𝐓𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐓𝐨𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰

33 - Doors.

“Elsa?”

The blonde looked over her shoulder groggily. A whispered apology met her ear since he didn’t mean to disturb her sleep. Her vision was unsteady due to the outcome of her heavy slumber, still Elsa could sharply see his early choice of clothing six in the morning. Cotton sweat pants and a Nike hoodie, Aiden looked like he couldn’t waste anymore time to throw on something much more befitting for the outdoors.

She blinked warily. “Where are you off to?”

“I’ll just be out for some fresh air, I’ll be back before you know it.”

Oh. Now that she was partially conscious, his absence from her arms caused her to slightly frown in disappointment, but Aiden isn’t her property to control his free will. The designer smiled softly at her, sensing her reluctance. He bent down to peck her cheek, and now with a better angle, Elsa was finally aware of the folder of papers tucked in his arm.

She reached up her hand to his cheek, stroking its smoothness, “You’re working too hard love.”

Aiden shook his head without a word, flashing her a demure smile. He bowed his head lowly until it didn’t take too long for the door to close slowly, signifying his departure.

His momentary silence scared her sometimes. The silence could hide whatever emotion someone can have, because Elsa wanted to know. She wanted to know if he was happy, sad, enraged—she can’t take a hint if he keeps everything hidden and clogged in the shadows. Signs of sleep faded away in her features.

She desperately wanted to know, without invading his privacy. Thinking about it made it sound like the impossible. Up until now, Aiden is still sort of a mystery to her. Each bit of his behavior is both simple and complex, that alone makes her confused.

Goodness, can you get any worse? Elsa groaned to herself, he’s just going out for air and you dramatize it for crying out loud.

But she had her reasons, right? Reasonable reasons... That sounded silly. The last thing she wanted was a broken heart, and a tarnishing relationship left for none of them to mend. She was only striving to understand him, or anything going on with him down beneath, after all HE understood her so well. In her eyes, he was more than perfect to her.

Another reason why she was afraid of the silence. Elsa felt like a tall door was looming in front of her, untouched, restricted; locked.

She just wished for Aiden to let her in soon.

Love’s an open door, after all.

•••

Meanwhile, Aiden thought it lacked color. Or ruffles. Or sequins. He pursed his lips in thought, not entirely understanding himself if he was actually satisfied or everything needed more to surpass his sense of satisfaction. For him, designing basically depended on the very artist. It was up to him if it was too loaded or too colorful. It was up to him if it was too monochrome—and it was also up to him if it just looked like plain crap.

Aiden hated it.

Anything to his eyes lacked something, while in somebody else’s perspective he was doing a great job, his handiwork is immaculate and praised and perfect. “Laurant, those don’t need drafts,” “No wonder Miss Arendelle placed you on that seat.”