Staff in hand, he crouched on the windowsill, his delicate footsteps more careful than usual as to not betray his presence to the solemn, white-haired girl standing motionlessly several feet ahead.
He strained to hear her voice, which could easily have been mistaken for the uncharacteristically arctic winds that were currently enveloping the strange ice castle they were in. it wasn’t unbearable or anything though, thought Jack as he tugged on the sleeves of his loose blue sweatshirt. But still, it was colder than usual, and colder than usual meant absolutely freezing for the average human.
“Do you know what it’s like?” asked Elsa softly then, her hand perched on the delicate bannister of snow and ice. “Do you know what it’s like to be around so many people, to be around such happiness and not be able to partake in any of it? Do you know what it feels like to be so alone?”
She spoke quietly, her head tilted up towards the full moon, luminous, sage and grand. Jack watched her curiously from his perch, wondering whom she was speaking to. The moon? Well, in that case, she was headed for some major disappointment, he decided. The moon wasn’t particularly forthcoming when it came to conversations. In fact, the moon wasn’t particularly forthcoming when it came to anything, really.
She was still silent, and Jack studied her expression, her head lifted, almost mournfully so, as she kept her gaze trained on the white glow above them. The moon was shining brighter than usual that night, lighting up the boundless expanse of darkness, no patch of sky left untouched. He decided to speak up.
“Maybe you should speak a little louder,” offered Jack unhelpfully, a crooked grin on his face. “I don’t think he heard you.”
This broke her concentration instantly, and Elsa spun around, first in shock and then in annoyance. She shot him a frosty glare. “Jack.”
“Elsa,” said Jack, as friendly as always. He beamed at her, stretching his long legs into a more comfortable position on the edge of the window.
She crossed her arms and leaned her back against the bannister, sighing, sounding slightly exasperated. “Do you make it a habit of spying on everyone?”
“No, you’re just special,” said Jack with a cheeky smile, undeterred by her unenthusiastic responses.
Elsa seemed to process this, and grew silent. “And how’d you get past my guard?” she asked suddenly, as though the thought had just occurred to her.
“That snow goon out there?” said Jack incredulously, grinning wider now, if that was even possible. “What’s he going to do, roll me up into a giant snowball?”
He laughed, leaning his head backwards on the icy frame.
“Hilarious,” said Elsa flatly, turning back around to look over her balcony.
Instantly, Jack stopped laughing, curious at the sudden apathy with which Elsa was responding to him. Usually she was far more vocal than this, far feistier, far more confident.
