Drip, drop. Drip, drop.

This is what Jamie thought of each time he looked into the other boy's orbs. Frost, too, and most of all, a pond that shines blue because of its underwater essence. For some unexplainable reason, they were glorious to him. When you stared intently enough to notice the small speckles of silver adorning his irises, it seemed as if you could simply float into them. It felt magical, all of it; everything when it came to Jack felt magical, and that was why Jamie felt compelled to stay by his side. Not out of pity, for he knew of the winter spirit's losses, but out of the fraction of his heart that truly cared.

Inside his mind, Jamie was aware of the spell he was being put under. The good kind of spell, though, and there are some who might even consider saying it was wonderful. The force binding him to Jack was merely peaceful and not because of evil stalking him, so he embraced it fully and went about his day like he did before he met the Guardians. He sort of felt like the connection between him and Jack Frost wasn't able to be defined, for there were no words to describe the emotions he felt while he stood by the boy, holding his hand.

"Stay by me," his companion would whisper gently. His ear cavern would vibrate, making a cold chill crawl down his spine.

Those words meant a lot to Jamie. He heard them whenever Jack had the chance to utter them to him. But not only did they hold a special meaning, they also held a beautiful array of feelings that were laced behind the words.

"I won't ever leave," Jamie would say back, equally as soft.

The corners of lips would curve, and then time would fast forward slowly as they brushed fingertips and noses.

The balcony that they visited frequently was of a secluded mansion, located in the midst of grassy fields and dandelions, and nothing other than it made the pair feel more exhilarated. Jack would communicate with the wind, and it would wrap itself around them, carrying both him and Jamie in the breeze. Their bodies would hover high in the air, and once the boy and the winter spirit were done playing, the wind flew them back to where they were before, echoing a farewell.

Pecks of lips would be given, and giggles whilst kissing were common. Pretty pink lips got bruised red, stained from passion and lust, and eyelashes shed, landing on soft cheeks, as a sign of the months passing endlessly. Hands clasped, the silent comforting them, because they knew it meant that they both never wanted to break free from the binding spell.

And one night when Jack slipped himself through Jamie's window, he felt a small tug. The tug of something peculiar. The bond they shared was strengthening, their hearts growing together like produce grew on the same vines, connected. No, it did not frighten them. Rather, it was a satisfying thing, grasping onto someone and never being able to pull away. Scariness did not come along with elation.

"Hold me tight," a boy in love whimpered into the shoulders of his winter spirit. Salt filled tears cascaded down his cheeks in raw emotion.

"Never will I let you go."

...

I wrote this on my phone because I was bored and my family lost internet connection. Here, though, it's a romantic treat for all of you. xxx