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The wind tasted crisp and was cool against his face. Kristoff breathed it in gratefully. He always missed the summer, because without it he had no work, but he didn’t miss the heat. When he came down to the city during the summer the heat always seemed smothering after the ice and snow of the mountain. Autumn was a respite, a welcome inhalation between the summers of hard work and the long, isolated winters. Except his winters were no longer so isolated.
“Kristoff!”
She was a bright flurry of green skirts and glowing copper hair as she darted across the square to meet him. Kristoff barely had time to step down from the sled before Anna barreled into his chest, but he caught her up in his arms and let her momentum spin them both around.
“How long have you been waiting out here?” The nose that she buried against his collar was chilly, and he lifted his hands to cup them over the cold tips of her ears. Anna sighed appreciatively and cuddled closer.
“Not too long,” she said.
“You’re cold.”
“Only because I ran out of hot chocolate! And now you’re here! Don’t worry about me.” He had been chafing her cool hands between his, but she laced their fingers together instead and beamed up at him.
He left Sven pick his own way through the crowd to the castle bridge, trusting the reindeer to find his way back to the royal stable. Kristoff was busy watching Anna while she talked, watching her hands flutter as she told a complicated story about some castle mishap. He found himself fascinated by her wrists. Her gestures made the cuff of her sleeve pull down, baring the pale skin in brief flashes. He knew it to be smooth, knew that if he pressed his lips to it he would be able to feel her pulse.
Once they were in the castle courtyard he swung her down from the sled, and as he set her on her feet Anna tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. Her ears were so small, like delicate shells, and the skin just behind her ear, he knew, was warm and smelled sweet, like her hair. Kristoff realized he was staring at the side of her head like an idiot and looked away, blushing. Anna didn’t seem to notice—she was already wrestling with Sven’s harness, undoing the straps just as he’d taught her, and helping him cover the sled with its tarp and fill Sven’s feed bowl with carrots.
“We have more than half an hour before dinner. Do you want to change? Elsa says you really don’t have to, since you started wearing fresh clothes on your way home.”
“In that case,” he said, curling his hand around hers, “what I’d really like is a couch to lie on for a while.”
Anna reached up to stroke his cheek. “You look exhausted. We can go in the study. I’ll read to you!”
He kicked off his boots and stretched out on the couch with a sigh. There were times with the castle felt oppressive—the constant warmth from the fireplaces, the constant sound of footsteps somewhere nearby—but the softness and comfort of the furniture was worth it, he thought. Anna threw some pillows on the floor beside him, making a sort of nest, and then sat down with her back resting against the sofa, her shoulder touching his. Her head was bent over the book as she read, and Kristoff found himself staring at the nape of her neck. The bright braids that rested over her shoulders framed a triangle of pale, luminous skin. There was a patch of freckles, a few short, soft strands escaping to curl against her shoulder.
Kristoff shut his eyes, listening to Anna’s voice as she read. It was a book she was familiar with, one she’d read a dozen times during the years of lonely confinement, and Anna gave each character a different voice, reading the many dramatic speeches with gusto. He loved to listen to her, even if he was having a hard time staying interested in the plot (which mostly consisted of people being incredibly stupid). At the moment the hero of the story was wooing the heroine by describing her many charms—her skin like moonlight, her eyes like a sapphire sea, her hair like shimmering sunlight, and on and on. It seemed so silly, but…Anna sighed.
“What?”
“Oh, nothing! Nothing, it’s just…it’s so romantic. This was always my favorite part, when she falls in love with him.”
Kristoff hesitated. She looked up at him, smiling a little shyly, before she went on reading. He couldn’t focus on the story—his mind was racing as he tried to imagine saying…what? Anna, your skin is like… Well, not moonlight, moonlight was silvery and too white and sharp. Anna’s skin was more like creamy milk, except speckled with something. Speckled milk didn’t sound very romantic. Anna, your hair shines like…like…Like hair, he thought, wincing. Beautiful, shining hair, the color of autumn leaves, but…still hair. Anna—my beloved darling, my cherished jewel—no, he couldn’t. He couldn’t talk about his feelings for Anna as if they were part of some performance. Just the thought of forcing his tongue to shape the words ‘my sweet dove’ made him wince.
But he did want to tell her…something. Your hair smells like summer flowers, and I like it. Your smile makes me feel warm. Your eyes are beautiful. You are beautiful. I dream about the taste of your skin. I want to kiss the back of your neck… Hardly the stuff of great poetry, Kristoff was sure. Not words to make a girl sigh, anyway. And they didn’t capture the way he felt, the dizzy elation that filled him when he saw her, the pulse of warmth in his body when he held her, the peacefulness of just being near her and knowing she was safe. He hadn’t learned the words to describe the way she seemed to glow in his memory, to fill every empty part of him until he was bursting.
The clock chimed, and Anna closed the book, leaning over to set it on a low table. Kristoff sat up quickly and reached for her. She laughed as he pulled her back against his chest, wrapping his arms around her. He bent his head so that he could press his nose against her nape, breathing in her scent.
“We’ll be late,” she murmured, but her hands rested on top of his and she didn’t move to pull away.
“I just…I wanted to…tell you something.”
“What?”
That you…You are like a flame. Like the sunrise. That you make me dizzy, that being near you feels like falling down a cliff forever, that you feel good in my arms. You are…you are Anna. His mouth felt dry, as if it had been stuffed with sawdust. Just tell her. Tell her how beautiful she is. Tell her…
Kristoff brushed his lips lightly over the back of her neck. “I love you, Anna. I love you.”