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Another tap.
The bird flutters impatiently, its small feet temporarily leaving the windowsill, a muffled tweet coming through the glass.
Completely numb, you rise from your place on the couch and walk over to the window.
But it blew up into snow, you think as you recall an isolated snowfall, looking down at the puffy white creature.
Its small, snowy eyes meet yours.
A new one? But…that’s impossible…that means…!
The bird hops over to the side of the ledge, where the window ends and wall begins. It taps multiple times at this spot, tweeting at you once again.
You understand.
Heart racing, your fingers find the frame.
And you open the window.
The cardinal zooms past you in a flurry of wind, its wings narrowly missing you. It circles up to the ceiling after a lap or two around the room, chirping excitedly.
All you can manage to do is watch it in its miniscule magnificence, completely surrendered to the spell it casts in its tiny flight, your back turned to the opened window as you observe the airborne critter.
Thin strands of snow trail from the tips of its wings as it soars, much like a Jetstream from a plane.
It definitely is a different bird.
A reminder of an event past.
Or…a continuation of a moment that was cut too short.
Bored with the rest of the house, the bird returns to you. You instinctively hold out a finger, and it plops down on you, its snowy complex sending a cool chill through your hand.
“I-If you’re here, then so must—”
The bird interrupts you with an animated tweet, looking past you, as if it has caught sight of a long-lost friend.
It lifts from your finger, flying back outside.
Following it, your hand slightly raised in protest, you turn around.
“Hey, where’re you goi—”
Then, you’re cut off, your words stolen from you.
Just inches from your face is a head of shaggy, snowy white hair. The back of a deep blue, frost-covered hoodie is merely centimeters from your fingertips. Your proximity lets you catch a whiff of pine trees and winter.
You take a leap back out of surprise, your eyes never wider, your heart threatening to beat out of your chest.
A long, wooden staff leans casually on the windowsill, its hook slightly invading the room. The cardinal has taken another perch on the pale finger of its creator, who is leaning against the windowsill, elbow propped up on the small ledge.
With a final, musical chirp, it flies off into the night.
It…it can’t be…
After watching the cardinal fly away for a few seconds, he stands up straight, taking up his staff in the process.
And then, he turns to face you.
A pair of wintery, deep blue eyes lock onto yours, accompanied by none other than the mischievous smile that you have come to know all too well.
You clasp your hand on your mouth, your jaw dropping. You take another step back.
“Heya, snowflake.” He leaps up onto the sill, balanced lightly on the balls of his feet in a crouch, his free hand resting in the pocket of his hoodie. “Long time no see.”
You blink and squint, going as far as pinching yourself to make sure this isn’t all a dream.
He chuckles, his eyes twinkling. “I’m real all right. It’s me, (your name). Y’know, me,…”
You feel confused, happy tears begin to well up in your eyes. He’s there. He’s really there…
“…Jack Frost!"
The bird flutters impatiently, its small feet temporarily leaving the windowsill, a muffled tweet coming through the glass.
Completely numb, you rise from your place on the couch and walk over to the window.
But it blew up into snow, you think as you recall an isolated snowfall, looking down at the puffy white creature.
Its small, snowy eyes meet yours.
A new one? But…that’s impossible…that means…!
The bird hops over to the side of the ledge, where the window ends and wall begins. It taps multiple times at this spot, tweeting at you once again.
You understand.
Heart racing, your fingers find the frame.
And you open the window.
The cardinal zooms past you in a flurry of wind, its wings narrowly missing you. It circles up to the ceiling after a lap or two around the room, chirping excitedly.
All you can manage to do is watch it in its miniscule magnificence, completely surrendered to the spell it casts in its tiny flight, your back turned to the opened window as you observe the airborne critter.
Thin strands of snow trail from the tips of its wings as it soars, much like a Jetstream from a plane.
It definitely is a different bird.
A reminder of an event past.
Or…a continuation of a moment that was cut too short.
Bored with the rest of the house, the bird returns to you. You instinctively hold out a finger, and it plops down on you, its snowy complex sending a cool chill through your hand.
“I-If you’re here, then so must—”
The bird interrupts you with an animated tweet, looking past you, as if it has caught sight of a long-lost friend.
It lifts from your finger, flying back outside.
Following it, your hand slightly raised in protest, you turn around.
“Hey, where’re you goi—”
Then, you’re cut off, your words stolen from you.
Just inches from your face is a head of shaggy, snowy white hair. The back of a deep blue, frost-covered hoodie is merely centimeters from your fingertips. Your proximity lets you catch a whiff of pine trees and winter.
You take a leap back out of surprise, your eyes never wider, your heart threatening to beat out of your chest.
A long, wooden staff leans casually on the windowsill, its hook slightly invading the room. The cardinal has taken another perch on the pale finger of its creator, who is leaning against the windowsill, elbow propped up on the small ledge.
With a final, musical chirp, it flies off into the night.
It…it can’t be…
After watching the cardinal fly away for a few seconds, he stands up straight, taking up his staff in the process.
And then, he turns to face you.
A pair of wintery, deep blue eyes lock onto yours, accompanied by none other than the mischievous smile that you have come to know all too well.
You clasp your hand on your mouth, your jaw dropping. You take another step back.
“Heya, snowflake.” He leaps up onto the sill, balanced lightly on the balls of his feet in a crouch, his free hand resting in the pocket of his hoodie. “Long time no see.”
You blink and squint, going as far as pinching yourself to make sure this isn’t all a dream.
He chuckles, his eyes twinkling. “I’m real all right. It’s me, (your name). Y’know, me,…”
You feel confused, happy tears begin to well up in your eyes. He’s there. He’s really there…
“…Jack Frost!"
Literature
I Will Be Your Guardian(Chapter 1)
Chapter 1-Our First Memory..With You..
The Next Day...
The morning shining so brightly. The birds were flying so free to everywhere with their beautiful chirping sound. The cool breeze with the falling snow were making the morning became more beautiful and peace. The sun rise with the melody of peace. The winter season for this year were the best season ever.
At Jamie's house,Jamie's mom and his little sister,Sophie were busying making the preparation for the christmas party for this year. But as for Jamie,he was still sleeping. Maybe he was too tired.
But,a few minutes later,he began to wake up. He opened his eyes and stared at the ceili
Literature
JackFrostXReader Chapter 2
Snow.
You stepped outside into the crunchy white blankets of snow that was lining the driveway of your house. Breathing slowly, you crouched down so you could pick up a small handful of ice and just watch it run through your fingers. It was a strangely familiar sensation yet you doubted you would ever get used to it.
"God I forgot how much I missed this…" You muttered softly.
"You never really get used to it I guess." Jack spoke up from next to you. His eyes were gazing out over the yard watching a lone snowflake being carried by the wind. "How you restrain yourself from smashing a window to get outside is beyond me."
You stood bac
Literature
Frostbite (Jack Frost x Reader)
Crisp white blanketed the landscape, the joints of winter's figurative fingers twitching smoothly in a come-hither motion. Magic in the form of the weather's alabaster coating beckoning you, your body enticed to feel the artic-styled, smooth air filling and refreshing your lungs.
The dull voice of the local weatherman joined you as you forced your arm through the sleeve of a jacket, ending as you began to make the loops to tie the stings of your boots.
"And folks, remember to bundle up, seem's ol' Jack Frost is nipping at everyone's toes today!" The man quirked his eyebrows foward and screwed his mouth to flash white teeth in an I-made-
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