Kristoff Eismann

"Oh!" Anna exclaimed as she realized she misread another social situation. She quickly moved her hand away, pulling her purse up more onto her shoulder. "Not pizza or tacos like usual? Like, an actual sit down restaurant?" Anna questioned, a big grin forming on her face. Getting casual take out food was a cheap option but Anna still had fun spending that time with Kristoff after a long shift.

"You know what, now I have the money to spend for my half. Let's do it! Where did you have in mind?" The possibilities were endless: 'Pasta? Steak? Sandwiches?! with fries?' Her stomach rumbled with hunger as she thought of so much food.

"And a gift too?" she was bewildered. "What's the occasion? My half birthday was last month! Wait, don't tell me!" It was a gift after all so it had to stay a surprise until Kristoff gifted it to her. Anna giggled but was really excited about receiving a random gift regardless of what it was for. "But yeah, we can go to your place after dinner," she replied. "We better hurry to the parking lot because I am getting hungry already!"

The words shot out of his mouth like bullets, far too fast and far too loud. He was moving toward Anna like a derailed train, which felt fitting, because this whole situation had all the grace of a train speeding straight at him and knocking the air clean out of his lungs.

Breathe, Kristoff. Remember to breathe.

He tried to steady himself, forcing his shoulders to relax even as his heart pounded like it was trying to escape his chest. Why was this so hard? He had faced blizzards, wolves, trolls, and mountain cliffs, yet one outing with Anna had him more terrified than all of them combined.

“I was more thinking… picnic in a park type of situation,” he said, clearing his throat awkwardly. “With a movie afterward?”

Like a date, he thought, his face flushing so hot he was sure it could melt snow.

“And then we can go to my place so I could give you the gift I got for you!” he added quickly, as if blurting it out faster would somehow make it less embarrassing.

He winced internally the second the words left him. Smooth, Kristoff. Real smooth.

Still, he managed a grin and held out his hand to her. “Well, I won’t keep you waiting, so let’s go.”

His fingers closed gently around hers as he guided her toward his car. Well… Sven’s car, if he was being honest. Shared ownership was only fair, considering Sven acted like he made most of the decisions anyway.

-----

Before they knew it, they had arrived at the park. The nerves that had nearly swallowed Kristoff whole during the drive began to settle as he stepped out and moved to the other side of the car.

He opened the door for Anna and helped her out like the gentleman he was trying very hard to be. Then he reached back in and grabbed the picnic basket, which was packed with an impressive spread of delicious food—thanks entirely to Kronk’s advice, though Kristoff would be taking at least partial credit if asked.

The park itself was beautiful, with a soft darkness and a gentle breeze rustling through the trees. Birds chirped overhead. It was peaceful, warm, and somehow made the moment feel even more important.

Kristoff glanced at Anna, suddenly nervous all over again, but this time he smiled.

Anna looked around the lobby and spotted her replacement walking nearby. "Hey you, over here!" she called out to her coworker. "My shift's over, you have to take over the food counter now." Anna could have sworn she saw her coworker rolled their eyes, but she ignored it in case she was wrong. She thanked them then made her way to the break room.

Sprinting into the break room, Anna almost bumped into Kristoff but stopped herself just in time. "Oh, whoops! Sorry about that, Kristoff," she apologized. "I'm just so excited thinking about the new place I moved into." Kristoff was someone who Anna considered her work bestie. Actually, Kristoff might have been Anna's best friend compared to everyone she knows. Working with him over the years, Kristoff always managed to make Anna smile.

Anna went over to her locker, carefully turning the dial to the correct numbers. She opened the locker and grabbed her phone and purse. Before heading out, Anna went up to Kristoff, looking up at him with a big grin on her face. "It's not common for us to get mid shifts," she commented. "What are you planning on doing with all the extra free time tonight?"

Kristoff fumbled—actually fumbled—when the woman of his dreams, Anna Arendelle, nearly knocked him clean off his feet in her rush to clock out at the end of her shift. It wasn’t even her fault. Anna had always moved like that when she was excited, like the world might outrun her if she didn’t keep up. And today? Today she had every reason to be.

She’d been talking about it all week—moving in with her sister and her sister’s girlfriend, Honeymaren. A fresh start, she’d called it, her eyes bright and hopeful in a way that made Kristoff’s chest ache with something warm and painful all at once.

He steadied himself after the near-collision, offering a half-laugh that came out more breathless than intended, even if she barely slowed down long enough to notice. Of course she didn’t—she was already gone in a blur of energy and excitement, leaving him standing there like he’d just been hit by a very enthusiastic storm.

Gone. Yeah. That was a good word for it.

Because he was—completely, hopelessly, embarrassingly gone for Anna Arendelle.

And it wasn’t like he hadn’t tried to move on. He knew her history. Everyone did. Hans. That whole mess. The kind of heartbreak that didn’t just fade because someone better came along. And Kristoff… well, he had always settled for what he could have. Her laughter across the break room. Her habit of looping her arm through his when she was cold. The easy way she called him her “work bestie,” like that title alone didn’t both make his day and quietly wreck it.

At least her sister wasn’t oblivious. Kristoff had caught the knowing looks more than once, the subtle nudges, the way she’d linger just a second too long whenever Anna and Kristoff ended up side by side. She’d even given him a quiet sort of blessing once—something along the lines of if Anna ever opens her eyes, don’t let her slip past you.

Big if.

Still… he’d held onto that.

And maybe that was why he found himself standing there now, heart doing something wildly uncooperative in his chest, as he watched the locker room door swing shut behind her.

He exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face. “Nice going,” he muttered to himself. “Just stand there like an idiot. Real smooth.”

He had been planning this. Thinking about it for days—no, weeks. Running through what he’d say, how he’d say it, when the right moment would be. And then the moment actually happened, and his brain had apparently decided to take the evening off.

He leaned back against the wall, staring at the floor like it might offer better advice than his own thoughts. He could still back out. Pretend he’d forgotten something. Catch her tomorrow, or next week, or… never.

Yeah. That sounded about right.

Except—no. No, he was tired of “maybe someday.” Tired of watching her smile at him and wondering if she’d ever smile like that because of him.

The locker room door creaked open again, and Kristoff’s head snapped up so fast it almost hurt.

There she was again—coat on now, ready to leave.

And if he didn’t say something now, he never would.

“Hey—wait,” he called, his voice catching just slightly before he managed to steady it. He pushed himself off the wall, closing the distance between them before his nerves could convince him to do otherwise.

“Actually…” he started, then paused, his thoughts scrambling into something that vaguely resembled coherence. “It’s funny you asked.”

Not funny. Not funny at all. Why did he say that?

He pushed forward anyway, because if he stopped now, he wouldn’t start again.

“I was wondering if I could take you out,” he said, the words tumbling out a little faster than intended. “Like—not just, you know, grabbing food after work. I mean… really take you out.”

There it was. Out in the open. No taking it back now.

He swallowed, then added, a bit softer, “I might have a gift for you. Back at my place.”

And suddenly, his brain latched onto the detail that had been both his saving grace and his biggest risk.

The cake.

Not just any cake—Kronk’s cake.

Kristoff had gone all the way to Evangeline to ask him for help, which had resulted in an enthusiastic, slightly chaotic baking session that somehow ended in perfection. Kronk had taken it very seriously too—talking about “precision,” “presentation,” and at one point, something about listening to the cake’s “inner voice.” Kristoff didn’t understand half of it, but the result? It was easily the best thing he’d ever seen come out of a kitchen.

Which meant there was absolutely no way his siblings had resisted it.

He could already picture it: a suspiciously uneven edge, a slice missing, someone insisting it “looked like it needed testing.”

Kristoff resisted the urge to groan, pressing his lips together as he waited, heart pounding harder with every passing second.

“Well?” he asked quietly, the word almost getting lost in the space between them.