He looked happy.
The sight was almost enough to obscure over her thoughts—nothing short of how beautiful, frost-blown and silly he looked as Claire stood on a kiddie bench, her tongue between her teeth, and her beanie sheathing her scrunched brows. Their laughter reached her, stifled but surely went past the windows of her bedroom. The lack of fog allowed the window to display even the enticing Roses surrounding the pair playing in the snow, all dimly red and surviving the rigidity of winter.
Elsa’s gaze landed on him.
But there were also Daisies.
Perhaps that was the first time she finally got something decided with her so called ‘planning.’ Blankly, she crossed out the word flowers and glared at her laptop screen. She rubbed her temple with a groan, since she forgot the idea for a moment, replaced by the prior events back at headquarters that chased away her concentration.
Damn you, Garrett, she inaudibly cursed. While Heine did approach the press, armed with a lovely paycheck she signed to make sure that the video will be off the public eye, the deal was simple and successful yet wasn’t enough to drag her encounter with the former board member out of her mind.
Plaything.
She shivered.
The word itself has alarmed her, awakened her so harshly—it nearly felt like an electrocution when her hand came colliding with the man’s face. Then it echoed, repeated, got stuck, somehow wouldn’t stop, and why the hell do they look at him like that?
He still looked happy. He still looked fine.
He was also right there, returning her stare with worry disguised with the smile he bore for Claire.
•••
“Sooo,” Claire trailed off with a large grin whilst she hopped off from the stool that allowed her to match Aiden’s sitting height, “Do you like it?”
Aiden smiled, nodding as he snaked a hand around his rigid scalp. It was an irresistible, generous offer extended by the little girl truly, so it was impossible for him to turn her down. Loombands—if he assumed correctly—gathered the soft, raven strands of his hair either unevenly or sloppily, but he knew it was already an effort done by the child.
Pressing on Portrait Mode on his phone, he made sure to capture the moment he and Claire quirked their faces together in sync.
After performing a few other silly poses, Aiden chuckled lightly, “Well, I can certainly say you have a good eye. The pink just clashes with my hair, don’t you think so?”
“Yeah! And we’re now twins!” Claire exclaimed, patting her two pigtails that sprouted from her sandy-blonde head.
“Indeed,” Aiden agreed, before ushering her towards the entrance from the garden to the main hall of the mansion, “I’m afraid it’s getting a bit dark, and it’ll be warmer inside.”
“Warmer andddd cookies are waiting in the dining room!” A particular redhead sing-songed from the end of the hall, receiving her grinning niece dashing to her direction to accept her aunt’s invitation.
Anna winked, “You’ll have to get used to this, Romeo. Sudden sugar jumps are common among us Arendelles, and you’ll soon be marrying one.”
“I can already see that, as I know Elsa have already taken a hold of our wedding cake flavor,” Aiden laughed, “You two go ahead, we’ll join you soon.”
Anna shrugs good-naturedly, taking the hopping four-year-old’s hand with a defeated sigh, “Alright. Don’t forget to carry her down the stairs if you have to because she’s been in that room of hers for almost five hours now.”
“Is Mama sad again?” Claire suddenly piped in.
The two adults shared a surprised glance, succumbing to silence. They waited, a little afraid to elaborate further for the child about her mother’s recent distress. Yet, Claire continued out of concern, “I don’t think Mama likes it when other people sees she’s sad. Mama cries a lot when I was really small and she tells me to just play, because it’s nothing.”
“Your Mama is just... thinking about a lot of things,” Anna reassures the child, then frowns. “Even rethinking some too much. But I can’t blame her,” She gravely conceded, “And um–she told me what happened. Earlier.”
“I think it’s safe to say that ‘earlier’ is what’s keeping her in there,” Aiden looks down on his feet, “You two go ahead. I’ll be talking to her.”
Anna nodded quietly, leading an equally silent Claire to the opposite direction. Aiden awkwardly turned around himself, making his way towards the flight of stairs flanked by glass with his pace according to his thoughts. That was probably the first time Aiden saw the redhead so grim.
Aiden finally reached the second floor, and as expected, her door was locked and he didn’t mind. He remembered Elsa mentioning something about the rule Anna enforced ever since she arrived fresh from the other side of the world: The Open Door Protocol.
Rules were meant to be broken, anyway.
He knocked.
The door opened.
Elsa slowly emerged from behind the door, letting go of the knob. Her dismissive expression morphed into a smile as soon as she saw her visitor. Aiden remained past the threshold, hands in his pockets until he felt the urging sensation of skin wrapping around his wrist, pulling him in before the door closed.
She stared blankly up at him, her hand unwilling to release his own.
He knew what she needed.
“I guess the ice cream yesterday didn’t do the trick?” Aiden softly joked, his nose in her hair.
She shook her head vigorously, as a child would whenever they were asked and they disagreed. This time, it was his hand that guided them to her bed so they could sit, but she kept herself squeezed next to him, tears threatening to escape her strength.
She recovered her gaze at him, a sniffle and a choked laugh parting from her lips once she saw the state his hair was in; skimpy and pink.
“You look funny.”
Aiden pressed a kiss on her temple, “That’s alright. If I have to keep my hair like this all the time so you can giggle, I would. Would you like me to?”
“N-no,” Elsa chuckled, rushing to wipe the moisture running down her cheeks, “It looks like it hurt.”
“It does a little. But other people have it worse, you know,” He rubbed her back, “My person, for example.”
Elsa smiled tearfully, the mesh between pain and affection making her wince but sweet skies, his person. His mouth traced the shell of her ear soothingly, giving him a chance to smell strawberries or the perfume she sprayed back at Paris.
“May I hear you out?” He mumbled.
“What?”
“Your day. About you. Anything about you. Completely all about you,” He drifted off with his eyes closed, and she craved to see them open, “Okay?”
“W-wait, but–”
“Elisabeth, please.”
Aiden couldn’t yell. It was a disability of his, and there was not a single moment she caught him doing so, and just like his mother once informed her while he was out of ear-shot, he is Soft-Spoken. Up until this day, he hasn’t proven that wrong because she liked her name gently leaving his lips.
That didn’t mean he wouldn’t think that he actually yelled.
“I’m sorry.”
“First of all, you didn’t yell,” Elsa reassures him softly, leading him to where the pillows were as she spoke so they could lie down properly, “And second...” Say my name again, “I would like to admit that I get disappointed every time you let go of my hand. Don’t you like it? Is it cold? Is it growing chubby?”
Aiden smiled sheepishly and shakes his head in disagreement. She knew her hand was far from any of her assumptions, she just wanted to show him some sass to mask her adorable chagrin and so he could take her hand back in his own.
He still didn’t.
Before she could pout further and say another word of protest about his lack of contact, his arms rolled her on top of him within a second, trapping her there against the hard planes of his torso without any complaint. He squeezed her, as if to playfully ask if this was much better, whilst he stared at the endless white abyss of the ceiling.
Elsa was not annoyed, or whatsoever. She could only slide in closer, because maybe this is what forever promised.
“You are so tiny,” Aiden murmured, “So small. Only five feet and seven inches. My precious.”
“Of course I’m tiny to you, you six foot three giant,” Elsa whined, “And I wear heels at work to solve that.”
“Are you—well we, allowed to like and purchase other brands?”
“Of course, darling. Christian Dior is a personal favorite. Even back at middle school in Norway, I’d like to throw two inches under my shoes,” Elsa shared lazily, twirling a fingertip around his clothed chest, then noticed, “Your shirts are all so minimalistic. Not that I’m complaining.”
“Why?”
“I end up taking them off you anyway.”
Aiden suddenly coughed, “Hey, uh, how long did you live in Norway?”
“I was born there, love. Anna and I lived there with our parents until the end of Middle School, before we had to move due to the headquarters of Arendelle Co. moving to the US and another Arendelle Capital was erected in Wallstreet.”
“Hmm,” Aiden smirked, “Does that mean you had an accent?”
Elsa blushes, whacking his ribs in the process, “Hush, you. It took me three years to get rid of it. Oh, I don’t even want to remember my highschool years. Stell—if you can still recall one of our engagement party guests, would remind me daily I looked both like a granny and a twig, while Fern would take a lock of my hair during lunch and ask why’s it so white.”
“White? More of like a platinum blonde, to be exact,” Aiden brushed his cheek against the top of her head to emphasize his point, “I love your hair, darl. No kidding. Brings out your eyes more.”
“Does it now?” Elsa kissed his cheek, “I like your hair too. Wanna know why?”
“Yes?”
“I love digging my fingers in it whenever we–”
“Speaking of highschool, where do you usually sit in the cafeteria?” Aiden scratched the nape of his neck, with blood furiously rushing to his cheeks. Elsa’s usually reserved bold streak is showing and he knew what she was getting at.
“Corner,” Elsa smiled.
“Aren’t we just a match made in heaven?” Aiden teased, “But doesn’t Anna sit with you?”
“She does, sometimes. But we all know she can be such a social butterfly. The corner just erases my existence in the cafeteria. Just me, and my matpakke.”
“Mat-peik?” Aiden tried to pronounce.
“Matpakke, love,” Elsa laughed, pinching his cheek upon his attempt, “It means packed lunch in Norwegian. Basically just brown bread and whatever we could have with it.”
“Sounds healthy.”
“Mmh. Yeah,” Elsa hummed, “And aren’t you just amazing?”
“What did I do?”
“I’ve realized it just now. You asked me something. I answered—then I began talking about myself just like you’ve wanted,” Elsa sighed softly, planting a kiss on his knuckles. She bumped their noses, admitting, “I was just so tired.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” Aiden murmured, “Okay. Go on.”
Her breath steadied.
“We’ll be back.”
Aiden turned to her out of confusion, though still listened.
“It’ll be just a week, sis.”
“Elsa...”
“I can’t have you too, is that it?”
Her voice made him flinch. She sat herself on his lap, what he had mistaken for a graceful hand quickly fisting on the collar of his shirt to harshly pull. There was a possessive glint crossing her eyes after they steadied on him.
Elsa was angry.
“The last time my parents left the house, Anna and I became orphans,” She hissed, “Anna was just supposed to go on a tour around Norway, but the next thing I know I’ll be alone for the next two years. My daughter didn’t even leave the house when I almost lost her because of a business rival. Now, it’s as if our love is such a scandal...”
He met her betrayed gaze, which oozed with both exhaustion and fury.
“This time,” She whimpered, tearing up, “Does it mean that if I blink, I can lose you too?”
Aiden’s lips were zipped close.
“That’s just it—right, love?” Elsa chuckled bitterly, and for the very first time, Aiden was frightened of her voice. “I’m not allowed to be happy. Maybe it’s already written in there.”
Her eyes slowly crept up north to meet his, speaking louder than her mouth as another round of tears came to haze her vision. A sob, followed by a few more exploited her lips while she closed her eyes shut, her damp lashes inescapably bruising Aiden’s heart into a wounded pulp.
“It’s just taking its time to hurt me again,” Elsa brokenly whispers, “And I can’t take it anymore. I’m tired of gaining something which could make my arms wrap around it so tightly that they’ll bleed after I tried my best to keep it.”
Elsa’s arms flew cleanly all around him right after her statement, and Aiden’s own limbs instantly cocooned her back. Her body barely felt steady as her crying racked her petite figure.
“Don’t want to bleed again, Aiden.”
He squeezed her against him on his lap, rocking her back and forth to summon solace. “I know.”
“Don’t want you to go.”
“I won’t.”
“But it’s going to get you,” She sniffled against his chest.
Aiden shook his head. “Then I’m not going with it.”
He added a kiss to his ministrations, the contact of his lips against her forehead diminishing her into stability. Aiden waited for a few extra minutes, before his hands caught her face, and without a word she followed his gentle gaze. Their foreheads pressed together instinctively, and when he was sure she was fully listening, his voice dropped to its most loving extent—it was as if honey was fused with each living breath he takes.
“Hello, darling,” He smiled.
Elsa timidly said it back, “Hi.”
“Hey there sweetheart. Breathing well?” Aiden asks eagerly.
“I think so.”
“Okay. That’s good. Can you be all ears for me?”
“... Yes.”
Smiling wider, he pulled her to a chaste kiss, glad to feel her return it.
“I,” He softly swore, “Aiden Antoine Laurant, promise to do my best to keep everything that makes Elisabeth Georgia Arendelle happy in place for her, from this day forward up until the rest of our summers, winters, falls and springs.”
“And we’re going to make it to our eighty’s?” She meekly questioned.
Aiden picked up one of her hands and brushed a kiss against the palm of it, “We’re better than that. Make it our hundredths.”
“That’s a little impossible,” Elsa giggled.
“We met. You love me, and I’m doing fine right now. The possibilities are endless,” Aiden laughed, “And we’re going to do so much more of it. I need you to remember that, okay?”
“Okay.”
Elsa broke away from him slightly, to study every beautiful dip and jot of his face. His hair reminded her of the color of ink. Her index finger slid down the Archangel structure of his nose, and soon her hand traced the firm, symmetrical form of his jaw. His lips fairly had the shape of a Cupid’s Bow. His eyebrows perfectly framed the utopian proportion of his eyes, which bore lashes that had the accurate mix between masculine and feminine.
Her stare trailed farther south, and her lips couldn’t help but open, mesmerized by how simultaneously intricate and... delectable his olive toned anatomy was.
Aiden was a large man, for the most part. The muscles adorning his arms, midsection and legs had the right amount of bulk and excess brawn.
Then, there’s the way he thinks. The way he talks. The way he loves her. Him.
“Want to do something now then?” Elsa huskily invited, her lips hovering dangerously over his, “Because you know, you said it yourself, darling...”
Aiden caught up with the intent guising her tone and smiled slyly. His hands slithered down her sides, cupping the protruding curve of her hips and kneading the flesh on the spots. She gasped, and he swallowed the noise after he lunged forward to devour her mouth. Meanwhile, her own respective limbs were frantic, aimless and fisting on the restricting fabric of his office shirt before it finally concentrated on the collar.
With a dominant rip, buttons flew everywhere.
“The possibilities are endless,” She finished hoarsely.
Shrugging off the torn remnants of his apparel, Aiden retreated from where he was kissing and nipping the milky hollow of her throat, growling, “Ooh, we’ll get even soon darl.”
He heard the lock click, and he found her standing breathlessly by the doors, flushed and disheveled.
Her lips curled into a smirk.
“Can’t wait.”
She just didn’t expect for him to walk up to her so he could deftly take control of her dress’s zipper under the nape of her neck. Elsa stared at him in silence after that maneuver, and dove back in for his lips.
“Ton pantalon est le suivant, chérie,” She whispered as she playfully bit his ear lobe.
While bliss have indeed claimed the night for the couple, there is one particular redheaded resident of the mansion who did not appreciate the audible hums of delight originating from her older sister’s quarters.
“Dritt,” Anna groaned, rummaging through her drawers in search of earplugs, “Aiden er nok der også. Hvilken erotisk ånd tok over Elsas kropp denne gangen? Hun lager mer lyd enn en bluetooth-høyttaler.”
To be continued
on the next chapter...