[DISCONTINUED] Jack Frost X Reader

Chapter Two

You decided not to sketch anymore. The drawings were giving you a headache and a weird sense of déjà vú. You closed your sketchbook and glanced at the odd male figures on your wall one last time before trying to walk out your door. Key word: trying. The cold spot was directly in front of the doorway, and there was no way around it. You had a feeling that even if you bundled up in layers, you'd still feel the cold. You frowned at the cold spot and planted your hands on your hips. "Listen here, you. I want to get downstairs, and I can't with you in the way. So move!" you barked, feeling ridiculous for yelling at a cold patch of air, but then the spot moved out of your way. You smiled at it and said "Thank you," before plucking a pair of fuzzy blue socks from your dresser by the door and slipping them on, sliding out across the wooden floor like it was ice, laughing maniacally. When you had slid around the landing enough for your taste, you hopped onto the wooden banister for the stairs and slid down all the way to the end, giggling as a huge gust of wind pushed you down faster. You hopped off at the very end, landing on the floor and skidding into the living room where your family set up their tree. You could feel the spot behind you again, but instead of feeling annoying, it felt like an old friend. It seemed to be hovering in a confused way, so you decided to explain to it. "I'm used to the wind blowing through my house like that. It always does that," you whispered, not wanting to arouse suspicion. "Hey, do you want to help decorate the tree with us?"

It moved closer to you, giving you goosebumps, but you ignored them and smiled a tiny bit, whispering, "I'll take that as a yes." You slid up to the boxes of decorations and whispered lightly to the coldness. "Put your hand over the one you want to hang and I'll grab it, then do the same where you want it hung on the tree." It moved a tiny bit closer and you just barely restrained the shivers this time. You hovered your hand over the tops of the ornaments until you hit a very cold box. You suddenly felt the cold right under your hand and whispered "Okay," as you carefully reached around the cold bit and lifted out the ornament. You hung it on an icy branch and repeated the process, even draping tinsel and strings of popcorn, which you insisted on, even though it was old fashioned.

The coldness hovered over one last ornament, a glittering ball. A smile tugged at the corner of your lips and you admired the ornament as you lifted it out. It was silver and blue, slightly tarnished and worn from use. It had been your favorite ornament for as long as you could remember. You even had hazy memories of looking into the ornament and seeing your distorted baby reflection in the blue surface, the silver sparkling in the white lights.

You admired the ornament and nearly dropped it when you caught a glimpse of someone floating near the Christmas tree, their hand lightly holding a branch. But then it flickered and disappeared, and you shook it off with a shaky smile. The thing that bugged you the most was that the person looked like the boy from your dreams, the one with white hair.

Just as a test, you walked over to the tree and as you got near where the boy in the ornament was, it got colder, and the branch he had been holding was the coldest of all. You carefully inched your hand towards it, and delicately hung the ornament on the branch.

You stepped back and admired your handiwork, specifically grinning in the direction of the cold spot and the blue ornament. It was the only ornament you owned that wasn't green or red or reminiscent of Christmas. "Thank you," you whispered, and the cold came away from the tree, as if admiring it too.

"[Y/N], what are you smiling at?"

"Oh, um, nothing, mom. The tree just looks really great this year." Your smile grew.

"It does look more special than usual, but you don't usually smile that much."

"I'm excited that I'm finally 17, and all my friends are coming over to celebrate plus family."