I don't like this feeling

                                    

                                          
TW: blood, talk of abuse, internalized homophobia. 
                          
Hope you still enjoy, I have some questions at the bottom which I would love for you to answer 💖❤💖❤

                          
Freya POV:
                          
She woke up relatively early that day. The sun had barely begun to rise. 
                          
Freya quickly put on a warm dress with pants underneath and a pair of dark boots. Since she was up early she could as well just go and get ready to meet Frida for their morning walk. 
                          
Freya walked carefully down the stairs, trying her best not to wake her mother. When she was down the stairs, she took her jacket and snuck out of the house without making a sound. 
                          
No one was up, not even the men. The snow laid on the ground in a fine powder that crunched when you walked on it. A beautiful winter day really. 
                          
She walked until she reached the end of the forest, she usually didn't go any further as the forest was quite scary alone. Freya usually waited for Frida here, but Frida seemed to be running late. 
                          
After 20 minutes of waiting, Freya walked into the forest alone. She quickly found Freya's tracks and followed them. It took about 40 minutes of walking until she heard footsteps. 
                          
Freya hid behind a tree and watched as the person continued to walk. She looked out from behind the tree and saw, to her surprise, Frida. She was carrying two heavy-looking pieces of wood and had stopped walking. 
                          
Frida bent down and put the wood down. Freya realized she had probably heard her and decided to come out. 
                          
"Frida, what are you doing?" 
                          
Frida turned around so quickly that Freya was barely able to process it and then lifted her first, ready to punch her if she was an intruder.
                          
"Don't punch me!" Freya squealed while putting up her arms in front of her face.
                          
"I am not going to hurt you Freya, but you scared me," Frida said gently taking Freya's hands in her own and pulling them away from her face.
                          
Freya smiled up at Frida. Frida's cheeks were slightly pink from the cold which made her look utterly adorable. Who could have thought that Frida, a soulless woman, could be this cute? 
                          
"What are you doing out here? You missed our morning walk," Freya pouted, remembering why she had walked out here. 
                          
Frida's eyes widened in realization. "I am so sorry! It is just that, something came up, and I had to do it today. I am so sorry I didn't tell you about it."
                          
Freya cupped her cheeks with her gloved hands, her cheeks growing even pinker. Was her hands that cold?
                          
"Can I come with you on this thing you are doing?" Freya asked, not once looking away from Frida's eyes. Frida had beautiful, icy, blue eyes. It looked like when the ice would crack on the blue ocean.
                          
Frida seemed to be contemplating something. What could it be? Did she have some secret project out here that would distract her from going out with Freya?
                          
"Maybe not today. But I will tell you eventually," Frida finally said.
                          
Freya had to admit that she was a little sad and disappointed. What was so important that Frida couldn't share it? "That is ok, take your time. I will be here for whatever you need. But we are taking the walk tomorrow," Freya said. She wanted Frida to feel as though she could talk to her about anything.
                          
Frida smiled brightly and nodded. "I will be looking forward to it."
                          
Freya turned to leave, but before she left, she kissed Frida on the cheek, dangerously close to her mouth. She then hurried away, only sparing a second glance back at Frida, chuckling at how comical she looked.