Jack Frost x Reader (Snowflake)

Chapter 6 Fear

A/N: I was never going to finish this, but I started going through all my stories and decided that I needed to. This was one of my firsts that sent me spiraling. If anyone is still interested, I'll try to get through the plot and finish it soon.

You had woken in your own bed, something that hadn't happened in several days. Glancing around the room, you furrow your brow in confusion. The window was open and a soft and icy breeze swept through the room. Sitting up, you notice the fresh glass of water on the nightstand and eagerly sip it down, your throat being dry and tired from screaming earlier. Finishing off the glass and setting it aside, your eyes linger on a bunny made of ice on the nightstand. An emotion shot through you and you wondered briefly if this was another trick. Pitch had gotten good at that. Slowly reaching over and picking it up, you examined it in your hands.

A soft familiar blue glow emanated from it, you were sure that it would soon turn black in your hands. When it did not, another thought crossed your mind. One that made you feel something you hadn't felt in what felt like forever. Excitement. It didn't melt.

Placing it down as swiftly and carefully as you could, you scrambled out of bed and found yourself some fresh clothes. The cleanliness of the room helped lift your mood even higher and you pulled a brush through your hair. Cleaning yourself up even more, you tried your best to look presentable. If last night was real then you had an apology already on the tip of your tongue. Ready to race down the stairs, you paused at the sight of your door knob. Or there lack of. Glancing over to the bathroom door, you noticed the same thing. How were you going to explain that to your parents? 

Pushing the thought to the back of your head, you ran down the stairs. A noise in the kitchen alerted you to where to look. Sliding in on your socks, you looked at the freshly made pancakes on the table. You grinned. Jack stood there, a pan in hand and spatula in the other. Making eye contact, he stilled before he set it back down on a burner. When he was facing you again, he fidgeted with his fingers. Slowly approaching him, you cautiously reach your hand out and pick up his hands, his fingers curling around your own. It was him. It was actually Jack. 

Tears spilled down as you practically jumped into him, his arms encircling you and making you feel safer than ever. It was something that you needed. Sobs and hiccups escaped you, Jack rocking you both on his heels. Several moments passed and you moved from his arms, eyes puffy and red. "I'm sorry," you sniffled, guilt pouring from you as you recalled screaming at him in terror the night before. Jack was shaking his head. "Don't worry about it. Can you tell me what was wrong? Why you weren't taking care of yourself?" Worry was clear in his eyes and you sighed, knowing that you had to tell him what was wrong.

Sitting down to a plate full of pancakes, you smiled. "After breakfast."