So, I have no idea what I was on when I wrote this. At first, I was torn against uploading this, because I really don't like it, but the Jackunzel archive needs some love because there's considerably less stories than before. So this is a ROTBTFD story- I hope you know what that means- basically just saying that there's Hiccup, and Merida, and Frozen characters so yeah. I used a picture by the amazing artist Punziella, who I follow on tumblr, and she's perfect in like every possible way so if you want to see what true talent is, look her up on tumblr. Plus! If this story is horrible, I blame my inspiration, which is such a beautiful song and I just has to write a one-shot based off of it. It's called, "The boy who could fly" by Pierce the Veil. Absolutely Jackunzel. At least for me.
The line of the song that inspired me, among others: "The boy on the blue moon dreams of sun."
It's cold. The dirt under his bare toes is cold. It's dark and cold and Jack Frost can't see anything past the dim light of the end of his cigarette, burning slowly and changing colors, a mix of orange and red that flicker with a tiny flame.
He exhales into the night sky, starts twinkling overhead, a ring of smoke stretching towards the pinpoints of light. He coughs, too, because he doesn't really like smoking. It just keeps his mind off things. For example, when he's smoking, he can pretend that the nicotine fogs his mind and he doesn't have to remember that the building he's leaning against is the house of his classmate, one who's a pompous jerk that's invited Jack over for a party- but he doesn't care about the party. He left it almost as soon as he arrived in favor of outside. He cares about the girl that he came here to see, but even she can't make the shitty night better at the moment, since it's been dampened by a text message received not too long ago, one that made his insides twist and clench painfully.
Simple as that, Jack's life keeps catching up to him, and he's trying to run, but it seems like he's running on a treadmill, never getting further than he ever started. By life catching up to him, he's referring to his meddling Uncle North being on his back, constantly, about his slipping grades and substance abuse.
Well, uncle dearest, what did you think would happen when your family died in a car crash only last year?
Jack scowls and puffs out a spiraling column of white smoke, that disintegrates into the night air, transparent and hazy, blurring his vision. He coughs again, and he takes the cigarette from his lips, blowing out more rings of translucent white.
"It's late, Jack."
Oh, there's the girl he came to the terrible party to see. She's swinging a white crocheted bag, wearing a strapless pink-and-white summer dress, and she's barefoot, just like him, because summer's started, despite there still being a few more weeks of junior year, and the night's cold enough to go with shoes, but it's obvious that neither of them want to wear those restricting articles of clothing. Anyway, she always liked to go barefoot any day of the year, though her protective mother wouldn't like that, and so she just went barefoot when she could get away with it, even though it was cold. He could tell she was cold, too. Her delicate shoulders shook, and her unblemished skin was dotted with raised goosebumps.
Rapunzel's her name. Corona's her last name. He's known her for about two years now- they met freshman year of high school, and she's probably the only reason he's still breathing. She always has been. It's just her smile, her laughter, her being. It keeps him going each morning when nothing else does.
He doesn't like to think it's love, but that's only because everything he loves blows up in his face. He likes to think that he's attracted to her, and hell, practically every male that's straight is. Rapunzel's the type of girl who's beautiful without trying, but she'd never be the type to use her beauty. A heart shaped face, slim build, freckled cheeks and button nose, not to mention luscious eyelashes that frame equally gorgeous vibrant green eyes, with long locks of golden hair that fall below her waist, that ripples like a river would.
There's that smile of hers again. It could light up a room, just with the way her lips stretch up and her eyes match her happy mouth. He wants to kiss her. He wants to hold her. He wants do do anything but ask her why her cheeks are blushing, though he's got a hunch that's it's got to do with the pompous jerk inside, aka Flynn Rider, but he doesn't want to think about that.
"I know it's late," is all he says, and he stubs out his cigarette and tosses it into the ground, grinding it into the dirt with his bare heel, even if the slight sting of heat should bother him. "You should've payed attention to time an hour ago, Punz." Punz is her nickname- has been for as long as he's known her. He's always careful, though, not to call her Blondie, because that's Flynn's thing, and if there's anything Jack hates, it's being compared to Flynn.
Because Flynn was an asshole.
Because the nickname was tacky.
Because he couldn't live up to the notorious Rider.
"Sorry, I lost track of time," Rapunzel says with a nervous little laugh, and there it is again, another reason why he can't get her out of his damn head, this time being her cute laughter. "Mom will freak."
"What she doesn't know can't hurt her," Jack smirks, and it's easy to fake feelings towards her, so easy when Rapunzel's so innocent and naive, though he's certain that he's becoming a bad influence. She's tried to get him to quit, several times actually, but Jack always refuses, though he's always certain not to do it much when she's around.
"She's probably still sleeping anyway," Rapunzel steps over the grass with bare toes, digging them into the cold dirt that Jack's been stepping in, and she reaches for his hand, in a way that makes them look like a couple when they're really best friends. They tell each other everything. Even when things turn from better to worse.
"Let's hope," Jack says, and he wraps his fingers around hers. Rapunzel's house- and his- are only walking distance from the pompous jerk's house, so they've walked the way there. Barefoot, just like always. It's something they do, something they've been doing every time they sneak out. Which is often, due to their isolation. Rapunzel's been locked up in her room, Jack's been invisible to most everyone.
Jack notices that Rapunzel's taking something out of her bag, and she uncaps it, and Jack can only tell what it is then: a bottle of beer, and he's surprised that she's even got her hands on it, before she passes it to Jack.
"Drink some." Their hands are still clasped, but Jack takes it with his free hand and chugs down a mouthful before he hands it back into Rapunzel's possession. She takes a swing of the bottle next, and the two pass it among themselves, sharing lukewarm alcohol as they trudge through the sidewalks.
"I didn't know you started drinking," Jack says, once their drink is finished and Rapunzel tucks the empty bottle into her seemingly childish bag.
"Not really. Just a few times," Rapunzel says. They're outside her house now, a modern two-story that's dark and decorative. If only houses could show the personalities of their owners- because Rapunzel's mother, Gothel, was a terror. So sure that Jack was the worst thing that'd ever happened to Rapunzel, Gothel tried to keep them apart all the time. Rapunzel never listened to her, of course. Jack even less.
Rapunzel swings her bag over her shoulder confidently, and sets her foot on the windowsill that's right underneath her bedroom window, where she's been sneaking out for months.
"Bye," she says, and she's blushing a cute shade of pink. Jack turns to leave, but their hands are still clenched together, and maybe he's wasted or high but he acts completely on impulse when he pulls Rapunzel into his arms and kisses her.
She makes a small, surprised squeak in the back of her throat on the first contact of their mouths, and Jack's fingers are digging into her shoulders, but he's pressing his lips to hers in a desperate manner, and it's not until she relaxes in his touch and kisses him back that he's relieved, never knowing how much he was worried that she'd reject him until she didn't.
She tastes like beer and something sweet, like vanilla, and if he were in her shoes, he's sure that he'd taste smoke and beer. It wasn't pleasant when he thought of it like that, but it just felt right, like something he couldn't explain. With her, it felt like all the weight on his shoulders disappeared. Like he was weightless and carefree and that a wind could blow him away.
Like he could fly.
Eventually her fingers curl into his sweatshirt, and his hands move to cradle her head, and Rapunzel's letting him explore her mouth willingly, because she's rooted to the spot, and so is he, and they both just try and pretend that they're in a state where they won't remember the next day, but of course, they're both lying to themselves.
Jack finally pull away, and his breath lingers, mixing with the exhales of her breath, and Rapunzel's blushing again.
"Bye," Jack says.
That's love.
There was plenty of bad decisions that night.
First one: Taking a trip to California in a cramped van, six people, in the first place to celebrate their friend Merida's twenty-first birthday.
Second one: Letting their friend Hiccup babysit Merida, because of the group, Hiccup probably had no idea what to do with a drunk Scottish girl.
Third one: Letting another friend of theirs, Anna, run wild. At all. Anyone who knew the girl knew that she could not go unsupervised.
Fourth one: Loosing their last friend, Elsa, on the dance floor. While she was more responsible than her younger sister- (oh, yeah, she and Anna were sisters) , Elsa had a tendency to ignore other people when she saw fit.
Fifth one: Jack and Rapunzel arguing in the car, which lead them to a hasty breakup.
Hasty breakup, when they'd been together for about four years now. When did they become an item? Junior year, high school. Once Flynn was out of the picture due to his being a senior and graduating, that was. Pompous jerk. That's still how Jack viewed him as.
A lot's changed since high school. Jack quit smoking, because he never really liked it anyway, and he drinks in moderation. Rapunzel does, too. She only drinks when he does, though, but he wouldn't be surprised if she's at the bar knocking a few back.
Why did they fight, anyway? It might've been due to Rapunzel's mother, who still contacted Rapunzel regularly, though Rapunzel was a grown woman who did not need babysitting. Or Jack's stupid jealously. Maybe it was the pompous jerk...Rapunzel had recently got in touch with him again.
Jack's hands are stuck in his hoodie pockets, brooding in a dark corner, and flashing strobe lights beckon him to a glittering dance floor, where sweaty bodies dance to the latest hits of the summer, most people young college students experiencing freedom.
He's in college, too. So is Rapunzel. So are all of them. Well, except Anna, but that's because she's eighteen and just graduated from high school. She just tagged along because she and Elsa barely became friends again after a weird falling-out that involved snowmen and rocks and some douche. That was a long story he heard on the ride to Cali. His thoughts are running a mile a minute, and eventually, the lights start to blur. Dance. Rapunzel. Anna. Snowmen. Vodka. Bartender. Elsa. Rapunzel.
Speaking of Rapunzel, there's his ex-girlfriend right then, sitting at the bar. He doesn't like to think of her as his ex-girlfriend, having been officially over for about two hours now. The feeling he always gets has been replaced with that heavy, dragging one again, though the load's been slackened over the years, due to his staying clean. He can catch sight of her golden hair, spilling over her shoulders, showing off the light purple dress that hugs her curves like a dream, matched with golden shoes that make her legs look longer and utterly touchable.
He needs to get laid.
Rapunzel was a virgin, and she had made it clear that she was staying abstinent until marriage. Jack said he'd do the same, of course, but he never expected to marry Rapunzel. If he did, he was sure he'd be happy the rest of his life, but they were young. Life hadn't tortured them enough yet, though Jack could argue that his family dying was torture enough, while Rapunzel could probably insist that her mother was the true definition of torture. Young and naive and stupid and much more, and that's why Jack wants to apologize. He needed her in his life, more than he'd ever needed anyone, and that was enough to make him reckless.
Jack sits on the bar stool next to her, and waits for her to notice him, but she's too busy laughing at something a guy on her left is telling her. That possessive flame burns up in his chest again, even more so when the guy buys Rapunzel a drink and she lets him. Jack reaches for her hand, and when he clamps his fingers onto hers, Rapunzel finally turns.
"Jack," she says. Her eyes are wide, but they're glazed over, and her breath smells of spirits. This is too familiar, all too familiar.
"Rapunzel," he says back.
"Hey, I didn't know you had a boyfriend-" nameless dude at the bar says, and Jack flips him off, before he clutches Rapunzel's hand closer to himself.
"I don't want us to fight," he admits, "I'm sorry." Rapunzel opens her mouth like she wants to say something, but instead her eyes narrow in worry.
"I have to throw up."
Maybe this is love. She's running to the bathroom, and Jack's following her, knowing she's drunk as hell and tossing her cookies in a toilet bowl, but he actually wants to stay around with her.
The feeling's still there, the airy one that Rapunzel makes him feel. Even when he pauses by the bathroom door, despite it being marked for girls, and watches as she hurls in a manner that should be disgusting, but to him, it just makes him want to stay and help her.
So he pushes her hair away from her, bunches it into a ponytail over her back, and waits until she's done.
That's love.
The light to the room is too harsh, to bright, too fluorescent. It's quiet save for the tattoo artist's heavy breathing and a radio playing soft rock music, and Jack watches, watches as Rapunzel sits still and lets the needle imprint her perfect skin.
He's already has his, and hers is matching. On his back- his shirt is still off, just so that Rapunzel can see it and get one in the same position- is a moon, with blue ink, that is about three inches long, not big, but not small.
When Rapunzel's is done, and the artist wipes off her bare back, only decent by a pale pink bra, Jack can catch sight of Rapunzel's new tattoo.
It's golden, and takes the shape of a sun. Her shy green eyes meet his blue ones, and she's blushing, but Jack knows that they both want these, these memories of California, since they leave tomorrow.
He pulls her in and kisses her, and Rapunzel laughs against his lips before encircling his waist with her arms.
The boy on the blue moon dreams of sun.
Then there's this. Being with Rapunzel made him better. He liked to think so, anyway. Still feeling like he could fly, even if he couldn't. In another life, though, he likes to think that he'd be a type of Superman, a hero who'd save a girl like Rapunzel, a girl who gave him a reason to fly.
Years ago, he said Rapunzel was the reason he was still alive, and that stands true even when they're twenty-one and stupidly in love.
He admits it. He loves her. Maybe he has, and just hasn't spoken it out loud. He told her her loved her last night on the beach, when they left the motel for a midnight stroll.
He remembers the way her eyes lit up, he remembers the way she jumped into his arms, legs encircling his waist, and the way she kissed him, kissed him like she hasn't kissed him in a while. He remembers her running his fingers through her hair, and him thinking that he'd like to do the same, except his hands cupped her backside and held her upright, even when her thighs squeezed him like a vice. It was adorable, really.
She'd agreed to the tattoos at that moment. Even though it would hurt. Even though she'd been so adamant against them. Even though Rapunzel had sworn that tattoos were the devil and meant nothing to a relationship.
That's love.
He was twenty-six and he hadn't seen her in a year.
Rapunzel had gotten married. The man was respectable, well off, and had at least ten years on her. Rapunzel had told Jack that she couldn't wait for him anymore. That she wanted to settle down. That her career as an fashion designer couldn't wait, and that going all over the world with him wasn't an option.
She had stayed in Burgess, their hometown, and Jack had traveled to Paris.
He'd enjoyed it there, with the sights and the tourists, and he'd had the trip financed by his uncle North, as a present for giving up drinking. He had asked Rapunzel to come with him. North had agreeably asked her if she'd accompany his nephew, too. Rapunzel had refused.
And know she was married.
Hiccup was having an engagement party- lo and behold, he'd gotten engaged to Merida. They were both Jack's friends, so he was agreeable to it, but it didn't stop him from poking jokes at the two. Hiccup and Merida were holding the party at some banquet hall that looks more like a castle, which was a nice touch, Jack had to admit, with the quartet playing, an ice sculpture of a dragon (he suspected that was Hiccup's doing, as the man was an avid fan of dragons) and the caterers walking around with delicacies that only Merida, due to growing up in nobility, could have ordered.
Hiccup had to top this with a pretty damn good wedding.
Then, of course, she walked in on the arm of another man. Jack had been sharing a drink (non-alcoholic, he'd given that up) with Anna, who only recently turned twenty-three and gotten married all in one, when he caught sight of Rapunzel.
She wears a white halter dress dotted with bunches of red and pink flowers that fell to her knees, her golden hair pulled up into a high ponytail, with matching white pumps, smiling at something that man says, batting her thick eyelashes when he kisses her cheek.
Jack grips his cup tightly, too tightly, and Anna gives his shoulder a sympathetic pat. Jack frowns at her. Anna makes excuses about meeting up with her husband, and Jack asks her not to leave, but of course she does, and he's left alone.
Rapunzel locks eyes with him across the room. Jack doesn't look away, but she doesn't either. Their eye contact is only broken when Rapunzel's husband walks in front of her, and Rapunzel reluctantly follows, shooting one last glance towards Jack.
That's love.
"I'm married," Rapunzel croaks out, but she whines, a pleading whimper when Jack moves his lips to a sensitive spot underneath her ear.
"Then tell me to stop," Jack whispers against her skin, and he sucks. Rapunzel's rational thoughts fly away, and all she thinks is how good it feels, how his lips are cold and she doesn't know how, not when she feels like she's on fire and her flesh is probably red, red with blushing and overheated.
She doesn't tell him to stop. She doesn't know how she ever wanted him to. Her mind registers, just once as she runs her fingers through his white hair, that her husband in back at the engagement party. She should feel dirty. She should feel wrong, she should feel disgusted.
But she's enjoying the sensations as Jack nips at her neck, and the way he cages her to the wall, and she's not satisfied just linking her fingers in his locks. She needs him to kiss her again, to feel what she felt so many summers ago, and she squeaks when one of his bites are more savage, and her mind runs blank again when he soothes the mark with his tongue. It's sinfully wonderful, and she shouldn't, she shouldn't-
Rapunzel grabs his face in her hands and pushes his lips against hers, and she relaxes. It's rough and clumsy and full of lust but the both of them weren't always skilled in the act anyway.
Jack toys with the neckline of her dress, and Rapunzel is pulling at the blue necktie he wears, and they're both aware of what they're doing, though both want to imagine it's due to alcohol consumption, though Jack had none of it and Rapunzel probably only took a sip or two of champagne to be polite.
It's a one time thing, Rapunzel thinks. It'll never happen again. Jack pulls the material down one shoulder, intricate seams ripping, and Rapunzel's fingers toss his tie to the side and shakily unbutton his shirt, fingers clumsy in the heat of the moment.
Jack kisses her again, hard, and his hands slip over her shoulders and dip to her bra, his fingers finding the clasp, and Rapunzel lets him undo it, breathing harshly against his mouth.
She can feel the way it's affecting him, just as much as it affects her, and his shirt is completely undone by the time she slides it off of his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor of the corridor they're in. He's naked from the waist up and positively beautiful. Rapunzel's bra slides down her dress, but she's still modestly covered, though Jack seems to want to change that by the way he lowers his mouth to her collarbone and kisses, moving over her shoulder, showering her exposed skin with caresses of his lips.
She tosses her head back against the wall, eyes closing shut, and she moans, a dulcet sound that only eggs Jack on, and he continues, this time grazing his teeth over her flesh, and her breathing gets more and more ragged.
And then, the moment is shattered. "Rapunzel, love? Where are you?"
Rapunzel's eyes snap open, and she shoves Jack away from her, not that her husband has noticed, because he travels down another hallway, not the one that she and Jack have been in.
"I'm married," Rapunzel says, more to herself than Jack, but it's harsh and she shakes her head. "I'm married."
"You should have told me to stop," Jack says, but there's no anger in it. He's just staring at her, staring and he reaches down to pick up his discarded shirt.
Rapunzel allows her eyes to flitter over his exposed chest. It's chiseled, and his muscles are toned, though not bulky, and she has to admit that he only seemed to grow more attractive as the years went on.
"I'm sorry," Rapunzel blinks, and she backs away, spying her white bra not far away. She picks it up quickly, intent on finding the nearest bathroom and getting far away from this experience.
"He doesn't deserve you," Jack tells her, when she's about to make a run for it, and that stops her heels from moving.
Something angers her about the statement. Her husband was a perfectly loving man, one that worked and provided for her, and that was all she really wanted. More could be said for him then could be said for Jack, whom she'd wanted to marry. She'd wanted to marry him when he wanted to fly.
"And you deserve me?" Rapunzel whirls around to face him again, and she wills that she won't cry, but her voice is starting to crack. "He loves me."
"I don't deserve you," Jack says, unfazed, though his eyes soften at her sadness. "I'll never deserve you. But I still love you."
Rapunzel backs up, almost tripping over the red carpeted floor, and she doesn't run until she's out of his sight, and finds the nearest ladies' room and closes it, thankful that it's unoccupied.
The tears come then, sliding down her face, and Rapunzel grips the edge of the water basin and sobs, past caring about the makeup she'd carefully applied that was now ruined.
Jack loved her.
She didn't want to dwell on that any longer. She'd loved him, too, once. She didn't like to think that she still did. Her marriage...She was married, for Christ's sake. She shouldn't even be thinking about him.
Then Rapunzel panics. God... she'd let him get into more than her thoughts that night. Her face burned, just to think of all she'd done that was wrong, and she wanted to die.
Jack Frost had no right to invade her life anymore, and she was going to keep it that way.
While maintaining her marriage.
...If she kept telling herself it, maybe it would come true.
That's love.
He's twenty-eight now, and he's at a funeral. He stands in the back next to Elsa, who had left her movie tour unexpectedly just to attend a funeral for a man she never knew.
She's crying, too. Not over the man- Jack doesn't like to think of his name. Elsa's crying because Rapunzel is crying. She should cry, too. Both of them, because crying is okay. Jack just swallows, and looks away, and wishes that Rapunzel would look happy, but she doesn't.
Those green eyes of hers that he loved- correction, loves- are full of tears and she's rubbing at them, pushing aside a netted black veil that covers her face as the priest talks.
Hiccup's face is grim, and even Merida's quiet for once, though it might've been due to the sleeping one-year-old she cradled in her arms, their son, and Jack's godson. Jack's eyes flicker around, landing on Anna and Kristoff. Kristoff is the name of Anna's husband- the one she married two years ago. She's expecting, her stomach swollen under her black dress, and Kristoff's hand rests there.
They're not in high school anymore. This is real life.
Besides all of them, who are there only for Rapunzel, there's no one else. Rapunzel's husband had no family, no friends, probably nothing except for his young wife and a successful company.
Jack wishes that she wouldn't be upset, because he hates to see her cry, but he knows that he can't stay around her anymore. It hurts him too much, it always hurt him to see her with that man, but what hurt him even more was seeing the way she suffered.
Rapunzel's husband had died young, at forty, due to a heart attack, and by mistake, she'd called him first rather than Merida, like she'd intended. Jack had answered and heard her sob, and shudder, and say that he'd died and she felt so alone.
He'd directed her call to Merida because he felt like he had no business listening to her talk about her husband.
"We honor a great man, and loving husband," the priest says soberly, and he places his hand on the casket. "May he bask in eternal life with the Father."
Rapunzel's sobs sound strangled, and she's shaking her head, and Elsa moves from Jack's side to envelop the other woman in a hug, letting Rapunzel bury her neck in her shoulder and let her tears flow.
Merida makes a small sound, and Hiccup places an arm around his wife, pushing red curls away from her face to let her know that he was there for her.
Jack had to admire them, to follow love even through high school. He can imagine their relationship wasn't grand, either, with Merida's temper and Hiccup's sarcasm, but they made it work.
He wishes that he could say the same for him and Rapunzel.
He wants to be the one comforting her, he wants to be the one to hold her, he wants to be the one that helps her get over the disaster her life's turning out to be.
That's love.
"Jack." Rapunzel's tone is clipped and forced, and she fakes a small smile before it falters. "I haven't seen you since-" She exhales sharply and stops there.
Right. Her husband's funeral, which was a year ago.
"Right," Jack mutters. "Since then."
The two of them were at Elsa's latest movie premiere, a huge blockbuster hit about queens or whatever the hell Elsa would act as.
They're sitting in the theater, with VIP passes, at the front, where all the action happens.
Jack would've liked this had he been alone, or with friends, but not with the woman he had been in love with since he was seventeen.
"It's a shame Hiccup and Merida couldn't come," Rapunzel says, to break the silence. "Merida said that Jamie was upset about being left with a sitter."
"It's just like Jamie," Jack thinks of his godson, a little boy with a knack for trouble. "Reminds me of myself."
Rapunzel laughs, just once, and it's a beautiful sound. It's been awhile since he'd heard that laughter, and a smile settles onto his face.
"Have you seen the trailer for Elsa's movie?" Rapunzel asks. "It sounded really great. I can't wait to see her in it."
"If I said no, does that make me a bad friend?" Jack wonders out loud, but he secretly likes it when Rapunzel swats at his arm, just a tiny swat, like she used to when they were younger.
Rapunzel's right, of course, like she always is. The movie was great. It also ended at around midnight and Rapunzel was struggling just to keep her eyes open at the end.
"Elsa's signing for fans outside," Jack says, turning to Rapunzel. "We're probably better off just going to the hotel on our own-" He stops when he notices that her hair is fanned over her face, her chest rising in peaceful breathing.
He smiles, and he brushes the hair away from her face. "Rapunzel," he whispers, and she stirs.
"Hmm?" she mumbles, and she looks up at Jack, blushing pink when she noticed how close he was, and she sat up instantly. "Oh, I-"
"Come on," Jack offers her his hand. Rapunzel looks at it, then back at him.
"Jack, I don't-"
"Don't argue," Jack helps her off her seat. "We've always been best friends, Punz. Even when we're getting close to thirty. It won't change anything between us if you don't want it to."
"Okay," Rapunzel says, hoarsely. "Jack- I'm sorry."
"What are you sorry about?" Jack asks, and Rapunzel shakes her head.
"Everything. Ignoring you, and after-" Rapunzel's voice is shaky, and Jack knows that she's thinking of her deceased husband. "After- that, I wanted to tell you, I mean, I always have-"
"It's okay," Jack says. "You loved him, it's okay."
"N-no, I don't think I did," Rapunzel says, quietly, and her tears are starting again. "I tried to. He loved me, and I thought I did, but-"
"I see," Jack nodded, and he wiped a tear away from Rapunzel's face carefully. "You were still hung up on my sexy body, huh?"
Rapunzel laughs, full laughter this time, and Jack allows himself a chuckle or two while she moves her own fingers to rub at her eyes. He didn't even know if that statement would have swung with her, now that she was a mature woman and no longer the giggly teenager he had dated. "I still love you," she says, and her voice is shaky. "I still have the tattoo. I wanted to get rid of it, I did, but I couldn't."
"I still have mine, too," Jack says softly, his foolish behavior eradicated when Rapunzel smiles up at him nervously.
"Then...?" Her voice is hopeful. Her green eyes shine with anticipation, and Jack smiles down at her, because this is when she's the most beautiful. Eve when she's older, she'll still have that spark and fun-loving personality that makes her Rapunzel. He loves it. He loves her.
"I never stopped loving you," Jack says. "I couldn't, either."
Rapunzel lifts herself up on her tiptoes and kisses him, a sweet and perfect kiss, one that he hadn't experienced in years. The feeling was back. That lightweight, ballooning, airy one that Jack had missed. He felt like he could fly, he felt like he was invincible, and he kisses Rapunzel once more, never wanting that feeling to end.
"I missed you," Rapunzel breathes out when they pull apart, and she strokes his jaw.
"I missed you," Jack replies hoarsely, and he cradles her neck with one hand and moves forward so that their foreheads press and their noses knock. "I don't want to lose you again. Promise you'll stay with me. Forever. Or until you get tired of me."
Rapunzel giggles, a carefree sound. "Is this your idea of a marriage proposal?"
Jack's mouth lifts into a smirk. "I'll try and make the real one better, Punz."
Rapunzel's fingers intertwine with Jack's as they prepare to leave, clasped hands swinging like they did on a distant summer night twelve years ago.
That's love.