Hey Guys.
I'd really appreciate Reviews. I see that I have plenty of follows and stuff-But no one's commented on my work. I like hearing what you guys have to say, and If you do, I'll let you borrow Jack o.o Incentive? So yeah. I don't know how good this is, but I'll give it my best c:
Two Years Later
The snow had been falling thickly for three days. Three days that she'd held the snow in her hand and gazed out her window, waiting.
Many times she'd convinced herself it was a dream. Many times she'd cried in protest—sure that the boy at the window had been real, that she hadn't imagined it. How could she, when she held the only evidence of his existence?
Through the two years of his absence, she'd been so angry. He'd promised to come back, but he hadn't. And in her mind, it was one of the harshest betrayals. This man.. Jack Frost, he had to keep his promise.
Sometimes, late at night, she'd reach under her pillow and take hold of the small snow ball. It sparkled in the moonlight, reminding her that it couldn't have been a dream. Closing her eyes, squeezing her hand around that small piece of evidence that he'd been there, she tried to remember.
But even with her pulse beating around the rock, her head aching from how tight her eyes were closed, sometimes even then she couldn't quite remember the shade of blue his eyes had been, or the way his voice had sounded when he told her his name. The memory would dance, just out of reach, and flutter above her head. She clung to it though, determined that he was real. That he'd saved her from a cold death out in the snow that night, two years ago.
But some nights, when he didn't come she'd been so angry at him for breaking his promise. The anger had swelled in her small body, until she'd thrown the rock into her hot bath one night, hoping it would melt. Soon after, she'd wailed in despair and dove into the water, scrabbling around on the tile searching for it.
Another time, She'd tossed it angrily into a pot of boiling water. Her hand now bore scars from the temperature, as she'd reached inside and pulled it out, terrified that it would melt.
But it never did.
Surely it was magic. It had to be, Ailis thought. Because this snow, it proved it hadn't been a dream. Hadn't been a childish delusion. It couldn't have been.
With a heavy sigh she leaned against the window, pressing her hand to the pane and staring out at the falling snow.
Something inside her kept telling her not to give up, that the mysterious Jack Frost would come back. That she would have proof. That tonight could be the night, and she'd feel silly for having not believed. But the agony of waiting and the lateness of the hour was beginning to affect her. Heaving another heavy sigh, she leaned her head against the cold glass and allowed her eyes to slip closed.
'He'll come.. He promised..'
Among the falling snow flakes, and the gleaming stars-it was easy for Jack to forget everything. So easy for him to fall into the bliss of the thrill that was flying. The heart stopping beauty of the world from the sky, was something he didn't think even 350 years could take away. Maybe not even 1000 years. He'd just have to wait and find out.
Spinning with the reassuring feeling of his staff against his skin, he gazed below him, peering down into a small snowy town in northern Maine. The sloping hills and dark green of the evergreens made a slight memory stir in his mind.
"Say, what's your name little one?"
"Ailis, what's yours?"
Realization made his icy eyes stretch open wide. He'd forgotten all about the little girl, and his promise to return.
A hot feeling of regret and anger at himself began to coil in his stomach, and without another thought-he plunged through the air, falling toward a small patch of trees where he remembered the little blonde girl tumbling from her window.
Tap, tap, tap. Jack hovered just outside the window, his fingers drumming against the glass, watching the sleeping girl.
She was distinctly bigger than he remembered, taller-and her hair was longer. The curls spiraled to her waist now, instead of stopping at her shoulders. Her face was thinner, not quite as childish as it had been two years ago. Her small rosebud lips were parted in an almost smile as she wandered in her dream land.
Tap, tap, tap.Her eyelashes fluttered as she slowly roused herself from her innocent slumber. Ailis'
eyes didn't want to open, and with a soft huff she began to fall back into sleep. But once again, Tap, tap, tap.She groaned and opened her eyes.
Only to come face to face with Jack Frost's impish grin on the other side of the glass.
