She has the same dream every night. The two of them dancing, smiling, laughing. Then the music slows, and he pulls her nearer. He gazes at her like she's the only thing in the world that matters; and, to his dream form, she is. His ice-blue eyes are enchanting, his pale lips enticing.
He slowly lifts her chin up and kisses her. In her mind she wonders, how can skin so cold have such a warm touch? But the thought quickly fades as the kiss deepens, and everything around them is covered in ice and snow. His name repeats over and over in her blissfully dizzy head:
Jack Frost
Every night he watches this dream. He smiles to himself as their miniature sand replicas twist and twirl in the air before embracing. It has been over fifty years since that spring day, when her dream was made a reality; but in her dream and in his heart, she is still the same bubbly, childish sixteen-year-old girl that shouldn't have believed in him…but did.
As the dream draws to a close, he pulls the covers up a little further over her sleeping form. He brushes her once dark brown hair back from her slender face. He places a gentle kiss on her forehead. He steals one last glance at her before sneaking out the window to continue his duty. Even now, she still makes his chest feel light as a snowflake.
