Chapter Twenty-Two

3.9K 189 78
                                    

Queen Elsa

“Pitch.” I snarl, narrowing my eyes at his form, his black figure contrasting sharply against the pure white snow. He laughs, slowly advancing toward me, but something white and cold stops him.

“Not so fast, Pitch.” a warm, familiar voice says, and I feel something funny at the pit of my stomach, like butterflies taking flight.

“Frost.” Pitch says disdainfully, and I find myself looking at the man in front of me. His back is facing me, but I can see his silvery-white hair, disheveled as usual. He wears a blue jacket, with brown pants to match, but what I long to see is his blue eyes. His ice blue eyes that seem so cold at first but is really so soft and warm and kind. His eyes.

“Jack?” I find myself whispering, and even though the wind is blowing and the blizzard is still at full speed, he hears me.

He turns around, and his blue eyes meet mine, and I feel so many emotions running through me. I think it makes the blizzard stronger, but right now, I don't care. All I see is him, and those amazing blue eyes and I forget everything that is happening around us. My arms are wrapped around his neck, hugging him, not caring if he's cold as ice. His coldness is somewhat familiar to me, and I like it. His arms are around my waist, and I close my eyes, cherishing this moment. Letting myself enjoy his embrace.

It ends too soon, though, too soon as we hear Pitch's voice, “Love. Disgusting.”

Jack tears himself away from me, reluctantly, and faces Pitch, “You are going to pay for this.”

Pitch walks around us, seeming lost in thought, when suddenly, he disappears into the shadows. Jack growls, his blue eyes darting around, searching for Pitch. I look around as well, hoping to find the slimy scoundrel, when all of a sudden, Jack shouts, “Elsa, watch out!” and I am thrown to the side, the wind getting knocked out of me.

By the time I get up, I see one of the most horrendous sights of my entire life. Pitch is standing over Jack, looking really smug, his gray lips curled up into a triumphant smile.

Jack lies at his feet, unmoving. Is he dead?

No. He can't be dead! Can guardians even die? I don't think so. He isn't dead, right?

Melting the ice (Jelsa)Where stories live. Discover now