Complications (Hans and Elsa)

0.13 Thirteen

"I wish I saw things clearly,
I guess I'm just not the sort."

 -❄-

Click.

He dragged his feet suggestively towards her, pinning her to the edge of the table as he watched sweat trickle down her forehead and her throat. He flicked a finger, pointing it to her as he stared down at her impassive blue eyes, hoping that she would for once, cower in fear. But she didn’t as she balled her hands into fists, ready to strike him down with a well deserved punch. Her face was taut as her brows creased in anger, her nerves singing, her scalp prickling over one stupid lecture. He grabbed her wrists as he continued to glower down at her, his eyes a dark shade of venomous greens, his hot breath hitting her face. And instead of pushing him off of her, she spat at him as if it was the last thing she could ever do.

“I’m done with you.” Hans seethed in virago as he loosened his grip on her, wiping her saliva off of his face with the back of his hand. “I’m done with this bullshit.” He muttered as he turned on his heel, forcing the closed door open and sending the eavesdropper onto the floor.

He rolled his eyes at the both of them, refusing to help Anna to her feet. He then slammed the door close, heading towards his room to do what he should have done months ago before all of this became a hot ball of mess. He turned corners, avoiding their stares and shake of heads as he shoved everything out of his way, shattering vases and ruining the neatly lined up armors in the process. He dragged his sweaty hands to his face as he rubbed them as if to soothe even though it was futile. He knew better, he mused. He knew better then. But what force was strong enough to outwit the pernicious snake people like to call love? As far as he could tell, there was none as he tried so many times to push the bizarre feeling away, knowing that it would lead to nothing but several spiteful words and an accident neither of them seem to want. What kept him tied down was the promise she had spoken to him silently, when she thought that he was sunken along with the dreams that haunted him through the course of night. But he knew right then that it was deceitful, thus, lacked verisimilitude. And he had to admit – though it wounded him far deeper – that he believed in it in spite of the voices that told him that he was going the wrong way. Because for once, he thought that someone actually cared for him, because for once, he thought that he could be loved.

Oh Hans, if only there was someone out there who loved you.

How could he forget that love was as opaque as soiled water? How could he forget that after all he has been through, after all that woman has put him through? How could he forget the only thing she had imparted him? How could he? Was he that blinded that he forgot to see things clearly?

Oh Hans, you foolish, foolish boy. Why would I ever love a man who is thirteenth in line? I would never stoop to that level. You’re pretty, but never nimble.

And she was right. Who would ever dare stoop down to his level? He was a disgrace. And hadn’t her parting been lesson enough to tell him that he was never to love ever again? But yet, he stayed a dullard, thinking that maybe this time, things would be different, that Elsa would be different. But she was like her, except that she wasn’t a social climbing cocotte. But nevertheless, both of them broke his heart as if it wasn’t broken enough. Selfish, preeminent, formidable, and peremptory, these words seemed to fit every possible angle the Queen of Arendelle has. It was without doubt that she only cared about herself for she hadn’t graced the baby a well deserved thought.

He sniggered at the thought as he swung the door open, his mind set. No matter what the odds were, what fate has been decided for him by none other than the iniquitous queen, he would still defy them inasmuch as he was tired of having every injunction shoved down to the very end of his throat with no chance of regurgitating every damn ultimatum spoon fed to him. He couldn’t bear this any much longer.