"This sight is the most beautiful thing, it makes my chest ache." She whispered. "Yeah." I said. I wasn't even looking at what fascinated her. I was looking at what fascinated me. Her.

Elsa has pushed away her sister for the sake of her protection, and her parents, the only people she thought could understand her powers, had died years ago in a tragic storm at sea. She's alone. Or so she thought. One day, a white-haired boy in a blue sweater swooped in and changed her life. Literally.

The utter most inner thoughts and feelings of one who has but no other way to express them and therefore without a pen a paper she very much may spontaneously combust in an explosion of secrets bottled up for far far too long. : )