at least most of one, to just be Anna again. She didn’t blame Elsa for leaving, but she certainly did envy her sister sometimes.
Her sister who was coming today-- who had promised to come. Anna’s eyes flew open, and she bounced straight from her bed to the wardrobe, flinging it open in search of one of her new winter dresses. Being queen had meant her wardrobe had suddenly tripled in size, in more ways than one; not only did she have more gowns than she could ever hope to wear, many of them were horrendously unwieldy. Luckily, there was no reason for her to wear a more formal gown today, and if there had been, there would have been no one to help her get it on; she’d sent the servants home the day before to enjoy the holidays with their own families. Instead, she pulled out a simple green dress, one that swished to just above her ankles, and pulled it on with a contented sigh. She ran a brush through her hair, not bothering to braid it, and darted towards the door, only to turn back a moment later and dive under her bed.
The Christmas tree-- the one that was just for them, not the whole rest of the kingdom-- had been up in the sitting room for weeks now, but Anna had stubbornly refused to put her gifts under the tree in advance. “Olaf will peek at them! You know how he is,” she had insisted stubbornly, even when Kristoff laughed.
She had been vindicated a few days later when she had heard a shout from the room and had run in to find Kristoff glowering at a snowman who was trying and failing to pretend he hadn’t just been caught shaking every box under the tree to try and hear what was inside.
Smiling at the memory, she fumbled under the bed for a moment before pulling out a stack of three brightly wrapped boxes. They had agreed on handmade gifts this year. It had been her idea-- well, really, they had all been thinking it, but she had had a feeling the others would be too embarrassed to bring it up themselves. Kristoff had his salary from ice harvesting, of course, but now that Elsa lived in the woods and Olaf was, well, Olaf , the gift giving situation was a little trickier than it had been in previous years. What were they supposed to give a queen-- and what was she supposed to give them that wouldn’t leave them feeling self-conscious?
But now she was the one feeling a bit self-conscious; baking she could do, but she’d had to ask for help making these things, and after multiple failed attempts, all three gifts were rather less ambitious than she’d initially planned.
“Well, it’s the thought that counts, anyway,” she muttered under her breath as she scrambled upright and headed out into the hallway. She peered into the sitting room; to her surprise, she found it empty. Kristoff had left ten minutes ago, and it never took him more than five to get ready; where was he?
She caught a whiff of cinnamon and realized exactly where he was. Grinning, she tossed her presents haphazardly under the tree and flew back out of the room and down the stairs, following her nose.
He was in the kitchen, staring intently at the oven and nervously tapping his toe. For a minute, she lingered in the doorway, drinking in the sight of him; he was wearing a simple white shirt, tucked into black pants that were just fitted enough to afford her an excellent view when he leaned down to open the oven and peer at what was inside.
She wolf-whistled, and he jumped, the oven door slamming shut with a bang. “Anna! I didn’t hear you come in!” he said, still looking startled.
She laughed and ran towards him, looping her arms around his neck to pull him down for a kiss on the cheek. “Sorry, honey, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“You’re forgiven,” he said, a faint blush creeping across his cheeks. Anna smirked; she loved that after three years, he still got that sweet, stunned expression when she surprised him with a kiss.
“Are those the cinnamon rolls? They didn’t rise too much, did they?”
He shook his head. “No, at least I don’t think so. So I figured I would finish baking them. But then, uh..then I realized I don’t know how long they’re supposed to bake. So I’m just watching them now until they look...less...not done. I think. That’s how they’re supposed to look, right?”
Anna nodded solemnly. “Yes, usually you want things to look less not-done before you put them in your mouth.”
“So, um...how long is that?”
“For these, about fifteen minutes.”
“It’s been about five...so I guess we have time to kill, huh?”
He put a hand to her waist, drawing her closer to him, and she came to him more than willingly. His fingers trailed lazily up and down her side, making her breath catch. She stood on her toes, leaning close enough to him that their bodies were just barely pressed together, and tilted her mouth close to his ear, delighting in the way his Adam’s apple bobbed when her lips barely brushed against his skin.
“Just enough time to...make the icing,” she said sweetly before pulling away with a merry laugh. He groaned in response and followed after her, wrapping his arms around her waist as she pulled out the ingredients and a mixing bowl.
“If you’re going to be this close, you might as well help me stir,” Anna said with a laugh, handing him a wooden spoon before drizzling milk over the powdered sugar in the bowl. He complied, though he still kept one arm wrapped securely around her waist. Anna smiled, relishing the feel of his broad chest pressed against her back, so close she thought she could feel his heartbeat. Her smile turned wicked as she realized that making the icing had only taken two minutes, which meant there was still plenty of time for--
“There you are!”
She loved Olaf, she really did, but he had the absolute worst sense of timing.
HAHA i'm trash and this was going to be a 4 chapter fic but then i got started on this one that was supposed to be like two paragraphs and then i was like "oh shoot this needs its own thing" and then i thought it would be hilarious to end with Olaf being Olaf so ANYWAY
But more importantly!!! Here is the cinnamon roll recipe I use, and the one I'm basing all the baking stuff in this fic on: https://thepioneerwoman.com/cooking/cinammon_rolls_/
Use it carefully. This recipe can and will make people fall in love with you. I am 100% serious when I tell you I bake these when I either 1. want to show someone how much I love them or 2. need to convince people to agree with me.
And it always works.
This is it, Kristoff thought, burying his head in his hands. You gave it your best shot, but some things just aren’t meant to be. Time to man up and admit it.
A knock came at the door. “Honey? Can I come in?”
“Just a minute,” he called weakly.
“Are you sick? You sound sick. Do you want some tea?"
“I’m f-- uh, I mean, yeah, I really don’t feel too well. Sorry, but I think I’ll have to miss the ceremony.”
He should have known better than to expect Anna to accept this answer and leave him alone. Instead, only a few seconds later, he heard the door creak open, then felt the mattress sink as she perched on the edge of the bed next to him. He couldn’t bring himself to look up at her, even when he felt her rest a hand on his shoulder.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice so gentle it somehow managed to make him feel even worse.
He shook his head. He couldn’t bear the thought of disappointing her, but he also had no idea how he could deal with the embarrassment that would come with escorting her to the New Year’s Eve ceremony. It had been one thing to go as her escort and to cheer with her when Elsa gave her little speech, to take her hand and dance with her when all the official parts were over and done with, but now that Anna was the queen and they were engaged, apparently he was expected to be right up on stage with her. Which currently made running from rock giants seem like a cheerful stroll through the park.
When he didn’t respond, Anna tugged gently at his arm until he lifted it; she ducked under it and snuggled close to his side, nuzzling her nose against his neck. He let his arm drop, curling it around her shoulders to hold her closer.
“You look really nice in your new suit,” she said, and he tried not to wince.
“You’re just saying that,” he muttered.
She shook her head emphatically, her hair tickling his chin. “No, I’m serious. I mean, you always look amazing, obviously, but it looks really nice. I promise.”
He reached up with his free hand to tug awkwardly at his collar. “I don’t think it looks right on me.”
“Does it feel too tight? Because that might have been my fault, I did mention to the tailor I thought tight pants looked really good on you.”
“Please tell me you’re kidding.”
“Yes. Maybe. Okay, I said you liked your suits to be more fitted, but really, can you blame me? Have you seen yourself?”
“That’s the problem, Anna,” he said, and the teasing smile fell from her face.
“What’s really bothering you?” she asked, sitting up so she could look him in the eye. He just shook his head, avoiding her gaze.
“Don’t worry about it. I just-- I think it’s better if I stay here tonight while you go do your thing. Then in the morning, we can have breakfast together, and you can tell me all about it, okay?”
“Kristoff, look at me.”
He hated this, hated disappointing her; but he had a nasty feeling that doing just that was going to become a regular occurrence, even more so once they were married. But at least that was better than embarrassing her. His shoulders drooped in defeat as he stared down at his hands, hoping she’d take the hint and leave him. She’d be upset, and he deserved that, but surely after seeing how smoothly the whole ceremony went without him, she’d forgive him.
Instead, Anna reached down and took one of his hands in both of her own. “It’s okay to be nervous,” she said, her voice soft. “And it’s okay if you’re so nervous you can’t do the ceremony with me.”
She was offering him a way out, and he desperately wanted to take it. It would be so easy to just nod and let her go, to have her make excuses for him, say he had a headache or something. Instead he took a deep breath, then turned to rest his forehead against hers.
“It’s just-- I don’t want to mess it up,” he admitted. “By being, you know...me.”
“But I love me. I mean you.”
He chuckled weakly. “I-- I know. But you’re so...you. So good at being queen. Everyone loves you, and I don’t want to get up there and...you know. Look so...out of place. I’m just some guy from the mountains, I don’t know how to do all this-- this ceremonial stuff.”
Anna was quiet. She turned his hand over and held it gently in one of her own, while with the other she traced the lines on his palm, the creases at his knuckles, the old white scars that criss-crossed here and there. He hadn’t realized that his heart had been pounding, but as she caressed his skin he felt it slow, felt some of the tension drain from his shoulders.
Finally she spoke. “I know it’s hard to be thrown into this suddenly. It’s scary for me, too, to go from being on the sidelines to being in charge. But I don’t ever want you to think that you’re not enough. Without you, without everything you’ve done for me, Arendelle probably wouldn’t even be here any more.”
“That’s not true.”
“It is,” she insisted. “If you hadn’t helped me get up the mountain, then helped me get back here...if you hadn’t saved me from the rock giants...probably a million other things...Kristoff, I owe you my life. And the whole kingdom owes you a massive ‘thank you’.”
He curled his hand around hers. “You did most of the hard work by yourself. You’re the hero, Anna. I was just your ride.”
“You don’t have to cut yourself down to lift me up.”
He blinked, stunned. Was that really what she thought he was doing?
“I mean it, Kristoff,” she said, reading his expression. “You’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met.”
“But I’m just--”
“You’re not just anything. You never have been.”
She pressed a soft kiss to his lips, and he closed his eyes, letting the warmth of her sink deep into him, letting it chase away the doubts that were always so quick to creep into his mind.
“I just...don’t feel like I know what I’m doing,” he confessed. “I don’t even know if I put this suit on right.”
She leaned back, examining him carefully. After a moment’s consideration, she smoothed his collar, then nodded, satisfied. “No, you look perfect.”
“For a mountain man, anyway.”
“For anyone. But mostly perfect for me.”
“Will you still think that if I trip and fall going up there? Or if I mix up important people’s names? Or if I--”
She cut him off. “Yes. Always yes.”
He took a deep breath. “Do I ever have to wear this suit again?”
“Not unless you want to. You don’t even have to wear it this time if it’s making you that nervous.”
“So you wouldn’t care if I wore my old ice harvesting clothes up there?”
“I wouldn’t care if you wore your grass cloak, or your pajamas, or if you were absolutely naked. What matters to me is that you’re there with me. Actually-- I take that back. I like being the only one who gets to see you naked.”
He couldn’t help but laugh. “I-- okay, fine. Maybe I can do this. I don’t have to talk or anything, right?”
Anna shook her head. “Just smile and wave. Well, and kiss me at the end of the countdown. Only if you want to, though.”
A slow smile spread across his face. “When have I ever not wanted to kiss you?”
“Well, you could be kissing me right now, but you’re--”
Kristoff didn’t let her finish her sentence. She didn’t seem to mind.
Because kristoff deserves the world and anna wants to make sure he knows it!!!!!
Thanks for reading along with this self-indulgent pile of nonsense :) writing it definitely filled the "Kristoff and Anna need to talk more!!!" void in my heart (at least a little) and I hope it did the same for you!