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“Yeah, I’ll make it. Stop worrying, jeez,” Anna tries hard not to scoff or sound rude. It is the birthday boy she’s talking to, after all. “Is Kristoff bringing any?”
“I dunno. He said he was going to bring a few joints, but you know how stingy he is.”
She can almost hear him rolling his eyes over the phone. “There, there. He isn’t the best at rolling them anyway. Let me grind up what I have left and roll up a few myself, yeah?” Anna pulls out a very conspicuous-looking shoebox from under her bed. Within it is yet another conspicuous-looking metal cookie box.
“Oof. Bringing edibles and joints? Damn, Anna. You’re a saint.”
She chuckles. “Just making up for the fact that I didn’t get you a gift.”
“Eh. Who needs a gift when you got weed?” Hans says.
“Not like you’re going to remember who gave you what when you’re high, anyway. Right?”
“Exactly,” Hans laughs. Then, all of a sudden, his tone becomes serious. “Hey, Anna…”
She raises a brow. “What?”
“Do you think, uh, you can invite your… erm…” He swallows, “… Hot sister?”
“Hot—” she splutters. “Elsa?!”
“Do you have another hot sister?”
“N—that’s not the point!” Anna cries. “Get your hands off my sister!”
“Whoa. Calm down with your sister complex. I didn’t even do anything yet. No wonder they all say you’re fucking your own sister. ”
She grits her teeth, trying her very best to suppress the need to lash out on him. It’s a good thing they’re just on the phone and not video call, because Anna knows for a fact that she’s red as hell right now which would, without a doubt, incentivize this asshole to make fun of her even more. God, that rumour about the sister thing flies around a lot, but to hear it from Hans? From one of her closest friends? It’s infuriating.
But.
It’s his birthday. She’ll let him go. Just this once.
“Elsa’s not going to be interested. She’s never been the partying type. And if she found out that I’m doing weed? Yeesh.”
“Huh. I always knew that she was boring,” he muses. “But that doesn’t make her any less hot.”
This guy’s—ugh. God. He’s so gross. “Hans, I said—”
“Get my hands off your sister. Yes, yes. I know,” he laughs. “Anyway, how long are you going to be? Let’s smoke a joint before the others arrive.”
She glances at the time on her phone. “Soon, I said. Actually, I should check on your brownies. I think they should be done soon. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Aight. Don’t set anything on fire. See ya.”
Once they hang up, Anna starts getting to work. Rolling up a few joints isn’t going to take more than a few minutes, but hey, what’s this left in her pile of rolling paper? She has a leftover joint—about half?—that’s unfinished. She observes it a little and sees that the filter is a cut-out piece of her dad’s business card. Jeez, she rolled this out of desperation two months ago! The weed is probably dry as hell by now, considering how she didn’t store it properly. Anna sighs, thinking how much of a waste this is.
Or… hm.
She smirks.
… It doesn’t hurt to finish it, right? A couple tokes isn’t going to hurt. With her tolerance, she’ll sober up before she even feels the burn in her throat.
Anna rolls her chair to the window and opens it up. The nice summer weather always gives her the opportunity to do this; she can’t smoke anywhere else in the house (lest her parents and Elsa find out), so this really is her only safe haven. Anna grabs her lighter in the nightstand and lights up the joint. This amount will help relax her—especially when she has to pack up the brownies. She inhales, taking in a deep, deep breath and lets the burn pass through her throat, lets it enter her lungs, then—
An exhale.
She leans over her window and watches the smoke dissipate into the afternoon air. What a perfect setting for a joint, she muses as she takes in a few more tokes. It’s a serene atmosphere with the blue skies, a few white, puffy clouds, people are walking their dogs, Elsa’s beamer is parked in front of the house, and—
She chokes. Hard.
Like, Anna might as well have coughed her lungs out because oh my god, t-t-that’s…!
Elsa’s freaking car!
Her sister is home!
Anna puts out the joint (not that she needs to—she’s practically done) and bursts out of the room, rushing down the stairs in a speed unimaginable. She feels as though her soul has left her body, because is her heart even beating anymore? Is she even breathing? Oh god oh god. The smell of brownies is filling the house, there’s no way she can hide this.
There’s no way to hide from Elsa…!
“Anna!”
Oh, lordy.
Anna approaches her sister, dressed beautifully in a light-blue sundress. Thin straps hang along her shoulders; beautiful outlines of her collarbones accentuated by the natural gleam of her white skin, the tight fit of the dress hugging her beautiful figure, emphasizing curves that Anna has grown to admire—all of which come together as a sight that cannot be ignored. Anna is left astounded, completely dazed, in part due to the half-joint she just had and also because, quite frankly, it is a natural reaction.
“Elsa…”
But then she is reminded that this beautiful sight—her beautiful sister is currently munching—no, savouring one of those brownies. And it’s half-finished. Oh god. She shifts her gaze to the batch of brownies placed on a cooling rack by the sink—a dozen of it, and…
Wait a second.
A dozen… minus TWO?!
What the hell?! Elsa’s already… s-she’s already had two brownies?!
“I hope you don’t mind, but I’m starving,” her sister says as she takes a bite. “Since when did you get so good at baking? This is really good.”
Under these circumstances, Anna should give herself a pat on the back for being able to smile. The subtle arch of her lips and a nervous little chuckle. “I-it…” she struggles to find the words and wonders why oh why does she even bother? “… It doesn’t taste weird?”
“Hmm?” Elsa blinks, taking an innocent bite.
Anna feels cold sweat running down her forehead. Oh god, her sister has no idea. “Do you, I dunno,” she shrugs. “Feel weird or anything?” Anna asks that, but she knows very well that the effects probably won’t hit her very innocent-and-has-never-touched-alcohol-so-let-alone-weed-before-older-sister for another forty minutes or so.
“Um, no,” Elsa says as she, once again, very innocently, takes another bite. Round, blue doe eyes and pearly white teeth. Two concepts that are undoubtedly Anna’s weakness and… just—god, it’s hitting her. It’s hitting her…! Anna’s feeling it!
She tries to distract herself. She needs to distract herself. Jesus Christ, it’s not supposed to affect her at all! She’s a chill-high! Right now, she feels… feels…
“Anna?” her sister comes forward.
Brownie devoured, Elsa looks so full and happy and satiated, and Anna is glad that she is the one to make Elsa feel this way, and… wait, what?
“Are you okay? Why are… oh my goodness, why are your eyes so red?”
Anna averts her gaze, looking at everything and anything but Elsa’s eyes, but her stupid-ass thinks looking at her sister’s cherry pink lips would be better, and so she sees bits of brownie crumbs around those very kissable lips and oh… fuck—
“Hey, are you not feeling well?”
—Elsa smells so fucking good (like mint and vanilla!) and, oh, how long has it been since Anna’s seen those freckles up close? They’re like dustings of snowflakes. Faint and barely there but doesn’t make them any less beautiful. It doesn’t make her sister any less hot—
“Weed.”
Elsa stares. Long, dark eyelashes bat adorably as her blue eyes sparkle in wonder.
Anna decides to come clean. Even if her sister may give her a beating. This is for her sister’s safety. Because what the hell can she do otherwise? Head off to Hans’ party and leave Elsa unsupervised after taking, like, ten-ish grams of edibles? That’s freaking a lot. What if her sister greens out? W-what if she gets hospitalized?! Gets permanently brain damaged?! Anna would never forgive herself!
“T-there’s weed in the, uh,” Anna mutters. “… Brownies.”
In that instant, Anna thinks Elsa’s round, blue eyes may as well have popped out of their sockets. Her sister dashes for the washroom, and almost immediately, she hears gagging sounds. Anna grimaces, grabbing a glass from the cupboard to fill it up with water. She makes her way to the same washroom, peeking through the door that’s left ajar.
“Elsa…?”
Gagging noises.
Anna approaches the blonde. “Hey, uh, you doing okay?”
Elsa’s response is a cough. Well, several violent wheezes and a cough. “I…” she says, “… I can’t.”
“What?”
She looks up to her younger sister. “I-I can’t puke it out.”
“W-what do you mean you can’t puke it out?” Anna puts down the water by the sink. “Just stick your fingers into your throat! It’ll come as a reflex.”
“I know! But, like, I can’t. I-I’m scared…”
“Wait, what?” She sits next to her sister. “Haven’t you tried puking alcohol out before when you drank too much?”
Elsa, as if embarrassed, turns away to pout. “I’ve never drank to the point that I need to puke…”
That… is not surprising at all. Again, her sister is, like, the most innocent (and, as Hans would say, boring) person in the world. So there is nothing surprising about this. Hell, all Elsa does during exam season is stay home and study. In the rare cases that Elsa does go out, it’s most likely because she feels like studying at the library or something. Even on her free time, Elsa would only be out doing her part time job. She really isn’t the socializing type.
Unlike Anna. Constantly partying and all.
“Okay, well,” Anna brushes along Elsa’s back with one hand and reaches for the water she placed down earlier with the other. “Drink a bit of water, at least.” She sighs. “I guess we can just… wait it out?”
Elsa hugs her knees, hiding her head behind them. “Am I going to die…?”
Anna does a face. It can’t be hitting her already, can it? “You can’t die from weed, Elsa.”
“Yeah, but, what if I turn stupid?”
She chuckles. “You would be the last person to ever turn stupid. I mean, look at me. I’ve been doing this stuff for a while now, and I don’t think I’m stupid.”
Her sister raises her head, quirking a brow at her.
… which makes Anna rethink her words. Awkwardly, she scratches her cheek with a finger. “Er, well. You know what I mean. I’m not stupid most of the time, I think.”
“Mmn,” Elsa sighs. “But you were quite stupid to not be more careful with this,” Elsa suddenly says, gesturing at herself. “Good thing it was I who ate one. Imagine if it were mom or dad.”
”Oh, god. I would’ve been murdered on the spot.”
“No, not really. At least, not until it kicks in…” Elsa remarks. Then, as if reaching an epiphany, her expression changes. She slaps Anna on the arm—just lightly.
And so Anna is more so amused than hurt, but still—“Ow! What was that for?”—it’s a sister-thing to overact.
“Oh, as if it isn’t obvious enough,” the blonde’s cheeks puff up. “The nerve of you to be doing drugs!”
“Wha—I mean, I’m sorry! But, like, at least it’s not the bad stuff, right? If it’s meth or heroin or… or even cigarettes, then I think you can go ahead and kill me. But that,” she points to the door, in the kitchen’s general direction, “That is the good stuff, Elsa. Medically speaking.”
It’s all very strange, for Anna is fully expecting Elsa to retort. The two of them often have these silly bickers and whatnot, and once in a while, they’d end up giving each other the silent treatment, but it never lasts for more than a few days. For one, it’s because Anna sucks at refraining from being close to her sister, and for another, Elsa is a giant softie and is therefore the most forgiving person, ever. And so, even right now, Anna can see Elsa’s angry front slowly melting away. The older girl crosses her arms and looks away, like a child who didn’t succeed in winning an argument. “Still your fault for making chocolate brownies…”
Somehow, that gives Anna a bit of relief. Her sister isn’t actually mad. She’s just tilted. Maybe a level lower than that. “In my defense, I thought you were working a late shift today.”
“And so you decide to make a dozen brownies? Were you intending to eat them yourself? Or were you going to hide them in your room?”
“What? No! I made them for Hans.”
And then Elsa’s entire body just deflates.
She’s not an expert at reading the mood, but Anna would always know when her sister isn’t happy. Right then, she scrambles for an explanation. “It’s his birthday, so I just thought,” she shrugs, trying to play it cool, “I’d make him something he’d like.”
Elsa bobs her head.
Oh, boy. This isn’t working. “He… isn’t that bad of a guy, y’know?”
“No, I know.” Elsa mumbles.
“Anna scoots closer next to her sister. “Elsa… why do you look like you’re bothered by this?”
Elsa hides behind her knees again, hugging them tightly. “No reason.”
Anna sighs. Stupid Elsa. Stubborn as usual. She’s doing that thing again where it’s become near impossible to pry the answer out of her, so Anna might as well not try. “Welp,” she stands. “Not that I’m going anywhere now.”
Elsa raises her head and looks up at Anna.
Who, immediately, feels her heart flutter at the sight of Elsa’s curious expression. She bites back a giggle. “Can’t leave my sister who has just eaten two special brownies alone now, can I?”
The blonde pouts, turning away to hide her, perhaps, flushed cheeks.
So cute. Elsa is so cute. It’s in moments such as these that Anna feels protective—an overwhelming need to put Elsa ahead of everything. Y’know how people would do anything just to spend a moment more with their crushes? Even if it’s for the most miniscule reason? Granted this reason isn’t miniscule at all, but to be able to hang out with her sister means the world to Anna.
“Come on. Up we go,” Anna reaches her hands out.
“Where are we going?” Elsa asks sheepishly as she’s lifted to her feet.
“Well, first I gotta pack up all those brownies in case mom and dad come home early.”
“They won’t,” Elsa says. “They have a wedding reception to attend. I think one of dad’s old coworkers? Something like that.”
“Oh,” Anna nods. “Alright, I’ll take it. Still have to clean up, though.” She makes her way back to the kitchen and knows that her older sister is following closely behind. “Then I have to text Hans and tell him that an emergency came up. I’m sure he’ll understand…” at this point, she really is just monologuing, but Anna tends to work better when she thinks aloud.
“Then…?” Elsa’s meek voice interrupts her thoughts.
“Then,” Anna takes a container large enough to hold all the brownies out from the drawers of the kitchen island. She starts tossing the brownies in haphazardly. Not that she cares about presentation. Everyone will just behave like animals when they see the treats. “… Then, we’re going to hang out.”
Hearing that, Elsa’s head tilts to the side.
Anna’s reaction is a reassuring smile. “I said I’m not going to leave you alone, didn’t I? Especially not when this is your first time touching weed. I remember my first time getting high with edibles. God, it was dreadful. I thought a demon was chasing after me even though I was just sitting in the corner of the room.”
Elsa clasps her fingers together. She’s fiddling with them, and Anna knows it’s a habit she’s been doing since they were kids. At times, Anna finds herself doing it too.
“Hey, it’s going to be okay,” she takes her sister’s hands into her own. “We’ll have you drink lots of water, and it’ll pass by faster, alright? And, who knows? You might experience a nice high.”
“Nice…?”
“Mm-hm,” Anna nods. “Pretty sure Kristoff gave me the bad stuff, which was why I reacted the way I did. You, on the other hand,” she points to the brownies. “The stuff you had was so good you couldn’t even taste them. That’s because it was genuinely, well, good.”
“Or… maybe you’re just good at baking?” Elsa offers with a smile of her own. It’s a slight arch of the corner of her lips. Very subtle but again, very, very adorable.
“I-I mean,” and it’s definitely making an effect, because Anna feels herself getting flustered. God, it’s just a little praise from her sister, and she’s getting lightheaded from it. Damn weed is really messing with her system. No wonder people accuse her of having a sister complex. “T-Thank you?”
Elsa grins. Her pearly white teeth show, and Anna actually has to force herself to turn away before she gets red from the mere sight of her sister’s teeth.
“Anyway,” Anna straightens herself. She tosses the mess into the dishwasher and turns it on—erasing evidence efficiently and all that—and grabs the container with her brownies. “Let’s go upstairs in case mom and dad do come home. I think it’s easier if I told them you fell asleep than have them see you bloodshot.”
“O-okay.”
“Where’s your water?”
“I… I left it in the washroom.”
Anna’s already on the move. She grabs a larger, taller bottle from the cupboard and fills it up to the rim. “Drink as much as you can. You’ll feel better.”
Elsa, looking confused, just takes the bottle, holding it with a cautious grip. Like it’s some priceless, ancient artefact. “I, well—Anna, I don’t feel… I mean, I think I’m alright for now…”
“No, trust me. Edibles hit like a truck. Randomly, too. You probably have another twenty-ish minutes before it happens.”
“You say it like I’m going to spontaneously combust.”
Anna laughs. “Just trying to hype it up for you, Elsa.”
The girl in question scoffs. “Stop it. I’m freaking out enough as is.”
“Hey, don’t worry so much,” Anna stops right in front of her own bedroom. She holds onto the handle, “I’ll be right here when it happens,” and then she pushes her door open.
… which, in hindsight, is a dumb idea.
The overwhelming smell of marijuana punches her square in the face—and Elsa’s reaction is to pinch her nose. “Anna!” she cries, voice nasally. “It smells like a skunk painted your walls!”
It’s almost offensive—almost. Anna, who has grown to love weed, has to remember that Elsa isn’t a regular, and so getting a whiff of THC would definitely throw her off. “I’m sorry!” she runs in to pack her tools up. Just bulldozing everything into the box with a sweep of an arm. Anna seals it shut and slides it under her bed not-so-very inconspicuously and tries to laugh it off. “I, uh, usually turn on the diffuser to get rid of the smell.”
Her sister gives her a look. “Do you… do this a lot?”
Anna has every intention to answer politely and say something along the lines of, why yes, dear sister. Indeed, I do, and I’m surprised you haven’t noticed, considering how your room is right next to mine, but she just keeps quiet. Don’t want to add oil to a fire that is threatening to spread.
But Elsa just sighs in frustration. Really, it sounds more like a grunt. She enters Anna’s room, not thinking twice to sit down on the bed. Anna herself takes a seat in her chair, sitting as properly as she can. It’s like she’s in the presence of royalty. Yeah, her sister gives off that vibe. Especially when she’s tilted.
“So, um,” Anna tries to break the tension. “How’ve you been?”
Elsa crosses her arms.
Right. That was dumb. Anna is horrible at starting conversations. She’s so incredibly awkward at it. “I meant. H-how was… work? You had work today, right?”
“Yes,” Elsa says softly. Like she’s accepted her fate. Just waiting for the end of the world and all. “I had a co-worker fill the rest of my shift for me. I wanted to come home early.”
“Oh?” Anna rolls her chair closer. “Why? Got plans for tonight?”
“N-no,” Elsa says quickly. “Just…” she brings her fingers together again, “… wanted to come home.”
Now, that’s weird. Elsa, as Anna understands, is refined, elegant, and confident in everything that she does. Rarely does she stammer like the way that she just did. It’s only when she’s flustered about something does she ever behave this way. It can easily be argued that brownies are doing something, but Anna knows a shy-Elsa and… well, while she hasn’t met a high-Elsa yet, she’s certain that this isn’t behaviour induced by THC.
Anna starts analyzing the situation.
Flustered. Flustered.
Hm.
Elsa only gets flustered when people praise her. Modest as she is, poor girl isn’t all that great with taking compliments. She’d typically be left in a pile of awkward mess. Probably as awkward as Anna is when she gets those weird messages from people who wanted to flirt with her and—
…
Wait.
Anna gasps. Her eyes widen into the size of saucers and she stares straight at her sister… who is wearing a beautiful dress. Her sister, who has her hair set up nicer than usual in that single braid and windswept bangs. Her sister, who came home so happy and energetic and, just…
No.
Elsa, meanwhile, is staring back. Deer-in-the-headlights. The two are caught in this momentary state of silence—one that is heavy, tense, and can very much slice the concept of gravity in half.
“Elsa…” Anna eventually calls to her.
An audible gulp echoes in the room. “Yes?” Elsa says.
“Did y…” Anna feels her lip quivering, “… A-are you going out on a date…?”
“Wait, what? No! I-I mean, I…” she hesitates. “No! I’m not, Anna. I really am not!”
But Anna isn’t convinced. She is probably frowning like a baby by now, but Anna can’t turn it around. Just—the thought of her sister going out on a date?! T-that’s atrocious! War crimes! No, just… no! “Then why are you dressed so nicely?” she hears herself ask.
“What?” Elsa looks at herself. “Anna, I dress like this all the time.”
“Oh, sure, you do,” she says it like an accusation. “With your revealing clothes and all, right?”
“It’s summertime!”
“Uh-huh. Which explains why your makeup is nicer than usual.”
“I just—” Elsa’s jaw hangs loose. “I-I got better at it, I guess? Why does it matter to you that I’m going on a date, anyway?”
“So you are going on a date.”
“No!” Elsa cries. “I didn’t say that. Stop putting words in my mouth!”
Admittedly, they are being very loud. If they get any complaints from their neighbours, Anna wouldn’t even be surprised, but that’s the least of her concerns for now. Because while she understands deep inside how ridiculous this entire argument is, and that she is being (kind of? Maybe? Definitely?) unfair towards her sister, this is, like, really important! And it’s not even for a reason she can properly explain. Just—it’s like something’s prickling her heart. Physically pulling at her arteries, even. It’s annoying, and it irks her, okay?!
“Whatever.” Anna mutters. She leans back in her chair. “Not that it’s important to me.”
There is a distinct pause. For a hint of a second, Anna thinks that she hears a small gasp from Elsa. She dares to take a glimpse—just a bit—and like the analogy she gave her sister earlier, it hits her like a truck. Right in the gut.
Elsa’s look of guilt, that is.
And it extra sucks, because like she already knows, this isn’t even Elsa’s fault! But it is so like her to take the blame. Because it is so like her to think that she’s done something wrong, so like her to accept everything without consequences, so like her to be selfless to a fault.
“Did you really mean that…?” comes Elsa’s soft voice. It breaks a little as it comes out.
And by default, so did Anna’s heart. “No, I…” she tries, “… no. No, I didn’t, Elsa. Of course it’s important to me. I—”
But Elsa cuts her off, likely mustering all the courage she has to speak, “I just hoped that I would bump into you if I came home earlier today,” she pauses, bringing her knees up so that she can hug them. Another one of those defense mechanisms. “… You’re always out by the time I come home.”
This time, Anna’s breath hitches.
“I try to stay up so that I can see you. I’ll be happy if it’s only for a bit! But I’m always so tired, and I end up falling asleep as soon as I lie in bed,” she says, almost apologetically so. “A-and I can’t wait too long for you to wake up in the morning either because I have class. So, I thought maybe it’d be more likely that I’d see you in the afternoon?”
At this point, all Anna can do is bob her head.
Elsa’s shoulders droop. “I came home thinking we could hang out.”
Anna chews on her lower lip.
“There’s this nice restaurant I wanted to try, and I thought to take you with me, but it’s my fault,” she says. “I should’ve asked you first. And now I’ve created this… this misunderstanding. I’m sorry—”
“Elsa.”
The blonde squeaks.
Anna offers her sister a soft smile. She gets off her chair and takes a seat next to Elsa, scooting close enough so that their thighs touch, and then she wraps her arms around her sister, whose tiny frame fits snugly in her arms. “Please don’t apologize,” Anna says. “You’re not the one at fault, okay? You never are, and I think I’m the one who needs to say sorry,” she chuckles.
Elsa looks at her, curious.
“I guess I should’ve put in more of an effort to ask you to be my date. Now, I’m just acting like some petty, jealous girlfriend.”
A pretty shade of pink spreads across Elsa’s cheeks. That and, well, the two of them are trying desperately not to look at each other.
Shit.
She didn’t mean to say it like that. A date doesn’t necessarily mean anything romantic; it can be platonic—it can be familial! L-like, Anna loves going on dates with her dad! He’s the coolest! He’d always get her ice-cream and clothes and… just…!
God damn it.
Her mind is not helping.
“W-what I mean is,” Anna clears her throat, backing away to create some distance between her and her sister. “I was lying before. It is important to me because I—I’ve, uh, always wanted to hang out with you as well.”
There, she said it. Maybe it came out like she was rushing, but screw it—she got it over with. Hopefully, she didn’t come off as creepy.
“Really?” comes Elsa’s response. It is genuinely filled with wonder—a natural reaction that is paired with the happiest form of enthusiasm.
Which, just as naturally, makes Anna’s heart swell. She smiles. “Really, really.”
“But…” Elsa’s frown returns, “… what about Hans? Don’t you have to go to his birthday?”
Anna rolls her eyes. “What’s more important than my sister? Hell, I wouldn’t miss hanging out with you for mom or dad’s birthday. Plus,” she leans in to inspect Elsa’s eyes. “Like I said, I’m not leaving you alone today. Not over the amount that you ate.”
Elsa giggles. “I feel fine so far.”
“Mmn,” Anna hums as she stares deeper into those blue eyes at every angle possible. “That’s what they all say.” She bounces up to her feet. “Tell you what, after you sober up, let’s go to that restaurant you mentioned. Then maybe we can catch a movie? Or head for some dessert—have some real sister-bonding time! Oh, and I’ll drive, of course.”
“Okay,” Elsa says without a moment’s hesitation. Her grin reaches her eyes, and Anna hasn’t seen her happier.
“Okay.” Anna affirms. “For now, though, we’re gonna have to wait it out.”
Elsa’s gaze wanders around the room. She fidgets, like she has something she wants to say.
“What’s wrong?”
She thins her lips. “I, well… I was wondering if you had any snacks?”
Anna’s eyelids flutter.
“I’m kind of hungry…”
“Wha—” Anna splutters. “Elsa, you had two brownies!”
“I-I didn’t eat all day! If you hadn’t come down so soon, I would’ve had two more.”
“Oof, and that would’ve been so bad,” she says it more to herself than to her sister. “Alright, I’ll go check if we have anything in the fridge. Maybe we can watch something on my laptop as we snack away?”
Elsa nods. “That sounds nice.”
Aw, what a cute reaction. Anna holds back a giggle. She makes her way to the door. “Stay put, alright? And, uh, remain calm.”
Elsa’s the one to roll her eyes this time. “I said I’m fine, Anna.”
“Yeah, I know,” she shrugs. “Just making sure.”
Anna has this thing that she does to test if she’s still high when she leaves the room. Some of her and Elsa’s childhood photographs are framed along the staircase, which are vital to her test. If she’s capable of remembering when, how, and in what situation these photos were taken within a second, then she would proclaim herself sober. However, if she finds herself stand there for more than, say, ten seconds, then she would know that she’s still under the influence. Once, her mom actually found her gawking at the pictures. Anna was so high that time, there was no way she could explain herself; she ended up breaking down into tears and confessed that she had a dream Elsa went to the toilet and never came back. Something like that. Point is, it worked.
Considering how she’s able to pass that test with a single glance, Anna can safely conclude that the TCH has left her system. Now she can deal with her sister more efficiently. God knows what would happen if they were both high. Like she’s stated earlier, she is a chill-high, but it really depends on whom she’s with.
Anyway, one thing at a time. Food. Elsa wants food right now.
Fridge… eh, leftovers from dinner last night. Meatloaf isn’t really something you’d have as a snack. The ice-cream in the freezer is ages-old. Even the sticker’s frosted over and so nobody will know what flavour this is (though, Anna is about 90% sure that it is chocolate—it can only be chocolate)! Whatever. No ice-cream.
Ooh, how about those chips that their mom bought the other day? Neither Elsa nor Anna is the type to munch on that stuff, but hey, special occasion.
She takes her time with the choices because, damn, there are so many. Barbeque, ketchup, salt and vinegar—jeez, is her mom thinking of hosting a party or something? Hold on, what flavour does Elsa like? Oh, wait, that’s a stupid question. The flavours don’t actually matter when you’re high. Hm, okay, how about—
BANG
Anna jumps at the sound. What the hell was that?
Her mind answers that question for her in a heartbeat, however, and she’s off. Anna drops everything and runs upstairs so fast she doesn’t even think she breathed at all in this span of several seconds.
Oh, and—what have you? Her freaking door is shut. She reaches for the handle, checking to see if it’s… oh, yes, of course. Of course it’s locked. Great. It’s happening, isn’t it? Okay. No problem. She can do this. Easy as babysitting.
She takes a deep breath. “Elsa?” Anna knocks on the door. Be chill. Gotta be chill about it. “Hey, I’m back.”
No answer.
“Erm…” Right. Maybe knock a little harder? “I’m back with your snacks,” she stares at her empty hands. “I got quite a variety for you. It’s like… like a buffet!”
Again, no answer.
“Ugh, seriously.” Anna says to herself. There isn’t a key to her door and she can’t exactly pick it open, so the only way in is to coax her sister in to opening it for her. “Hey, come on, Elsa. If you don’t want chips, I, um… I even brought you chocolate!”
Still no answer.
Which is worrisome, because while Anna doesn’t have anything particularly hazardous in her room, there are still ways for one to get hurt. She’s heard of stories where people would tangle themselves up in curtains, accidentally bang their head too hard against the wall, or just—something crazy! And Anna is having none of that!
She has to think fast.
If she can’t get in her room through the door, then the only way is…
“Ugh.”
God damn it.
Anna sucks in a deep, deep breath. It sounds more like she’s hissing, which is rather appropriate considering the circumstances. She rolls up her sleeves, slips her hairband out of her wrist and ties her hair back in a ponytail. Anna does all of this as she goes back down the stairs. Not even bothering to put on her shoes, she heads out the front door and looks to her room’s window on the second floor.
Right. Good.
She left it open because she was trying to finish her joint earlier. Thank god for dumb luck.
It should be clockwork from here. She did this a lot as a teen when she snuck out at night—y’know, when she still had her curfew and all. Though, it was much easier back then than it is now. Her lazy ass needs to get out to the gym more often. Anna pushes the trash bin close to the garage door. The height of it gives her a boost to climb up to the roof, which then allows her to get to her window with ease. Because, like, it’s one of those dormer roofs-design things and the garage connects to the house and… you know what? Whatever. Let’s just do this.
Anna glances around, making sure that nobody’s around to see her climb into her own room. Well, if the neighbours see, she can just say that she forgot the keys or something. If they know who she is, they certainly won’t call the cops on her. Anyway. She hoists herself up onto the trash bin. Ooh, okay, a bit wobbly. Anna steadies herself and holds onto the ledge of the roof. She’s much taller now as an eighteen-year-old compared to her teenaged years, so bless. Parkour definitely isn’t her type of sport though, she thinks as she climbs onto the roof. Finding balance takes her a hot minute, but Anna manages to stand and lean as much to the slope rather than the open as possible in case she really does fall. From here, she probably won’t break anything other than an ankle, so she still has to be careful.
But Anna finally reaches her window, and she is so tempted to burst in like one of those S.W.A.T. members she’s seen in movies. Like when they repel down and then kick the window open, landing with a commando roll? That’s heroic as hell.
But Anna isn’t S.W.A.T., nor is she heroic in any way.
Because when she enters, she does so clumsily and, without going into too much detail, gracelessly. She damn well near fell flat on her face when she catches Elsa lying in her bed, naked.
…
Ha-ha, very funny, eyes.
Anna chuckles to herself. So much for not being high anymore. She blinks several times, because that would definitely help her get the image out of her head.
But, like. Come on, man. Every time she looks back to her bed, the image is still there. It’s not going away. Look outside the window. To her bed.
Naked Elsa.
Look to her desk. To her bed.
Naked Elsa.
Look to the light blue sundress and the white bra and panties on the ground. To her bed.
Naked freaking Elsa.
“Um.” Anna squeaks. “Elsa?”
The girl in question is, as stated, in bed. Anna’s bed. Just… lying there. Straight as a zombie. But she is awake. Her eyes are wide and she is staring at the white ceiling. Yep, Elsa is definitely awake and isn’t dead.
That’s good and all, but… Anna coughs. Without letting her eyes wander too far up, she grabs the covers that Elsa is lying on and wraps her sister up like a burrito. Her blonde head pokes out, and it’s weird as hell because Elsa’s expression is blank. Dilated pupils and bloodshot eyes. It’s arguably cute and Anna would take her time to look a little longer if she weren’t so preoccupied. Not like she hasn’t seen her sister naked before, b-b-but that was like years ago! They used to bathe together when they were kids, and they haven’t done anything since because… because! It’s weird! They’re both adults now!
More importantly!
“Elsa, why are you naked?!”
Her sister sits up. The movement is done in slow-motion and, ironically, is more graceful than anything Anna’s ever seen. God, how does she do that?
“Jacuzzi.”
“What?”
Elsa, still expressionless, stares straight at her.
It’s quite freaky, not gonna lie.
“This is a jacuzzi.”
If Anna can get a nickel for every time she rolled her eyes just today alone, she’d be a very rich woman. “Alright. Yes, it is,” she grabs the water bottle on her desk. “Now have some wine while you’re at it.” Anna sits next to her sister, opening the cap before handing it to her.
“Blow on it for me, please.”
“… blow?”
Elsa nods once. “Chicken soup is hot.”
It’s difficult to make out what she’s saying because she’s being soft as hell, but did she just say chicken soup? Alright, whatever. Just roll with it. “Phew, phew,” Anna even puts in the effort to give sound effects. “Mmm, yum. Chicken soup. Now drink.”
Elsa does as she is told, taking the bottle in her hands and starts gulping the water down. Anna observes closely, ensuring that her sister wouldn’t choke or anything. She catches the bump of Elsa’s throat, bobbing—the soft sounds of her swallowing—all coming together in a… how should she put it? Symphonic way?
It is right then a tiny stream of water slips out of the corner of Elsa’s lips. It runs with gravity, moves down Elsa’s chin, following the tendons of her neck, past the bumps of her collarbone before disappearing beneath the covers.
Anna reminds herself to breathe because shit. This is getting dangerous. And she isn’t even the one who’s high.
Once Elsa finishes the whole thing (it’s an entire litre!), she makes a face—like she she’s had the best gourmet meal—does a chef’s kiss, and states, straight up, “Al dente.”
Which makes Anna chortle this time. “The pasta was great, wasn’t it?”
“Pairs perfectly with this wine,” she swirls the empty bottle like she’s swirling wine in a glass.
“Yep.” Anna takes it out of her hand and places it on the ground. The covers are constantly falling off, and so she has to come back to rewrap Elsa up in case she reveals any more skin.
Or, more like in case Anna sees any more skin.
“Aaaanyway,” she attempts to divert the subject. “I didn’t take you for a crazy-high, Elsa.”
The response doesn’t come, mainly because Elsa is left there, staring at the opposite wall with the most intent gaze. It’s how Elsa behaves when she’s studying; Anna has caught her sister doing this once or twice when she barged into her room in the past, hoping that they could hang out. But alas, Elsa’s so focused on her work that she didn’t even notice Anna swaying her arms right next to her. Sometimes, Anna thinks Elsa takes Adderall for concentration purposes, but she’s pretty sure it’s just caffeine.
“… why am I naked?” Elsa suddenly asks.
Anna turns to her sister. Confused face. “You… are in a jacuzzi?” her answer comes in the form of a question.
Elsa’s eyes become impossibly rounder, impossibly more curious. “W-with you?”
“Um. Do you… not want to?”
She shakes her head like her life depends on it. And if that’s not enough, Elsa throws her arms around Anna’s neck. “I want to,” her response is a mere whisper.
By now, Anna is very much aware of how close they are, of how Elsa’s breasts are pressed against her own, and how sweet her sister (note: her sister!) smells. The farther Anna leans back, the more Elsa leans onto her, and her sore arms can only support so much as they wobble with both her and her sister’s weight. “Elsa…” she shuts her eyes, turning away so that Elsa’s lips wouldn’t be literally right there.
But as her sister’s hot breath fans against her flushed skin, as the soft, rhythmic panting that escapes her mouth continues to tear her resolve apart, Anna resorts to digging her fingernails into her sheets. Her elbows are shaking and she is that close to giving in—to just lie down flat on her back so that her very naked sister can be directly on top of her.
This goes on for god-knows-how-long. Her concept of time has been warped. The colour of the sun has long shifted into an orange hue, as if some greater being out there decided to give them some mood lighting.
Which is highly unnecessary, by the way! Because Anna doesn’t need any reminder of how wrong this is. The constant teasing and joking about her having a sister complex? That’s more than enough. The thought of it haunts her in her sleep—it follows her every thought. And while it may not seem like it, but Anna is actually very good at keeping secrets, especially when it means to protect her sister. So she will let this silly crush of her subside. She has convinced herself that this is just… admiration blown out of proportion.
“Elsa, stop.” She manages.
But Elsa doesn’t. She comes in closer, now hiding in the crook of Anna’s neck. Those lips are pressed against the delicate skin of her neck, and the contact sends violent electric currents all over her body.
She may have even let out a moan.
“Anna…”
The redhead keeps still. She refuses to look at Elsa. Refuses to move.
“When we graduate from college, let’s move away.”
Elsa’s voice vibrates gently at her cheek. The unintentional, husky feminine tone reverberates across her nerve-endings—from her gut outwards to the ends of her fingertips. Anna hitches a sharp breath; her chest expands and this time, this time for sure, she moans.
“And if neither of us has found a partner by the time we’re thirty, let’s get married.”
Anna is caught between another moan and a laugh. But what comes afterwards is a swift, “Okay.” And then she finally has it in her to turn—to face Elsa.
Face to face, their gazes connect, the tips of their nose nearly touch, and they are so close, so close.
Anna brings a hand up, barely resting it on Elsa’s soft cheek.
But Elsa is the one to lean in. Elsa is the one to lean to her touch, urging for more.
And so, Anna finds the liberty to run her fingers along Elsa’s smoothness. It’s amazing, really, how Elsa’s skin is softer than a newborn’s.
Elsa, in response, cups Anna’s hand with her own, urging her to stay. Anna sees now that her sister’s eyes are no longer bloodshot, and those pupils, wrapped wonderfully in cobalt irises that appear to have flecks of gold have reverted to their original size.
“You are so going to regret this when you sober up, Elsa,” Anna sighs, but she is smiling. Flashing red lights and echoes of the dire consequences linger at the back of her head, which is why she’s not going to see this through. Anna is more than happy to remain this way. Just live in the moment. That’s more than enough.
But Elsa pushes. She is more timid, shyer, and less outspoken, but she is also much, much more passionate. “Then…” she brushes Anna’s red hair out of her eyes, carefully tucking them behind an ear. She does all of this as she stares at her sister’s lips. “… You’re just going to have to give me another brownie.”
Anna forgets to breathe.
And Elsa leans in.