?? Jelsa Oneshots ??

Elsa clutched the plastic bag in her hands, the warmth of the soup seeping through the thin material.
Jack had been sick the past few days, and she knew he was the absolute worst at taking care of himself. He always brushed off colds like they were nothing, yet he'd lie in bed complaining about how he's dying.

She smiled to herself, imagining the dramatic way he'd react when she scolded him. You made me soup? For me? He'd flash that teasing grin, eyes twinkling despite his fever. God, Elsa, are you in love with me or something?

Maybe I am, she thought, her heart skipping a beat.

She stepped out of the elevator, humming softly as she made her way to his apartment. The hallway was quiet, the soft hum of the city outside barely reaching her ears. As she reached Jack's door, she noticed it wasn't fully closed.

That's strange...

A small crease formed between her brows. She pushed it open gently, stepping inside.

And then—

Her world stopped.

There, against the dim glow of the apartment lights, was Jack.

His hands gripping Toothiana's waist, lifting her onto the dining table. His mouth was on hers, deep, consuming. Their bodies pressed together like they couldn't get enough of each other.

Elsa's grip on the bag tightened.

For a second, she thought her mind was playing tricks on her. Maybe it was the fever—maybe he was delirious—maybe—

But then Toothiana giggled against his lips, her nails digging into his hair, pulling him closer.

And Jack—

Jack kissed her again.

Elsa's breath hitched.

The bag slipped from her fingers. The quiet thud as it hit the floor sounded deafening in the silence.

Jack froze.

Slowly, he turned.

Their eyes met.

Elsa saw it all in real-time—the realization, the horror, the guilt.

"Elsa—" Jack moved as if to step toward her, but Elsa took a step back.

Her lips parted, but no words came out. She didn't know what to say. What was there to say?

Toothiana pulled her shirt back over her shoulder, awkwardly adjusting herself. "I—"

But Elsa wasn't looking at her. Her eyes were locked on Jack.

The man she thought—the man she was starting to love.

She took another step back. Then another.

Jack panicked. "Wait—Elsa, please—"

She turned. Walked out.

Jack rushed after her. "Elsa, wait, it's not—"

She spun around so fast he nearly crashed into her.

"Don't touch me."

Her voice was so quiet, yet it cut deeper than any scream.

Jack's hands hovered in the air, like he wanted to grab her, but knew he'd lost the right to.

She swallowed, blinking rapidly, willing herself not to cry.

Then she turned back around—and walked away.

And Jack—

Jack didn't stop her this time.

Because deep down, he knew.

She was never coming back.

****

Two years later.

Jack sat in his car, gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white.

He never thought he'd see her again. Not like this.

She was across the street, standing in front of a coffee shop, laughing at something Anna said. The sunlight hit her just right, making her look like a dream—like the dream he lost.

She looked... happy.

Jack had spent the last two years in hell.

After that night, Elsa disappeared. Blocked his number. Quit her job. Moved away. She erased him.

And maybe that was fair. He deserved it.

He had spent months trying to reach her, trying to explain, trying to say something. But what excuse could he possibly give?

That he was lonely? That he was stupid? That Toothiana meant nothing and Elsa meant everything?

None of it mattered. Because he had already destroyed them.

And now here she was—happy. Without him.

His chest ached.

She turned her head slightly, as if sensing something. And for a split second, their eyes met.

Jack's breath hitched.

Elsa froze.

And then—

She blinked, lips parting slightly... before turning away.

Jack's heart sank.

She doesn't even hate me anymore.

She was just... done.

He wanted to get out of the car. To run to her. To say something—anything.

But then—

A man walked up to Elsa.

Tall. Dark-haired. Well-dressed.

Jack watched in horror as the man gently tucked a strand of Elsa's hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering on her cheek.

Elsa didn't pull away.

Instead, she smiled.

A soft, genuine smile. The kind Jack used to be the reason for.

Jack felt like he couldn't breathe.

His grip on the steering wheel tightened, jealousy and regret tearing him apart from the inside out.

She moved on.

Without me.

A lump formed in his throat as Elsa turned to the man—her new lover—and linked her arm with his.

Jack watched as she walked away...

With someone who wasn't him.

And this time, he knew.

She was never coming back.