When Our Paths Crossed~A Jelsa/LadyNoir Fanfiction~

34. Helping each other

"Forget, huh? As if it were that easy."

The platinum blonde found herself lost once again in the lingering memories from the previous week. A hand ran roughly through her hair in an attempt to supress the thoughts that really weren't helping at the moment. Elsa sprawled over the carpeted floor, stretching as much as she could before hunching herself into a tiny ball.

Jack observed, not at all amused at his friend's strange behavior, though quite curious at something that had just caught his eye.

"Hey, where did you get that scar from?" He frowned as he peeked an eye at the strange detail that adorned her ankle and up her calf.

It could have almost passed unnoticed if it weren't for Jacks sudden memory of that same scar during that trip to the water park. Seeing that if it were a minor or fairly resent cut it would have been healed and gone by then, Jack concluded it must had been a deep cut. But just how had she gotten it?

"Erm, it's nothing, just a scar," said Elsa dismissively, waving a hand to emphasize her point, though she remained looking at it with an unreadable expression in her pale features.

"I know it's a scar, dummy. I want to know how you got it," chuckled Jack, placing the book he'd been holding aside from his lap.

"Is it really important?"

"Every scar is important. Like this one here, from the time I got run by a bus--"

"You got run by a bus!" Her eyes were wide and he couldn't help but laugh, seeing his own reflection in them.

"Kidding. But I've got this."

Jack came closer to her now, lowering himself down to the ground and shoving his head to her, much like a puppy she realized, finding it cute.
She first ruffled his hair, fingertips skimming across its surface when she felt it.

"Holy shit, is that a horn?"

Jack chuckled, "From the time I fell down to that lake and almost froze to death."

Elsa had heard that story before, though it'd been abruptly and thoughtless. She knew just how mischievous Jack could be, a sly fox. It wouldn't be weird for him to suddenly be making up stories to merely amuse his best friend. But feeling that bump on his skull, and she now could see, too, a detail that had passed unseen throughout the months-- the tiniest of scars on his left temple, she shivered for she could not imagine a world in which he would have died. In which she would be alone.

Alone, so to speak, as she wouldn't have met him in the first place. It only served to show just how much they were connected. They'd meant to meet and be together. If he had died-- and if she had, too-- than none of this would be possible. None of this would be real.

He sat back and looked at her, and she had a feeling he was thinking the same.

"You've been acting weird recently, has something happened?" He asked. He knew her too damn well.

But oh, she did too.

"I could ask the same," Elsa smiled.

He shrugged, "I asked first. You are more important."

And right there she wanted to cry. Because she had him and she knew she could have lost him. But then she thought of Frost, who managed to tangle himself into her tendrils of thought whenever he wanted, whenever he could. She would never have him, he'd said so himself. Yet she felt she could lose him any time now. She already had, once, and she'd regretted it in silence, ever closed into the confinements of her room. But now she had Jack, whom she could talk to, who was there and had a presence. Who wouldn't leave her and ask her to forget.