Chapter Text
Kristoff can't remember being happier than he has been this last year. It's not all been joy - there's been hard work and big conversations and more vulnerability than comes easily to him - but that just makes the steady thrum of baseline happiness all the more significant. It makes his chest swell, he walks around these days feeling like a character in a musical, just seconds away from bursting into a song and dance routine.
And he wants Anna to know.
He isn't usually one for marking things like anniversaries, but Kristoff finds himself getting wrapped up in elaborate visions, plotting out ways to show Anna, make sure she really understands what she means to him.
Kristoff celebrated two anniversaries with Kim, but Anna isn't doing the traditional Hint, Hint Louder strategy. Well, he supposes if she is she's been far too subtle.
He spends weeks searching online for restaurants in a different price category than they usually visit, scrolling through pages of heart-shaped jewelry. But it doesn't feel right. He thinks of asking Elsa for a prod in the right direction- the right restaurant, the right necklace - but that's how Elsa shows her love, not Kristoff. Besides, he knows more now about how things were for Anna, before. The early days with Hans, expensive restaurants and designer gifts and then worrying what she had done wrong as the attention ebbed, lavish apologies that got rarer and rarer…
He doesn't feel quite right, guessing. The whole thing begins to feel like a bit of a minefield when what he wants is for it to be simple, a happy day.
So he closes all his tabs and the next time Anna comes over and they're sitting on the couch at the end of a long day, he turns to her and says, "hey, what kind of thing do you want to do for our anniversary?"
Anna turns her attention to him with a wide, bright smile. He loves getting her to smile like that.
"I don't know," she says. "We don't have to do much… Something simple, maybe?"
"What if we hang out here then," he suggests, "but I'll cook something."
Her smile kicks up a notch, almost blinding. "That sounds great!"
-
A few days before their anniversary, Anna has plans with friends from work so he takes the opportunity to try the recipe he found on Bulda and Cliff. Normally he would lean on grilling steak if he wanted a nice meal, but he has done that for her before and he wants to try something new. So - chicken pesto pasta. He's never made it before but it looks resturaunt-y in the instructional video.
There is no real reason for Kristoff to collect up all his ingredients and head over to their condo to do his test run. Neither of them are chefs - there is no illusion here that they're going to teach him to cook it. He has all of the basic cooking skills.
He goes all the same. He knows why and, after a few months of therapy at the end of last year culminated in him spilling his guts out all over their kitchen table, Bulda and Cliff know why too.
Kristoff finds himself looking to Cliff, wondering Is this right? Is this what we do? Cliff slaps his shoulder and says Anna is a very lucky girl. Bulda tells him the meal is delicious and invites him to cook for them whenever he likes.
Kristoff lingers in the glow of it and when the dishes are done they play a few hands of cards, peppering him with pleasant questions about his plans. He gets two back-slapping hugs as he heads home, feeling very reassured about the whole endeavour.
-
He is committed now, to being ridiculous. So the day before their anniversary, he rolls up his sleeves and moves his couch, fully turning it up on its side so it leans vertically in the opposite corner. For the first time in who knows how long, he vacuums the whole area, casting long, aggrieved looks at an unbothered Sven for the sheer volume of accumulated dog hair.
While he's at it, he opens his blinds and scrubs the window clean of wet nose prints, where Sven watches out for his return each evening - a new habit picked up as Kristoff gets home at the same time every day now.
He lifts his flimsy fold-up card table and positions it under the window, with a chair on each side. Digs out the thrift store table cover and dithers. It's a nice one, he was really pleased to find it, but still he hesitates. Too much? She could laugh at the obviousness of it. The effort. The care.
But Kristoff wants that - for her to know these things.
He smooths the wrinkles out. It looks fine.
He adds candles, the vase and flowers, the napkins, cutlery and glass cups. Spends a little more time fiddling with the setting until it looks how he wants.
They text a little back and forth that evening. Their anniversary is inconveniently a Wednesday, so they'll both work tomorrow and then meet at Kristoff's apartment. What Anna doesn't know is that Kristoff has arranged to take a half day, leaving at lunch so he can spend a few hours finalizing things.
remember the first time you asked me out? she texts.
in the break room you mean?
were you nervous?
They don't spend a lot of time talking about Round One anymore. But she asks stuff like this sometimes, what he was thinking at a certain time, measures his answers up against what she had assumed in the moment.
He texts her back, laughing.
shitting myself
He checks back after his shower and finds,
I knew you were nervous!! I thought it was really sweet
botanical gardens with me and sven? It was always going to be a hard sell
it was perfect <3
-
When Kristoff wakes up on the morning of their anniversary, he has a text message from 12:01AM.
Happy Anniversary! Looking forward to seeing you today
The musical feeling surges. He texts her back and floats through his morning shift.
-
He's still shit at writing cards. He picked the thing out with care - the most expensive fucking card he's ever bought in his life - but he can't come up with a goddamn thing to write in it.
Happy anniversary, obviously.
I love you, another easy one.
What the fuck else…?
You make me happy...? I'm grateful...?
It's true but Jesus fuck can he write it out plainly like that?
Maybe he doesn't have to give her a card. Maybe it's all enough without one. She wouldn't be annoyed if he didn't get her a card.
But Anna loves cards. And she'll definitely have one for him. Shit.
The issue of the card isn't resolved until Anna is literally on her way, and he's scrambling to get everything finalized.
Anna,
He scribbles, in too much of a last-minute rush to second guess himself.
happy anniversary! First of many, I hope. I want you to know how much it means to me that we are here, building this together. I love you.
There's still a lot of white space, but he seals it up and hurries away to change his clothes and wrestle Sven into a navy blue bow-tie because nothing in Kristoff's life is as it was.
-
When Anna arrives she's still in her work clothes, though she works at a courthouse and not a warehouse, so she's still pretty dressed up.
He opens the door before she can knock and she smiles, first to see him and then wider as she takes in the button down and slacks he's wearing - it's not the one she helped him pick out for his interview either. Sven noses past the doorway and she laughs aloud, squatting to greet him. "Did you boys dress up for me?"
She stands to give Kristoff a kiss hello and moves past him into the apartment. He tries not to feel self-conscious as she freezes. It looks a bit sad, to his eye. The table is small and crowded - the spacing with the lit candles and the flowers overhanging their vase looks a little hazardous, and the couch just looks fucking stupid, looming over the whole set up. But the food should be good, at least.
"Kristoff!" She whirls back around, tears in her eyes already. "You didn't tell me you were doing all this! I didn't even bring anything to -"
"It's a surprise," he counters, pleased. "You hungry?"
He pulls her (folding card table) chair out even though he's never understood the practice, and she's distinctly misty-eyed by the time he brings the plates out of the kitchen. Happy though, he can tell.
"You did all this for me?" Anna says, several times.
He starts out flushing and pleased, but after a few iterations of "I can't believe you did all this!" his defense mechanisms start to creep up.
"What," he laughs, "you didn't think I'd put in the effort?"
"No, I don't mean that!" She holds up a hand to cover her mouth, "Just… I don't know, I didn't expect it. Nobody's ever… you know - I would have been the one making dinner and setting everything up like this. It's - really nice, Kristoff. I really like it. Thank you."
Kristoff chews and swallows his instinctive dodge, it's just pasta, Anna, and instead looks right at her and says, "I'm glad. I really wanted you to like it."
She smiles at him, sitting up straighter now.
The rest of the meal goes down well, as does the chocolate cake he bought rather than risk baking himself. While they eat they chat about work and friends and reminisce and make plans. Anna has a funny update to the Saga of Elsa And The Attractive Paralegal who works for the Reservation's legal team.
Kristoff gets up eventually to carry plates to the sink (his kitchen is a fucking disaster, but that's not tonight's problem) and scrapes some leftovers into Sven's bowl. Anna pops up and follows him, producing a bright red envelope from her bag and holding it out for him.
She's filled the card, cramped handwriting taking up both sides and a little bit on the back too. She stares at Kristoff as he reads it and he's sniffling by the time he finishes. It's something he doesn't think he's ever had before - that feeling of being known and seen and loved, no pretending or hiding or in-spite-of. He folds himself down into her arms, his face pushed against her neck, and they breathe together, leaning against his kitchen countertops.
"My card's shit," he says, thrusting it at her when they seperate. She tears up at his inadequate little message all the same.
They decide the date portion of their evening is over, and while Anna heads off to dig her pajamas out of her designated draw, Kristoff starts to reassemble his living room.
Much cozier out of her work clothes, Kristoff having ditched his shoes and belt, they cuddle up on the couch with Sven stretched out on Kristoff's other side. Anna tucks her painted toes under his thigh and he puts his hand on her knee, running his thumb along the boney bits.
"I got you something else," she tells him.
Kristoff's immediate reaction is, "oh shit. I didn't get you a gift, just -" he gestures at the kitchen. He hadn't thought about it once he decided to go all out on dinner.
"No," she says, calming him with a hand on his chest, "no, it was all great, Kristoff, it was perfect. I just," she laughs and blushes, "so I heard about this resort hotel at the far end of town? They have a lazy river and a buffet and all kinds of fancy stuff. So I booked us a room for a weekend. It's a staycation, you know? When you stay at a hotel without going anywhere. If you want."
Kristoff swallows. "Yeah, yeah of course. As long as you-"
"Yeah," she says, smiling, tracing her nail over the top of his hand. "I'm excited about it."
He clears his throat again. "Okay, then. Sounds really fun."
She snuggles back against him with a contented sigh. "This was really nice, Kristoff. Thank you for doing all of this."
He runs his fingers through long auburn hair. "I love you," he says. "A lot. I hope you know how much."
Anna leans up to kiss him. His hand slips down to the back of her neck. "Of course I do," she says, resting against his cheek.
He nods. Good. He's glad. He doesn't ever want her to doubt it.
"Well, what's next for tonight?" she asks, shifting so she's more in his lap.
"Oh, I don't know," he admits, grinning, "I didn't plan anything past the chocolate cake."
"Hmm," she says, looking up at him with an excessive eyebrow wiggle. "Know any good documentaries?"