Lovers: XOXO [the guidebook]

❤️/East:_snow

  ⋆͛*͛ ͙͛ ⁑͛⋆͛*͛ ͙͛(๑•﹏•)⋆͛*͛ ͙͛ ⁑͛⋆͛*͛ ͙͛  MERRY CHRISTMAS Y'ALL! ｡*ﾟ✲*☆(๑òᆺó๑)｡*ﾟ✲*☆

-Letalis

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James stared into the black, button eyes of a Rotting Man. It was a horrifically misshapen thing, its bulbous head drooping to one side and its numerous twiggy arms jutting out of its swollen, lumpy gut. Around where its neck should be, a long icicle that resembled a dagger's blade without its hilt and guard stuck out from its jugular like a stake. When he eventually spotted the forgotten carrot laying at the monster's amorphous feet, the ten year-old prodigy raised a brow. 

"Is this supposed to be a snowman?"

For the better part of an hour, James had been searching non-stop for his step-sister after his violin practice quota had been filled and his homework was finished. As it was the holidays, he had more free time on his hands as per usual which meant he had more time to kill with his favourite person in the world: Violet.

"The hot chocolate's going to get cold," he grumbled as he kicked a dusty mist of snow at the Rotting Snow Man. While James had been raking their painfully large mansion for Violet, he had come across their head maid Matilda who was preparing some hot chocolate in their kitchen. 

"Last time I saw the little mistress, she was heading towards the garden," the elderly housekeeper told him. "I thought she would like some hot cocoa when she comes back."

Since then, half an hour had passed. 

"Where is she?" James half-jokingly asked the Rotting Snow Man. The weather outside was a pleasant kind of cold; the sun, unobstructed by clouds, was out in full force, making the ice crystals in the snow sparkle like diamond dust. The temperature was a few degrees above bearable, so James suspected that his other half was still somewhere in their garden, probably watching him from behind one of the large snow banks that had been formed when the gardener cleared the cobblestone walkways that lined the garden. 

"Where is she?" he asked the Rotting Snow Man again, his feet planted firmly to the ground. Mom always said that if you want someone to come to you, pay them no attention and wait.

They'll always come to you if you wait. 

Intending to draw her out through inaction, James waited patiently for something to react. A few seconds later, a snowball flung from his right hit him square in the jaw. 

"Violet?" James gasped, his eyes searching for the source of the snowball. His eyes panned over the deserted garden and found nothing but snow.

"Violet?"

Before he could guess where the snowball had come from, another snowball hit him right in the face. 

James wiped the snow off his face and glared at the mounds of snow a few feet away from him. 

Is she over there?

Cautiously, James took a step forward, and then another. But the second he took his third step, another snowball was launched his way, hitting him in the shoulder. He wasn't hit for the vain though; James was able to catch the flicker of a hand behind one of the mounds as it released its ammunition. 

No wonder I couldn't see her, James thought, carefully examining the moment in his mind. She's wearing a white coat. 

Hastily, James bent down and grabbed a handful of snow before running behind a snowbank adjacent to where he thought Violet was hiding.