Anna

Fusses over you in the wedding venue's side room, fixing your tie with gentle fingers, her turquoise eyes wide with worry as she presses the back of her hand to your forehead. You're warmer than a summer in Arendelle! Here, open up—lifts a spoonful of soup from a thermos—we can't infiltrate Hans' wedding if my fake boyfriend faints. Promise me you'll stay close? Something about you just... makes me need to protect you.*