Random One-Shots! {Character x Reader}

Snowflakes ~Jack x Reader~

This is a Jack Frost x Reader!

Jack got requested so here he is 😂

Enjoy!

~

There was once this boy that I saw, way back before. I was a child then, and he would always visit my room every evening, without my parents knowing. He has white frost hair and the brightest of blue eyes. He always wore his dark blue, frost dusted hoodie, and his brown pants. He was barefooted, and I complained he might get cold in winter nights, but he always told me he could handle the cold. He also has a wooden staff that he carries with him.

I would always open my tall windows just to let him in; my family's manor was dark and quiet at those hours. He always gave me this bright grin, telling me we'll play under the bright shine of the moon. I would sometimes disagree, telling him that Mama and Papa would scold me for leaving in the middle of the night, but somehow, I would oblige. Because who wouldn't love to play?

The best times he would ask me to join him in his night playtimes were winter nights. We would play in the snow, we would laugh, have snowball fights and build snowmen. The playtimes would seldomly happen only in summer time. In this case, we just play inside with my toys, and he always amuse me with his tricks.

Sometimes, he would show me his magic. Yes, he has one, and he told me that it's really nice. He can touch the walls with his staff, and then suddenly a wave of frost would envelope my room. He could also fly, so he sometimes carry me and toss me gently around the room. In winter nights when I agree to play outside, he'd carry me in his arms and we enjoy the city's lights that look pretty under the moonlight. I always enjoyed how the cold air would sweep against my locks.

We were always so close, ever since he knocked on my window's glass. We were almost inseparable, and I was happy we were that way. Even if I'm young and he's older, it's nice to cope with him for he acts like a child as well.

But even if we're so close, I never get to know his name.

I always ask him that question. Everytime all I get was a simple shrug which led me to pout. I also ask him if he plays with other children, similar to me. This would make him frown, and float while doing so.

"You're the only one I play with, (y/n)." He would say. Often I thought that it was a bit unfair to know my name but his I could not. "People don't appreciate me as much as you." He always told me that. And it led me to believe that maybe people didn't want to play with him because of how he looked. Then I would hug him and say it's alright, that I'll always be by him.

"I wish." He would mumble to himself.

As the years go by and as I grew up to be, let's say, eleven years old, the boy's enthusiasm isn't the same anymore. His snowball fights during winter nights only happen ever so often now, and when I ask him to fly us to our usual spot to play he would reject and tell me to just play inside. Sometimes he could be a kill joy. But I didn't complain.

It went on until I became sixteen. By that time I didn't see him anymore, he doesn't tap on my window anymore, and I would end up closing it anyway. I waited and waited and waited, but he didn't show up. I was afraid he didn't want to see me anymore, that because I grew up he wanted to look for another child to play with. I was desperate by now to see him, even a small glance would do, but it didn't happen. I was left empty handed.

In two years of waiting I wanted to give up. There was still no sign of him; no trace, it's like he disappeared like dust. I would cry sometimes, telling myself that I miss the lad. Where could he be? If he did leave me, then he should've left with an explanation.