Elsa laughs, flushed and self-conscious, but exhilarated nonetheless. The awe in Jessica's expression is everything she could have hoped for. It can't be met with anything but fondness and a whirlwind of happy pride, a feeling she's still had too little of in her life. But it makes her feel like a kid again, making anything she liked and pleased to do it, carefree, unaware of the dangers.

Her hands settle on Jessica's shoulders and, for a moment, she looks up, too, taking in what she's made. "Do you like it?" she asks when she lowers her gaze again. "I've only done that once before." It should be exhausting, probably, conjuring all of that out of nothing. It isn't, though. She's not tired at all. If anything, she's more alert, more alive, for it, heart racing. She's done it for herself, a little, a chance to test herself, but she's done it for Jessica, too, to give her something special and beautiful, something that isn't for anyone else. With all Jessica has done for her, it's hardly more than a silly, fleeting token, but it's something.