There Are Love Stories That Start With A Kiss


And most of the times, they're just out of sorts...

Humor / Romance
Age Rating:

Chapter 1

This was getting stupid.

Elsa Arendelle mused to herself as she scanned the area in disdain. The sound of music blasted loudly as if everyone was celebrating the last night of the world. The whiff of booze constantly invaded her nostrils and even she thought she'd get drunk just by the stench of it. Moreover, the public display of raging hormones on the dance floor wasn't a pleasing sight at all.

It was Saturday evening. She was supposed to be cooped up in her home office, reviewing important files of her architectural business. Especially a pile of resumes for the interviews she scheduled on Monday. She was supposed to be looking for someone suitable to be her executive secretary that night. How her sister, her cousin and their best friend had managed to drag her out of the house, persuaded her to join their group date in a disco club, she would never know.

It must have been her concern that none of them would be able to walk straight after that night. Elsa just couldn't let the ladies drive while intoxicated. Never again.

Or the fact that this might have been one of the ladies' schemes to secretly meet up with their boyfriends, and it was her car they wanted to use. So, unless she was the one driving it, they couldn't go anywhere.

It was, after all, their fault for crashing her younger sibling's car on a government property, so now they lack driver's licenses for penalty.

And no. The three pairs of big goo goo eyes didn't work.

Elsa sighed, impatiently drumming her fingers beside her lemon juice on the table.

It really was getting stupid sitting there, out of place, doing nothing but glance around the area, cringe at the sight, then grimace at her sister and her cousin who were drowning themselves in different kinds of cocktails glass after glass. Not to mention, she couldn't even spot the shadow of their best friend. That aggressive woman might have been trying to find a fight somewhere in the middle of the crowded dance floor already!

But nothing could get any more stupid than the question of her younger sister just then.

"Say Elsa...are you lesbian?"

The elder woman blinked. Anna seemed to ignore her and her stand-off attitude for the whole night, and that was the first thing she thought to ask? Obviously, those gallons of alcohol had already gone up her sister's brain.

She sighed again, trying so hard not to roll her eyes, "Anna, you're drunk."

"No, no, no, no. No, no. I mean, think about it. You're turning 27 already, and you don't even have a boyfriend! Actually, you never had a boyfriend. It's not like you're a man-hater, right? Wait. Are you? Anyways, the thing is, I've never even seen any boy close to you before! Well, except for Papa, and your male employees and our cute wittle brother, Tarzan..." At this, Anna practically cooed. "But the point is, you didn't have any relationship with them! Wait, eww... That sounded gross right there...I can't have a relationship with..." Elsa almost uncharacteristically slapped a palm against her forehead at that statement.

"You know what, let me rephrase that. You didn't have a relationship with any boy before! And I've been spying on you the whole time! Oh. Wait. I shouldn't have said that. I should NOT have said that. Forget I said that. But really? Have you even kissed a boy before?" Anna blabbed continuously, not a slur in her words despite her reddened face and her exaggerated flailing for emphasis.

Elsa massaged the bridge of her nose, trying to ease the impending headache this stupid issue ensued, "I'm not a lesbian, Anna. I assure you that. And how can you be so sure I haven't kiss a boy before?"

"Well, I never saw it," her sister crossed her arms across her chest in smugness. Drunken Rapunzel who was giggling throughout the whole rant just nodded her golden-blonde head in agreement and giggled even more. "Why not prove it? Like...right now?"

That did not sound good. Oh no. Especially when the strawberry-blonde started to scan the group of men in the bar, trying to find someone. Someone whom her younger sister would consider a lab rat for the night. And Elsa could no longer hold back a roll of her eyes.

"How about that guy?" Elsa could have ignored where Anna's finger was pointed, but even the other hand forced her face towards the direction.

"Cool white hair," Rapunzel suddenly intervened, throwing her own two cents in.

"Handsome chin," Anna added dreamily while leaning against their cousin.

"Kissable pinkish lips," the drunken ladies in front of her puckered their lips up as if to emphasize.

"Ooooh, and that physique!" Both girls then dramatically fanned themselves and swooned like they didn't have boyfriends hiding in the crowd somewhere.

"Mm-mm! Hottie!" They both exclaimed in sync.

"You've drank way too much for the night girls. I think it's time to head home. I'm going to find Merida and—"

But Elsa was interrupted by her sister's gasp, who also had eyes widened in shock, "Don't tell me you have a crush on Merida?!" Even Rapunzel heaved an overly-dramatic gasp herself.

"W-what?! I don't have a crush on Merida! That's it! We're going hom—"

And she was cut off once again as the current subject of their bout finally came back to their table.

"Whacha gilsh talkin' about?" Merida asked in curiosity with a slur and a slight sway on her steps.

Anna turned to the red-head with a bright smile and stated like it was the most natural thing in the world. "Whether or not Elsa has a crush on you." Rapunzel giggled more and more.

The elder sister had a strong urge to rip her platinum hair off at that moment, almost completely loosing her usual perfect composure. But even her hardened poise didn't stand a chance as Merida's feature turned sullen and the red-head rubbed her nape somehow disappointedly as she slowly sat down on her own chair.

"Look, Elsha. Yah shee, I a'ready haff a boyfriend an—"

There was a sudden screech of chair as Elsa stood up indignantly and walked away. But if only had she spared a glance back to the other three, the platinum-blonde could have seen the crazy grins of victory etched on the ladies' fuddled faces. After all, she did swerve from the direction of the exit door and instead strutted towards the white-haired man leaning casually against the wall.

At the very back of her mind, Elsa knew not to heed the words of a drunken person. But she won't be denounced as a homo by others, let alone by her younger sister. Not that she have anything against gays or lesbians. But if the accusation was directed at her, now that was another story.

So, with insulted conviction, the platinum-blonde halted before the young lad with a soft click on her heels.

Elsa observed the quick shifting of his eyes. Not in the nervous way. Rather, he was confused. Such a questioning look he gave her that she could almost imagine him pointing goofily at himself.

Feeling the slight bit of guilt, she tried to apologize to the stranger, "Pardon me for this rude act, sir. But my reputation as a female is on the line," before she grabbed his collar and crashed her lips against his.

There was shock registered in his ice-blue eyes. Elsa saw, for she didn't dare close her own. Closing her eyes would only imply she was trying to feel it.

Funny though. The irony of that experience with what she was expecting.

It was soft, yes. But instead of warmth, his lips felt cold. It wasn't as smooth either. A bit chapped, she was sure. And she smelled vodka instead of the minty or masculine scent (whatever that meant) those books had described. Apparently, they were lying: those authors of the romance novels Anna forced her to read when they were just teenagers.

She also noticed the cold breeze coming directly from above them.

Perhaps that's why, she thought.

It seemed though, Elsa was too focused on the AC that she had failed to realize her eyes were already fluttering close.

That his arms had wrapped itself around her back, coincidentally supporting her weight on her buckling knees.

How the scent of vodka had somehow reached her taste buds.

That the cold of his lips was replaced by the warmth behind those.

That her tongue had started dancing with his to a rhythm far different from the music of their actual surroundings.

And for the longest 29 seconds of her life, Elsa literally forgot how to breathe.


All of a sudden, her eyes grew wide.


And wider in alarm as her current predicament finally sunk into the motor cortex of her brain.

Faster than the white-haired man could blink, Elsa roughly pushed him away, raised her hand and slapped him across his face. Then she dashed out of the building, not even considering how uncalled that slap was for. The woman just ran as fast as her heels could make her. The operation of her brains cells temporarily stalled.

Before she knew it, one arm had already seek support at the hood of her Audi SR8, while the other clutched at her heaving chest.

What in the world was that?!

Elsa continued to gasp for much needed air as she finally started analyzing what just happened.

Well, she did ran all the way to the parking l—

No! Before that!

The woman vigorously shook her head.

It can't be. It was nothing. Nothing at all. She barely knew him, not even his name.

No, no. The chemical signals carried to the brain by the many nerve endings on the lips just sent a false alarm to her heart.

Or maybe, it was just because she wasn't breathing at all. She wasn't sure how long, but inadvertently, she was certain she didn't breathe during the ki—


Elsa desperately ignored the instant acceleration of her heart beat as she continued to think of more logical reasons to counter the traitorous side of her mind that suspiciously sounded more like the hopeless romantic Anna than her practical self.

Perhaps, it was just her subconsciousness trying to warn her that the stranger had a contagious disease or something.

Elsa paused at the thought. "Oh God..." Then her palms cupped her face in a panicked gesture. "He didn't have AIDS, did he?!"

Jack Frost blinked dumbfounded at the exit door, while his palm rested on his aching cheek.

He was no longer sure what exactly happened. There he was enjoying his vodka and the cold blast of the AC above him while contemplating if it was a good idea accompanying his buddies to meet up with their girlfriends.

He should have been practicing for his job interview. Or playing with his favourite niece and nephew that weekend. But, no. The big boys dragged him out of the house and even the little devils he called his favourite kids in the world helped kicking him out.

There was obviously some bribing there. He bet.

No matter, he was starting to regret ever coming there. His pals have gone somewhere he might never want to find out where, leaving him alone to fend for himself. Needless to say, he was getting really bored.

Then she came towards him. Pale, elegant beauty...with a rather formal outfit. White button-up blouse, grey slacks, black stiletto heels, and platinum-blonde hair in a seemingly very tight bun; she stood out like a sore thumb amongst the spaghetti straps, mini skirts, and whatnots that swarmed the place. Seriously, when she strutted towards him with such clothes and regal ambience, he thought he had done something wrong leading to a big trouble with the manager of that club. Probably because he was hogging the cold air of the AC all to himself.

Then the woman said something he could barely register. The next thing he knew, she was on his lips.

Utterly shocking, of course. I mean, it wasn't everyday that some random stranger kissed Jack Frost on a whim. No matter how handsome he knew he might be.

But the shock was short lived as his usual mischievous self surfaced, daring to make the action more...enjoyable. At least on his part.

But when she unconsciously responded in his favour?

Yup. It was worth coming to that place after all.

Hell, the thought didn't even waver even after she abruptly shoved him away, expression horrified, graced him a stinging facial abuse, then sprinted off leaving only a lingering taste of lemon mixed with vodka and a reddening hand print on his left cheek.

"Hi Jack!" Suddenly, amidst his bewildered daze, a familiar golden-blonde run passed him, giggling like crazy towards the exit door.

"Bhye Jhack!" followed by a red-head also quite familiar, occasionally bumping into things and people as she staggered behind the golden-blonde.

"You owe us real big, buddy..." and another familiar face grinning maniacally, turning her strawberry-blonde head to wink at him while chasing after the other two and keeping balance on her feet.

Jack Frost just blinked once again.

Monday afternoon, Elsa sat in her office, allowing a moment of ungracefulness as she slumped against her swivel chair.

To say she was tired was an understatement. She was exhausted.




She would have to be considering the onslaught of unfortunate events thrown at her yesterday that seemed to continue until that day.

Of course she went to the doctor. Paranoid as she was, she had her check-up. Fortunately, the wary woman was cleared of any disease possibly transmitted to her. Though not from the snort and contorted expression of suppressed laughter from the doctor when asked why did she think she had AIDS in her perfectly good health. And stupid she had spoken the truth.

She kissed a random stranger because of an unreasonable indignation.

Well, at least, Elsa didn't have to deal with terminal diseases. Though, it didn't ease her that much for that was one possibility out of the list to deny the thunder inside her rib cage that continued its wrath.

Or why in the world that stranger's face got stuck in her head to the point her eyes began deceiving her of false images of him.

Going home, Elsa planned to scan the resumes of the applicants. Keep herself distracted. Make herself busy to ignore things she just had to ignore. But then, she found Anna sleeping soundly on her own vomit, half-asleep Merida almost drowning in the hot tub, and Rapunzel crawling underneath the sofa in hangover agony.

Why did she ever agree they could stay the night anyway?

Evidently, all plans cooping up in her home office looking at piles and piles of documents flew out the window.

And when things didn't need to get worse, she'd caught herself reminiscing again the lip-lock incident she herself initiated, leading her to conjure more possible excuses (rational or not; like the probability she was just nervously embarrassed that she had done such a shameless act and the reaction was just extremely late) throughout the night to explain the current malfunctioning of her body system.

So there she was, with a touch of foundation and eye shadow to hide the evidence of a sleepless night, and the day still being cruel to her.

In other words, the interviews didn't go well. And she found herself pondering how people could be so...dumb. There were only six applicants so far and she already have the uncharacteristic urge to punch someone.

Elsa swore, if ever the last applicant of the day tried to hit on her, or dance like a chicken with a face of a monkey as a special talent in a futile attempt of appeasing her, she'd call security right away and have them throw the fool out that 15th floor's window.

Just then, the telephone rang. The woman picked the wireless receiver up while massaging her temple, "Yes?"

"The next applicant is ready, Ma'am," informed her retiring secretary.

"Let him in," to be honest, she didn't even dare look at the pictures of the applicants anymore, in fear her eyes woud trick her of that stranger's image again.

Before the knock came, she turned the chair away from the door to compose herself. Then as soon as the door opened and someone walked in, Elsa turned her chair around and move to stand up.

Only, the sight made her freeze on spot.

Cool white hair.

Handsome chin.

'Mm-mm! Hottie!' physique. Not that she would ever admit that.

Icy-blue eyes showing a brief glint of surprise before recognition settled in.

And those kissable pinkish lips turning into a smirk that Elsa would have never imagined such image would be a familiar sight from then on.


Later that Monday night, a certain trio received one same death threat from one same person through mail.

Fr: Elsa

I'm going to kill you three.

To which they only laughed at the very next day they discovered which company Jack has applied for.

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