@wvinterisms || s.c.
his hand is gentle when it grasps elsa’s. she had hesitated when she reached for his face, as if she was afraid she would hurt him. so, instead he quietly guides her fingers until they touch the scar running along his cheek. it’s a silent permission. she’s curious. she always has been, he could see it in her eyes every time they spoke. sometimes when they were saying nothing, quiet moments when she was supposed to be at her desk pouring over paperwork. he would catch her glancing up at him with a thoughtful gaze. but he doesn’t mind it now. he wants to be seen by her. to be known. “ what is it? ” he murmurs softly, brows pulling together as he wonders what it is that runs through her mind every time she looks at him like that.











