Domicile

zero: warmth

There was this silence between them, the reindeer king and the snow queen, staring deeply into each other’s eyes. Blue to hazel, there was no flicker nor was there any movement. Just the sound of their breaths as the room ceased to chill. Her heart pounded in her chest as blood rushed to her cheeks, scarlet and snow white a perfect combination, complimenting her eyes, the windows to her soul. All she could hear was her heart rapping heavily like an impatient hand to a door. Her breath caught in her throat, she tried to avoid his stare, but unfortunately, just like he was, she was compelled to stay in between the spell.

He moved, but the spell remained still, stubbornly sitting between the both of them, pulling them into some emotional mess they weren’t supposed to be in. He held her stare, just like how he held her the first time she cried into his arms, the first time when he was allowed to be her friend. The first time he realized she was vulnerable still, and the first time someone had liquidated whatever ice he had in his severed heart. It was the first time he realized that he wasn’t as numb as he thought he was despite the sister – the one who he was supposed to marry – enabling the feelings he thought he lost. It confused him to the very inch of his bone.

He placed his calloused hands around her waist, lifting her, their eyes still locked – surprisingly. But, upon feeling the warmth against her skin – which was surprising since she had a corset underneath her clothing – she broke the spell and looked away, the protest clear.

She seemed to have lost her voice as his grip grew firm, as his hands molded on her curves. It was as if it fit. “I…” She swallowed, the lump growing more. “What are you doing?” It came as cold as the wintry breeze of November, a slap to the cheek that went through the core. She didn’t mean to sound so cold.

He shivered at that, but he kept his hands, the grip the same, the warmth growing warmer if that was even possible. But with that slap, he awoke from his trance and from his fantasies he wasn’t aware he was having. He tried to find his voice underneath the layers of what revealed itself to be infatuation.

He bit his lip and released it as fast as lightning. “The book,” he fixed his gaze on the book she was trying to reach moments ago before the spell started.

Albeit his gaze was on the antiquated book, he knew she was giving him a look as it felt like prickles on the side of his face.

“I thought you needed a lift.” He said awkwardly as he lifted her. It was luck he had when she obliged and reached for the book.

Elsa folded her arms around the book she was allegedly reaching for, her tongue on the inside of her cheek. “You could’ve just reached it on your own, instead of…” She trailed off as she stared down at the book, her heart beating like the festive drums in one of Arendelle’s special occasions.

He opened his mouth to answer, but nothing came out. Of course, he could have reached for the book himself. With this, he found himself under that spell again. It was his turn to swallow the elephant in his throat as a line of sweat dribbled from his forehead to his lips. Time slowed, and everything was frozen into place.

She sucked in a deep breath as she tried to look away again, but unfortunately – or was it fortunately – she found herself trapped albeit she didn’t feel trapped at all. She felt as if she was sailing beneath the blankets of the evening diamonds. An unexplainable feeling of home, which was he. He became her sehsuncht.  Time slowed, everything slowed as they stayed as if there was nothing else to do but gawk and drown themselves into the puddles of their own meddling thoughts.

She shouldn’t be feeling this way. Not that she had no right, but because he was Kristoff. Not that there was anything wrong with Kristoff, but because he wasn’t hers. With her ethics, she could never steal someone under somebody’s nose – particularly her sister’s. It was out of character, it was stupid. Thus, she had beaten her sister down to the core too much. But, it was not like she was stealing him, anyway.

“I’ve been prancing around the castle and turning tables just to find the both of you.” A familiar voice beamed, her breath ragged, the sweat clear in her voice. She let out a small laugh as Kristoff and Elsa turned their heads in unison to greet her with looks as if they were caught doing something illicit. “Gerda kept on blabbering about the wedding and,” she sucked in a breath “stuff.”

Elsa beamed; the smile out of character as her grip tightened on the book. “Looks like a subject you two should be talking about. I…” She trailed off and etched another painstaking smile. “I better go. I have a lot of work to do. See you in dinner?” The question was left unanswered as she walked away from the both of them.

She could still feel his fingers on her waist.