Despite hours of practice the night and morning before, Elsa was not prepared. Though there were only twenty-three sets of eyes to look at her, it felt as if every single person on the planet had crammed into the tiny classroom to watch her perform.

The blonde made her way onto the "stage" (an area at the front of the class that was cleared of desks) and held her uke in trembling white hands. Her eyes scanned the crowd, searching for that source of red she had admired from behind all year long. Upon finding it, teal eyes locked with her own cerulean, causing her to gasp. Elsa certainly hadn't expected such rapt attention.

But eye contact was a key to communication, and communication was a key to success.

And, as far as Elsa was concerned: success was all that mattered right now.

So she sat on the stool that was waiting for her, and held the gaze of Anna. She allowed herself to fade everyone else out, ignore their cool stares, and see only the smile that was forming at the edges of pink lips.

Lifting her ukulele to her hips, she began.

"Hello. I'm Elsa, and this is-"

"Elsa?" Mr. Eros interrupted. Elsa grit her teeth, her carefully planned presentation already messed up.

"Yes?" she hissed, eyes darting to where he stood for a fraction of a second

"Who exactly are you playing this for?"

Suddenly the room was full of people again, all clamoring for her answer. Her palms grew sweaty, her knees went weak, and for some reason she was just so hungry for her mom's spaghetti.

"For...Anna."

There wasn't a moment's pause after that before Elsa's fingers strummed through the notes she knew so well. White digits danced gently across nylon, plucking and strumming a tune that seemed to have written itself for Elsa to play, and to be played for Anna to listen to.

"Hey girl, won't you just be my girl?
I swear, I can rock your world.
Haha, uh…

I know it's hard, and not quite fair
and the things we do…
might get a few stares, but,
please just forget
all of that bull shit.
We can work it out.

I can't figure out
these feelings quite right,
they're running all through mind-"

A beep signalled she had only a ten seconds left.

"Oh, shit. Uh,
I am running out of time
so will you just be my
Val-en-tine?"

Elsa wasn't sure what she had expected at the closure of her song. But it certainly wasn't the flash of copper that came towards her at lightning speed. The notion of arms wrapping themselves tightly around her neck had never been in any of her endings. Smooth lips pressed against her burning cheek wasn't factored into the equation.

Neither was the warm breath on her ear that sounded like "Yes."

But she sure wasn't going to complain.