Polar Winter (FrostxReader)

  INTRODUCTION
 
   It seemed like so long ago now...so far from the present that it is almost ridiculous to believe that a mere month ago you were a regular student, living a rather boring and stressful life as any student would. To try and ignore the painful black sand that seemed to keep you immobile, your mind wandered back to those days...

  You were a good student, working hard in your classes and creating worlds in one of your strongest subjects: art. This year, you had a project that involved creating something fantastical and alluring, so you chose to personify one of your favorite legends of all time: Jack Frost. You decided to paint him at about your age of 17, with ice blue eyes and a shock of white hair. For a twist, you painted a blue hoodie that was sparkling with frozen frost. You placed him in a simple, portrait-like pose, but gave it high contrasting qualities that made him seem almost real... The painting turned out far better than you expected, and honestly, the painting was quite attractive to your (e/c) orbs.
   It was with this very project with which you walked home, quite proudly, when the world as you knew it...changed forever...

   It was a cold winter day, and you were walking home from school, enjoying the snow that was softly falling on the ground and the hint of Christmas in the air. People were dressed in warm clothes, and the brilliant colors of jackets and scarves popped out of the snow like drops of paint on a blank canvas. You smiled, holding your painting close to you to keep it from getting wet as you trudged along. Even though you had placed your Jack Frost painting in a large bag to keep it covered, you were still very overprotective of how fantastic it turned out.

   "(Name)!"
 
   A light, airy voice calls out to you, and you turn, your (h/c) hair flicking behind you. A grin spreads on your face when your eyes alight upon a young, brown-haired boy around the age of 11. He smiles toothily and nearly pummels you to the ground in his boisterous hug.
   
   "Whoa there, Jamie!" you exclaim, holding your painting above your head. "Slow down! Good to see you too."
   
   You laugh, giving your little buddy a one armed squeeze. Jamie Bennett was one of your favorite little friends in Burgess. You had met him when you babysat him and his little sister about three years ago, and now Jamie just loves being with you. He's like your grounding in childhood, and lately he'd been going on and on about Jack Frost. It was fun playing along and remembering how carefree childhood used to be, so you never fought Jamie's infectious laughter and belief.
   
   "Watcha got?" Jaime asked, reaching up, his boyish hands flailing towards the sky. "I wanna see your painting!"
   
   You chuckle, gently nudging Jamie away, but still holding the painting up high. "Don't worry! I was planning on showing you this anyway!"
   
   A shy smile spreads on your face as you lower the painting down and open the portfolio to pull it out of its safe container. "Do you know how you've been talking a lot about Jack Frost lately?"
   
   Jamie nodded, eyes wide. "D-Did you paint...?"    
   
   Grinning, you flipped your painting around for Jamie to see. "I painted Jack for a project!"
   
   Jamie laughed aloud, his eyes growing round as saucers. "Wow! That looks just like him. Are you sure you haven't seen Jack bef--"
       
   Suddenly, the young boy's eyes traveled to a spot just above your left shoulder. He suddenly seemed very excited, and a cold breath of wind blew past, whipping your (h/c) hair around your face.
   
   "Jack, that isn't nice! Look, she painted a picture of you!"
     
   You glanced down at Jamie, confused. "Who are you talking to?"
   
   Warily, you sneak a peek over your shoulder, but no one is there. Raising your eyebrow, you turn back to Jamie, who appears to be looking above you now. "Jack wants to see the picture too!"
   "Uh... okay...where is he?" you asked, looking around.
 
   Suddenly, the painting is whipped out of your hands from a huge gust of wind that seemed to rise from nothing. It went spiraling away, flashes of Jack Frost's face appear now and then as it twisted and turned in the unnatural wind.
   
   "What the--! Jamie, help me get it back!"
   
   Jamie looks horrified, his brown eyes wide. "Jack, no, don't do that!"
   
   Not really caring what Jamie's game about this 'Jack' person is, you go galloping after your painting that you spent months on perfecting. Its flies up and seems to have a mind of its own, flying over people and zipping around signs on the street. You find it odd how long it stays in the air, but you don't think about it twice because you have to get it back.
   
   Jamie soon falls behind, his shorter legs unable to carry him as you sprint through Burgess, into some woods, and all the way to a lake that you sometimes visited. It was here your painting finally stopped flying and fluttered to the ground. You collapsed in the snow on your knees, out of breath; then you picked up your painting with trembling fingers, afraid of what you might find when you turned it over. Thankfully, no smudges or even wet marks from the snow had made it onto your prized picture, and you let out a shaky breath, allowing it to condense in the air in a puff of mist. That was certainly eventful....
   
   "You did a good job."
   
   The voice made you jump, and your head whipped up, eyes searching the clearing. To the left and right of you was just trees covered in snow. The lake was frozen and in front of you, so you craned your head around. Still no one.
   
   "Jamie, is that you?" you ask, unsure. Unsure because....well, Jaimie's voice was definitely not that deep.
   
   A flutter of snow goes past your nose, and the cold breeze makes you shiver. "No...it isn't but..."
   
   Suddenly, something lands in front of you with thump, and you jump back, heart racing. Your eyes slowly make its way up the--the person-- Two bare, almost white feet, leading up to a tattered pair of brown pants. Next your eyes travel to a blue hoodie that was coated in frost around the bottom, pockets, arms, and neck, then to a head that was cocked the side with a shock of white hair and piercing blue eyes...
   
   You scream so loud that the trees seem to shake off some of the snow.
   
   "J-Jack Frost?!"

TBC