~𝒩𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝐿𝑒𝓉 𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝒢𝑜~

11. If These Icy Walls Could Talk

[Published 20 minutes before midnight! I made it! Over 5,100 words in this chapter and it's a lot of feels. Good luck!]
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(Y/N)'s POV

"What is the true story of the Ice Queen?" I say, my voice unwavering. "I want answers. That is what I want."

A thunderstorm of tension crackles in the atmosphere as heavy storm clouds of silence flood the bedroom. The hairs on my neck rise, as if the suspense is charging the air, ready to give way to a lightning strike. However, a targeted thunderbolt is not the current danger. Instead, it is the Queen sitting beside me, the dipped mattress shifting with her movements as she slowly retracts her chilly touch from my hand.

Elsa places the lilac bag on the bed beside her, then clenches her fists at her side.

Anger and perhaps disappointment reflect in those intense, icy blues.

Through my nose, I suck in a breath, filling my leaden chest with the charged air. My once-brimming confidence is now a mere trickle, and the height difference between the queen and me is suddenly quite palpable.

We both remain sitting on the mattress, but even while seated, Elsa still towers over me like the powerful queen she is.

"That's all you want?" The Ice Queen implores with an underlying tone of bitterness in her voice.

Elsa's Point Of View

I don't know what I hoped for by asking her to be so bold, so why do I feel disappointed in her response?

I let her in, and I expected something—hoped for something more than this. I was even so courageous as to touch her, albeit that small touch of her skin sent a euphoria of icy blasts through my veins. Addicting—that is what her touch is like. I just couldn't help but gasp and pleasurably shiver when feeling her exposed flesh. And I'm not oblivious; I noticed (Y/N) shivered as well. Whatever this feeling is, she must feel it too.

Now, (Y/N)'s (e/c) eyes are wide, mirroring her sudden shift of fear.

At the moment, her fear isn't as delicious as it usually is. Quite the contrary, more often than not, the taste of her fear in the air has me close to salivating; however, now, her negative emotions toward me taste bitter, making me want to recoil at the idea of hurting her and instead pounce in front of me to protect her from myself.

Even after the two days apart from my little penguin, I can't break this sort of bond with her. What the bond means is what I don't understand.

Harboring these peculiar feelings toward (Y/N) are dangerous, I realize. Dangerous toward the mindset I have created, that being alone (Olaf aside) is what I desire. For this doe-eyed maiden to just waltz into my castle, my life, my mind, and maybe even my heart—it's—it's—maddening.

I clench and unclench my tingling fingers, which remain at my sides, repressing the magic that lusts to be out in the air. A lust to release my frustration. But letting out my powers would do nothing good at the moment.

As if to reel myself back to sanity, Olaf's earlier words echo in my mind.

'Let her in.' He had pleaded with such hope and sincerity in his eyes.

I sweep a hand through my hair and exhale a large breath, slowly placating the restless monster under my skin.

(Y/N) wants answers; alright, I can do that, or at least try to. If exposing and clarifying my past will make my little penguin stay, it's a vulnerable risk I'm willing to take.

(Y/N)'s POV

The Ice Queen clears her throat, the distress in her eyes becoming less angry and more vulnerable.