elarendelle-blog

[elarendelle-blog]

At his assertion that he had no qualms about eating icecream and his offer to be a taste tester, should she ever need one (whether he believed it or not, people were paid to eat the first runs of their flavors), she smiled. "That's very generous of you to offer. I'll keep you in mind, Mr. Kristoff."

“I guess when it’s your life, your work and what you’ve grown up with then it is possible. But coming from a bystander who just eats it- well I’m pretty good with not getting sick of it.” He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck feeling like he might be making a little bit of a fool of himself in front of the blonde. “Well if you ever need someone to test stuff and don’t want to do it yourself, just send me a message and I’ll be happy to.” He offered, happy to help people out and especially when it came to food and free food at that.

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A few hours and an appetizing plate of spaghetti later, she sat once more in the passenger seat of his car, her insides delightfully warm from the two glasses of wine she'd nursed throughout the dinner — one more than usual, though she couldn't honestly say she liked the added effects a second glass provided. Truth be told (and it wouldn't be, because it was embarrassing), she was stuck somewhere between a rock and a hard place: between wanting to break the silence (there'd been a considerable amount of it at dinner) and being afraid that she might be a bit too relaxed.

Her silence was a precaution, really. She didn't have anything incriminating floating around in her head about the man or anyone they both knew, but Elsa had always strode on the side of caution.

Still, after a few minutes, she felt as though she needed to speak up, despite being perfectly comfortable with silence on most other occasions. "Thank you again for dinner." He'd been generous enough to offer to pick up the bill this time, and graciously, she'd let him.

tenerife sea. // adam & elsa

Adam smiled at her compliment, tilting his head down. “Thank you.” He hesitated a bit at her offer to go inside, but he took a tentative step forward as she stepped out to put the flowers in a jar. He glanced around the front room. The house was spacious. So this is where the queen sleeps, he thought with a hint of amusement. He supposed he couldn’t be too judgy considering his secrecy towards his residence.

When Elsa came back, he smiled readily. “Shall we?” He held his arm out, wondering if this was the right gesture. He wouldn’t know. He led them to his car, the blue Camaro sitting imposingly on the driveway. He wondered what she thought of it. He was proud of his car – it was the only indulgence he’d ever allowed himself, spending no expense on it from the start. And it was a fine piece of machinery, too. But he couldn’t help but to glance Elsa’s way to gauge her reaction to this so important piece of him.

He went and opened the door for her. He thought he could maybe make a joke, but he wasn’t funny, not really. So he didn’t say anything. It was awkward to say the least. He cursed himself. He ran around the front of the car to his seat, turning on the ignition before his butt had even touched the worn leather. “Ready?” he asked, both to her and himself.

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She'd come for something for her aunt. Elsa didn't make it a habit (or even an occasional pastime) to visit the marketplace, and now, jammed between two strangers like sardines, she knew why. The voice of a vendor — distinct over the constant murmurings of the crowd — rang out, and eager to break free from the current, she slipped out of the bustling (but slow) procession and paused in front of his booth. "Oh," the blonde murmured a bit lamely, if only for the sake of being polite, "those are beautiful."

“One of a kind earrings, only found here,” Ali called out to the throng of people in front of him, all trying to move through the crowded outdoor hallways of the marketplace. “You’ll never see anything like them.” 

Some days, like today, it was difficult to pin down one person to call over; he settled instead for letting his voice carry over the crowd, hoping someone would take the bait and come over.

[elarendelle-blog]

If only to ensure they moved on from the discussion of the minor inconvenience (read: an excuse to get a bit more much-needed walking in), she merely nodded, content to accompany him to his office and then into the elevator. "He is," Elsa confirmed, turning to look at him with one eyebrow raised. "How'd it go?"

“Still, sorry,” Philip said one last time. It took a matter of minutes to deliver the papers to his secretary and then they were back in the elevator, heading down to the ground floor, “I had a business meeting with Adam Bieste the other day. He’s one of your business partners, right?”

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“She’s something,” Elsa said almost wistfully. Anna was a number of things, but groggy and sick of life weren’t two of them. “Thank you.” The blonde tipped it back and took a sip, wincing a little when the hot liquid burned the tip of her tongue. The shock was enough to remind her that she’d intended to pay, and she fished her wallet out of her purse, handing the barista a ten.

“She’s still very young, but that’s rather surprising she has so much energy. Most teens are just groggy and sick of life,” he chuckled softly. “Alright, expresso it is,” he said as he ordered for them and handed her the shot of expresso she had asked for.

[elarendelle-blog]

The blonde wrinkled her nose at her friend’s flavor choice, but since she wouldn’t be the one eating it, she neglected to comment. “Cheers,” she murmured, green eyes widening when a drop of frozen yogurt dribbled down the side. Albeit a bit reluctantly, she caught it with her tongue, glancing around once she’d finished to see if anyone had noticed. “How is it?”

“One of the classics. Solid choice. But I’m going to go for salted caramel– my personal favorite of course,” Aurora said as they walked over to the lady and order both their ice cream cones. “Here,” the blonde handed the vanilla cone to the other, “Cheers,” Aurora added playfully, carefully clinking cones with her friend.

[elarendelle-blog]

Like the cover of a romance novella. The blonde laughed aloud before she could stop herself, her hands too busy gripping locks of the horse’s mane to cover her mouth; it was the first time she’d laughed — really, truly laughed — all day, if not all week, and if thanking him wouldn’t have been so odd, she certainly would have. “You’re quite adaptable, Mr. Charmant. Are you sure your brother was supposed to inherit the company?” She was kidding, of course; Philip was a force to be reckoned with, but the younger Charmant man was much more personable.

His question compelled her to mentally review her schedule, something she probably should’ve done before agreeing to a ride, but luckily (and unless she was forgetting something), it was clear. “No, I’ve got the afternoon to myself. Do you?”

“We would have worked something out.“ Fletcher mused as they walked through the park. “I could have carried your heels. You could have gone barefoot. Like the cover of a romance novella.” His amusement was audible in his voice even if she couldn’t see his expression from the horse.

And t was a beautiful day–sunny with a cool breeze. So Fletcher took his time getting them back to the stables. Then it dawned on him–Elsa might not have as much leisurely time to waste, despite it being a weekend, so he inquired, “Is there anywhere you have to be this afternoon?“

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Eventually, her eyebrows crept back down, a visible representation of her crumbling resolve. “Fine, Flynn. I’ll still need a date, though.” Dozens of samples couldn’t be readied in a matter of minutes, and the dark-haired man had shown himself to be rather impulsive when it came to showing up out of the blue. “Right.”

“Yeah. You know–give one school some samples then they’ll all want some.“ She was eyeing him like she sensed his ulterior motives. But see–he was actually being the good guy this time (aside from wanting to keep his identity a secret), so it wasn’t all an act. “ I’ll send you a picture of the kids enjoying the ice cream. That’s thanks enough for a woman who has everything, right?“

[elarendelle-blog]

For a long moment, the well-dressed man didn't speak, and she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, searching for something — anything to say to break the silence, to get him to talk. Thankfully, he spoke up before she had to, clearing his throat beforehand as if something stuck there had been the culprit.

And, for all intents and purposes, she was willing to believe it'd been nothing more than that.

His compliment, though not completely unexpected, was a bit different from the usual, but then again, wasn't everything? "Thank you. You look very nice, as always." Handsome, even. She accepted the flowers graciously, emerald gaze dipping down to admire them further. "She does have a way with flowers," Elsa murmured appreciatively, well-aware of her friend's talents. "I'll — uh... put these in some water. Give me a minute." Once she'd taken a step back from the door, she added, "You can come in, if you'd like."

tenerife sea. // adam & elsa

As he waited, Adam examined the flowers he was holding. He couldn’t name them to save his life, but he noted with a hint of amusement that Aurora had very clearly thrown some roses in there along with other specimens. Adam found himself hoping Elsa would like them. He hadn’t thought he should’ve brought them at all, but now that he was here and waiting for someone to come to the door, he was glad to have to hold onto.

As the door finally opened, the man thought he might actually be having a heart attack, the way his heart pumped against his chest. He was met with an explosion of light, emanating from one figure. Elsa’s figure, he realized. She glowed. He thought perhaps it was just his imagination, but she looked… ethereal. He’d never seen her look like that, even n all the previous dinners they’d gone to. The shock rendered him speechless for a minute or two. 

Eventually, he did find his tongue. “Elsa, you…” He had to clear his throat to allow more words to flow. “You look lovely.” As her eyes travelled down to the flowers in Adam’s hands, he remembered why he’d brought them. He extended the bouquet to her. “I wish I could take credit, but I just paid for them. Aurora did all the work,” he joked, hoping it was just his imagination that his voice cracked a little. Without the flowers to hold onto, Adam shoved his hands into his pockets. A random thought passed through his mind: he should’ve shaved. 

[elarendelle-blog]

Let the storm rage on …

[elarendelle-blog]

The blonde watched with mild interest as he adjusted her feet in the stirrups, chuckling in spite of herself at the thought of riding a horse in heels. "I almost wore them today." If she'd been told beforehand that she'd find herself astride a horse after lunch, she might’ve, if only to avoid having to branch out, but Elsa couldn't help but think that it was a good thing she hadn't been.

Not clinging to the horse's neck once he began to trudge forward took nearly every ounce of willpower she had, but with every moment that passed with Fletcher holding the reins, her muscles relaxed little by little. Could horses smell fear? God, she hoped not. Luckily, men could not. "Okay," she managed, a hesitant smile teasing her lips. It was a long way down.

“No need to apologize.“ His hands moved her right foot forward on the stirrups, going around the front of the horse to check on her left as well. She looked good to go. “You’re actually wearing very sensible shoes. Now–if you had heels we would have had a problem.”

With the reigns wrapped tightly around his palm, Fletcher guided the horse forward, making soft, low clucking sounds, tongue pressing on the roof of his mouth to urge the animal forward. Setting the pace at a slow and easy gait, Fletcher had to turn and tilt his head upwards to meet her eyes. “If you feel uncomfortable at any time, let me know. And preferably if you slide off? Do it on the side I’m on.”

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"Sort of?" Elsa raised her eyebrows, a chuckle escaping her lips. "I think I'll just go with vanilla," she commented, as if to herself. Some, including the woman beside her, might consider the flavor boring, but the stranger flavors had never had much appeal in her eyes.

“I’m watching you, Little Miss Arendelle,” the blonde continued to tease, not really meaning anything by it. “Although when you mention it, it does sort of sound like me.”

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"Eighteen," the blonde murmured sheepishly, green eyes slipping away. She opened her mouth to say more, to tell him about the energy and positivity she'd admired from a distance for years, but decidedly shut it; the coffee was her excuse to change the subject. "I think I'll just have an espresso."

“Oh,” he smiled with a nod, “Now I get it.” Eric chuckled lightheartedly before asking, “How old is she?” As they entered the coffee shop he looked up his options and then back to Elsa, “Hmm, probably a white chocolate mocha latte. And you?”

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There was something nostalgic about wondering what to wear to dinner; it was a dilemma (gosh, that made it sound so dramatic) that she hadn't had in years — since high school, really, on the few dates she'd gone on — and one that she certainly didn't miss.

Although the way Adam had initiated the dinner was glaringly different from the way most of their meetings were set up, it was still just that: a meeting. She'd attributed her tendency to dwell a bit longer than usual on her choice of attire to a lack of more pressing matters to fixate on; for once, they weren't meeting to discuss a plan of action, but to celebrate a victory, and though the concept was refreshing, it was hardly deserving of... well... this.

It wasn't a date, for God's sakes. Choosing a dress shouldn't have been this meticulous.

After settling on a modest sky blue number, she carefully made her way down the stairs, heels clicking audibly against the marble. The familiar ding of the doorbell rang in her ears, and before her sister or aunt had the chance, she strode over to the door and, taking a deep breath she hadn't anticipated needing, opened it.

The sight of Adam Bieste in a suit was by no means new, but even after seeing him like this countless times before, the blonde was FAR from jaded. "Adam," she greeted warmly, her green eyes settling on the colorful bouquet of flowers in his arms — from Rora's, no less. "Oh, those are beautiful," she murmured slowly, struggling to keep the slight confusion out of her voice. After a moment or so, she recovered, a soft smile tugging at her lips. "Really, you shouldn't have."

tenerife sea. // adam & elsa

People seldom believed Adam Bieste had a heart, for his cold and rude demeanor made them deem him incapable of having one. But that theory was severely shut down in this moment, for Adam’s heart banged against his ribcage so hard the man thought it might just burst out of it and make a run for itself.

As the blue monster hedged its way up the driveway to Elsa’s house, that possibility seemed more and more likely. Adam had never seen Elsa’s home this closely before, but the front of it was majestic. He killed the engine with a twist of the key and pushed the door open, taking the flowers Aurora had arranged for him as he slid out. He stood there for a while, debating how he felt about the whole thing. Did he like Elsa? Yes, of course he did. Was he attracted to her? Well, she was quite striking, but he’d always been too intimidated to see her that way. And yet, somehow, one morning in the park changed it all. Suddenly, she was a person, not unlike him, and he saw her in a different light. He wondered if that was why the invitation to dinner had come so easily. He should be regretting that right about now.

And yet, he didn’t. He didn’t regret asking her out. It wasn’t like this was a date, despite Henry’s claims. He was just… nervous? He didn’t know what to say to her other than talk about business. This dinner could go very wrong. Awkwardly wrong. He might offend her without meaning to; he was quite proficient at doing that.

He forced his feet to move, to take him to the door. He hoped she had staff to open it, just so he could prepare himself for a little while longer before being hit with the reality of all this. It seemed to take all  the determination he had inside him to ring the doorbell.

@elarendelle

[elarendelle-blog]

The blonde closed the remaining distance between them with meager hesitation, emerald gaze flitting up to the saddle; the stud had looked tall from a few feet away, but up close, he was massive. The stirrups hung a bit too high for her to reach on her own, but the hand he extended made the height seem a bit more manageable.

Still gnawing softly on her lip, she nodded. "I think so." Careful not to put all of her weight on his hand, she swung one leg over the horse's back and tentatively pulled herself up, brow furrowed in concentration. Once she'd mounted, she smiled down at him — a strange concept, considering he stood a few inches taller than her — and assented, "Okay. Thank you, and sorry about your hand."

“It’s a perfect day for riding.“ Volunteering at the equestrian center meant he’d dealt with his fair share of first timers, most of which were children but they did have a fair amount of adults. Stepping close to the horse, he held out a hand for Elsa to use as a boost up. “Are you able to seat yourself?“

While Sherlock was far from the most trained of horses, the stallion always did well while being led by the reigns. Fletcher wouldn’t risk her safety by offering her a ride otherwise. “We’ll start slow.“

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“Close to it,” she amended, a sheepish smile taking hold of her pink lips when he asked whether the weather or her work had been the culprit. “The weather is rather nice today.” Fletcher was far more perceptive than his business-minded older brother, she’d learned; he probably knew what the real answer was, but she didn’t like to openly acknowledge her own stress.

It invited pity, or worse: worry, neither of which she wanted or needed. But the man in front of her, despite perhaps believing otherwise, had helped her by taking her mind off of things. When he asked if she wanted to ride the horse, both of her eyebrows shot up. “I — uh... I’ve never ridden before,” she admitted, cheeks warming in embarrassment. Not even a pony at a birthday party. His offer to hold the reins was both generous and reassuring, and she took a small step closer, biting down softly on her lip. “But there’s a first time for everything, right?” The blonde gave a nervous laugh. “If you don’t mind, I’d love to.”

“Were you falling asleep on your feet?“ Fletcher’s tone was light, friendly, dropping the slightly formal tone he instinctively adopted when talking to those Philip had dealings with. “Is it the nice weather or are you working yourself too hard?“ Probably the latter.

“And I’m perfectly fine.“ Placing a palm on the horse’s flank, he offered. “Would you like to ride him back? The stable’s not too far from here. I can hold the reigns and lead the way.“

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"I have a little sister," she remarked, casting him a sidelong glance. "I think I'm prepared." Anna wasn't so little anymore (they were only three years apart, anyway), but she hadn't quite lost her childlike innocence and energy yet; Elsa couldn't help but envy her for that at times. "What'll it be for you?"

“I honestly don’t know either, but it sure comes in handy,” Eric chuckled, glad to be able to be so positive and energetic most days. “You sure? I promise I’ll try my best to tone it down since we’ve just met,” he joked, knowing he wouldn’t be all that hyper, but it was better to be safe and warn them than be sorry and freak them out.